#aside from actively making content for and about it lol

[noodles-and-tea]

i’ve just finished reading Saving Sherlock Holmes, do you have any teen johnlock art?

Sure :)

[pedroscurls]

Hii love. Can you please do something about Harry or Joel. He has some type of insecurity and it gets worse one night when you are out at an activity or party maybe. You looked beautiful and lots of guys kept talking to you and trying to make a move.

So after you finally realize what is wrong with Harry/Joel, you make sure he feels loved and understands you only have eyes for him.

Something like that, thank you!

no one else comes close (one-shot)

pairing: harry castillo x fem!reader content warning(s): spoilers, so please beware!!!, harry POV, harry's super insecure, established relationship, no physical descriptions of reader (we're all beautiful here!!!), no use of y/n. word count: 1.9k a/n: shout out to you, anon for this incredibly sweet request! i don't usually take requests, but i loved this idea so much and i've been obsessed with harry that i couldn't not write it. hope you enjoy this and ty for sending this in <3 (btw this isn't proofread lol, i wrote this in like 2 hrs bc it's just such a good idea! so if there are errors, sorry in advanced!)

Harry was never a jealous man—at least not until he was in a relationship with you. It was ridiculous really because you had never given him the reason to feel this way. Whenever you both went out, he had gotten used to the lingering glances that would come your way. You were always so polite, so kind to everyone you met. 

But tonight, he wasn’t sure why the scars on his legs were making him insecure. It was one of the first things he told you—he didn’t want any secrets between either of you. You had looked at him with such a sad look on your face that Harry wasn’t sure if you were pitying him or embarrassed for him. It had taken him by surprise when you told him that you were sorry he felt that way, that he felt so strongly about increasing his height that he had to endure all that pain. 

Harry knew he loved you at that moment. You had always been different from the women he dated, but you never did care about his money or any of the materialistic things he had to offer you. You had been hurt in the past and the only thing you asked of him was to be completely and truthfully honest with you—about anything, about everything. 

Even now, as the men at the bar are casting glances in your direction, Harry couldn’t help but curl his hands into fists against the counter of the bar. It shouldn’t bother him, especially since there’s a pretty decent-sized engagement ring sitting on your finger. He tried to smile at what you and his brother were saying, but he couldn’t help but continue to look around the room. 

He had to wonder if he hadn’t been the height he was at now, would you even be interested in him? Would you have even gone on a first date with him? Said yes to marry him? Harry knew the answer to all of the questions that nagged at him—yes. 

Yes—you would still have been interested in him, would still have gone on that first date with him, and you certainly would have said yes to marry him. Harry knew that you didn’t care about looks, about height—you loved him for him. The good. The bad. The ugly. You accepted him entirely, even embraced parts of him that he tried so hard to push aside because it just never worked in the past. With you, Harry felt like himself. 

Harry heard you whisper into his ear that you were going on the dance floor with Charlotte—his sister-in-law. He didn’t have time to object, to instead tell you that he wanted to go home. You were already halfway to the dance floor, body swaying expertly to the beat of the music. He watched you vigilantly, keeping a careful eye on you. Even from afar, you made sure to glance in his direction and smile at him—a smile so big that it met your eyes and Harry, for a brief moment, forgot the lingering insecurity and jealousy that he felt all night. 

Harry winked at you and then decided to look away. You were going home with him, so he had no reason to be jealous. His brother clasped him on his shoulder and they ordered another round of drinks, casually talking about work. It hadn’t been five minutes before Harry felt the urge to look at you again. He looked over his shoulder casually, caught a glimpse of your smile before he turned back around. Slowly, he felt more comfortable—the jealousy and insecurity now an afterthought. 

Leg lengthening surgery—as painful as it was—had been the best decision of his life. Harry felt more respected, more valuable. No one else needed to know that he had gone through great lengths just to add six inches to his height. It bothered him though, how other men who were naturally six feet and above would just take it for granted. He tried not to think so materialistically, especially since you had told him that you never had an issue with dating someone under six feet, but there were moments where he couldn’t help it. He had grown up around that kind of thinking—the way you presented yourself mattered. 

“Oh shit,” he heard his brother whisper under his breath, pulling Harry out of his thoughts. 

Harry’s brows furrowed in confusion until he followed his brother’s gaze to the dance floor. A man was trying to dance with you and there was a look of discomfort in your features that he noticed immediately. Through your discomfort, Harry noticed how you had gently taken a step back from the other man—to distance your body with his. He wasn’t sure what you were telling him, but from the look of disappointment on the other man’s face, Harry had an idea.

“She can handle herself,” Harry replied to his brother, though he hoped that saying it out loud would convince himself that he didn’t need to intervene. 

Harry met your eyes and he gave you a single nod, which you returned instantly. You were ready to go home and Harry was more than willing to leave. As you were walking back to the bar though, several men tried to come up to you and strike a conversation. You forced a smile and politely declined, oblivious to their lingering eyes on your body. Harry’s jaw tightened and he downed his drink in one gulp before excusing himself to meet you halfway. 

“Yeah, think it’s time to go,” he heard his brother say from behind him. 

Harry didn’t bother to respond. His main focus was to get to you. Once at an arm’s distance, Harry reached out for you and took your hand, immediately pulling you into his chest. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, forehead leaning down to rest against your own. To you, Harry was being sweet, but to him—he was telling every man in this bar that you were off-limits. 

“Can we go home?” he asked quietly, hand coming up to rest on your cheek. 

“Yeah, let’s go home.” 

Back at Harry’s penthouse, he had already changed into a black t-shirt and sleep pants. He was in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water as his mind drifted again. Tonight had given him a glimpse of a life that he didn’t want—a life without you. You could have been with any other guy in that bar, could have said yes to someone else other than him and again, he wondered if you would have even said yes if he was at his actual height of 5’6. 

Harry didn’t hear you come into the kitchen, but he felt your soft touch on his shoulder. He cleared his throat quietly and turned around to face you—his insecurity written all over his face as his deep brown eyes softened at the sight of you. 

“Hey,” you whispered, hands coming up to rest on his chest. “You okay?” 

Harry nodded, kissed your cheek, and then pulled away. “Just tired. Ready for bed?” 

You furrowed a brow. Harry knew better than to lie to you. “Yeah, I am,” you answered. “But something’s wrong. I can tell.” 

Harry shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong, baby,” he lied once more. 

You sighed and moved to sit on one of the stools at the counter, arms crossed over your chest. Harry bit the inside of his cheek nervously and rested his forearms against the counter as he leaned against it, staring into your eyes. 

“If I wasn’t six feet tall, would you still be with me? Would you have even said yes when I asked you out on a date?” Harry blurted out.

“What?”

“If you met me and noticed that I was actually 5’6, would that have made a difference? Would we even be here?” He repeated.

You reached out for his hand and leaned forward to press your lips against the back of it. You never looked away, just held his gaze. “Yes, we would be right here where we’re meant to be even if you were 5’6,” you answered. “Your height isn’t the reason why I said yes. You know this.”

“I know… I just—” Harry sighed. “A lot of men like to stare at you. No matter where we are—bar, restaurant, even at a fucking family party. And tonight, it just got to me. All these men were just gawking at you,” he finally looked away—embarrassed that he was even feeling this way. “And then some even had the audacity to ask you to dance or even for your number despite the engagement ring you’re wearing.”

“Harry,” you whispered, climbing off the stool to stand next to him. You gently released his hand, only to have him turn his body to face you. You reached up and cupped his cheek—his eyes filled with so much sadness. “I chose you because you make me laugh, make me smile… We can talk literally about anything and nothing at the same time. My favorite place to be is in your arms. You’re my best friend, six feet or not. Rich or poor. You’re the only one I have eyes for,” you continued. “I chose you before. I’m choosing you now. And I will continue to choose you for the rest of my life.”

Harry’s eyes softened instantly, glistening with tears that threatened to spill over. He moved a hand to your hip, gripping it tightly under his grasp as he pulled you flush against him. “I’m just in my head and—”

“Stop,” you interrupted. “You have every right to feel the way that you do. Your feelings are valid, baby. But I’m here to tell you that if you need a reminder, I’m more than happy to tell you just how much I love you—how you’re the only man for me. No one else comes close, Harry.” 

Harry nodded and moved his other hand to your hip before wrapping both arms tightly around you to pull you into a tight embrace. His face buried against the crook of your neck as he let out a heavy sigh when your hands moved to rub his back soothingly. He hadn’t ever felt a kind of love like this before. 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you too,” you answered instantly, pressing a soft kiss against his temple. “Now, let’s go to bed so that we can cuddle.” 

Harry smiled and pulled back to look down at you. “Yes, ma’am.” He lifted you into his arms and carried you back to the bedroom. Once he set you on the bed, he pulled off his sleep pants and set it aside before climbing onto the bed and underneath the sheets. Harry immediately spooned you from behind, his arm draping over your midsection as he held you close to him. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” you whispered. 

Harry nodded against you, face buried against you. “I know, baby. I just didn’t want to bother you with all of the things that were going on in my head.”

“Hmm,” you mumbled, moving a hand over his and lacing your fingers together. “You’d never bother me, Harry. Besides, if the roles were reversed, I know you’d tell me the same thing.”

He chuckled and kissed the side of your neck. “Okay, fair point.” 

You smiled proudly and leaned back against him. Harry tightened his grip around you and shut his eyes. “Good night, Harry.” 

“Good night, baby,” he whispered. Harry knew that his insecurities wouldn’t magically go away, but he felt safe and heard with you by his side. He brushed his thumb across your engagement ring and he let out a contented sigh. “Thank you for choosing me,” he said quietly. 

[julietsf1]

Overtaking Your Expectations - Oscar Piastri x Reader

summary: your biggest mistake this weekend? underestimating Oscar Piastri. now, he’s making sure you know it (3k words)

content: fluff, introvert warming up, lando's friend x oscar

AN: china did not go easy on my heart lol *cries in ferrari* glad mclaren did well though I really like oscar so glad the team just lets him win when he is p1! hope you all have a lovely day darlings <3

.......................................................................

Race weekends have a rhythm. The steady hum of engines, the flurry of activity in the paddock, the undercurrent of competition that pulses through every conversation, every movement. You’ve been to a fair few of them by now—tagging along with Lando, watching from the sidelines, soaking it all in.

But this weekend? Shanghai feels bigger.

Maybe it’s the packed paddock, maybe it’s the humidity that clings to your skin like an overenthusiastic handshake, or maybe it’s just the sheer weight of the stakes, the speed, the inevitability of something dramatic happening.

You’re standing in the McLaren garage, taking it all in—the organized chaos of race preparations, the smell of fresh rubber, the sound of mechanics running through last-minute checks—when a voice cuts through the noise.

Calm. Dry. Just slightly amused.

“You don’t work here, do you?”

You turn your head.

Oscar Piastri is standing a few feet away, arms crossed, an easy but intent look in his eyes, like he’s trying to place you. He’s still in his McLaren team kit, hair slightly mussed like he’s just pulled off a helmet. He looks precisely as composed as someone who drives at 300 km/h for a living—annoyingly so.

Your lips twitch. “That depends. If I say yes, do I get paid?”

There’s a pause—not because he’s actually considering it, but because he’s amused that you even said it.

His mouth quirks. “Not sure. But you’d probably get a uniform.”

You pretend to think. “Tempting. I’d look good in papaya.”

Now, he actually smiles. Small, but real. A fraction of a second too long.

“Right. So, you must be Lando’s friend.”

You tilt your head. “What gave it away?”

“The way you’re standing here like you own the place, enough mischief in your eyes to make me wonder if I should be keeping an eye on the spare parts.”

You snort. “Wow. So observant.”

He shrugs. “It’s a skill.”

Before you can respond, there’s movement near the front of the garage—Lando’s voice filtering through the commotion as he chats with his engineers. You feel his presence before you see him, the energy in the garage shifting slightly as he approaches.

Oscar notices too, glancing toward the noise before looking back at you.

“Well,” he says, stepping slightly aside, like he’s about to say more but thinks better of it, “guess I’ll let you get back to… whatever it is you’re doing.”

And just like that, he’s gone—moving effortlessly back toward the garage setup, disappearing into the organized chaos.

And you, despite yourself, find your eyes lingering just a little longer than necessary.

…

You weave through the McLaren motorhome, trying your best to look like you know exactly where you’re going. The problem is—you don’t. At all.

Every hallway looks indistinguishably sleek and corporate, every door marked with something unhelpfully vague like “Operations” or “Strategy.” You briefly consider making a bold, confident turn into one of them, but there’s always the looming risk of accidentally wandering into a pre-race briefing and getting thrown out like a lost intern.

That’s how you find yourself here—somewhere in the depths of McLaren HQ, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, when a familiar voice cuts through the hum of paddock noise.

“You’re back.”

It’s not a question. It’s an observation, one that comes with the dry, knowing tone of someone who expected to see you eventually.

You glance up. Oscar Piastri.

He’s standing just a step away, hands tucked into the pockets of his McLaren-issued hoodie, his expression as effortlessly unreadable as ever—except for the telltale glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Was I not supposed to be?” you ask, arching a brow.

Oscar tilts his head slightly. “Just an observation.”

You hum, taking a slow sip of your coffee, partially to hide the fact that he’s somehow already gotten under your skin. “Should I be flattered you noticed?”

Oscar doesn’t answer immediately. He just watches you, like he’s weighing his options—play along or push back?

Then, finally, he smirks.

“Well, I do have to keep track of Lando’s distractions.”

You scoff, nearly choking on your coffee. “Wow. Bold of you to assume I’m a distraction.”

His lips twitch, eyes flicking down to your McLaren pass dangling from your lanyard. “Aren’t you?”

You roll your eyes, exhaling sharply. “Shut up.”

Oscar lets out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly. “So… where exactly are you wandering off to?” His tone is casual, but there’s a flicker of amusement beneath it, like he already knows the answer.

You hesitate. “Nowhere in particular.”

His brows lift, clearly unconvinced. “Right. Just happened to end up here, directly in front of my driver’s room?”

You scoff. “That’s a stretch.”

Oscar hums, hands still casually tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. “Not that I’m complaining, obviously.”

You open your mouth to fire back a response, but instead, he takes a small step forward, nodding his head down the hall. “Come on.”

You blink. “What?”

His lips twitch again, barely hiding a smirk. “You were trying to find the break room, weren’t you?”

You pause. Okay, maybe you were.

Oscar takes your non-answer as confirmation, already turning slightly. “Figured. I’ll walk you.”

For some reason, you don’t argue.

You fall into step beside him, the two of you weaving through the sleek McLaren hallways, his pace unrushed, too at ease for someone who should probably be doing something more important.

A few team members pass, some sparing a curious glance, some not bothering at all—because to anyone else, it probably just looks like a normal conversation. But there’s something oddly settled about the way he walks beside you, like this isn’t the first time, like it’s just easy.

The lunchroom comes into view, and Oscar gestures toward an empty table near the back.

“Sit,” he says simply, sliding into the chair across from you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You narrow your eyes, but follow anyway. “What, you’re babysitting me now?”

Oscar shrugs, leaning back in his chair, expression perfectly neutral. “I don’t know. Maybe I just enjoy the company.”

And annoyingly, you don’t hate the way that sounds.

Before you can respond, a new voice drifts in from just over your shoulder.

“Oi, stop corrupting my guests.”

Lando.

You barely have time to turn before he’s already breezing past, casually throwing an arm over the back of your chair—not fully joining the conversation, but just present enough to remind Oscar exactly where your loyalties lie.

Oscar doesn’t seem remotely fazed. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says smoothly, though the glint of amusement in his eyes tells a different story.

Lando exhales dramatically, as if this is truly the greatest burden of his existence, shaking his head as he scrolls through his phone. “Good. Because I need her focused on manifesting my race win.”

At this, Oscar finally looks back at you. “Oh, is that what you’re doing?”

You shrug, sipping your coffee again. “Of course. I’m a supportive friend.”

“Right.” His lips curve just slightly. “And definitely not underestimating me in the process.”

You hold his gaze. “I don’t underestimate. I just bet smart. Only one number one driver in the team.”

There’s a small beat of silence, the words hanging just long enough to feel like a challenge.

Then, Oscar exhales a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Interesting take.”

Lando, half-listening, barely invested, lets out a small, distracted hum. "See? She knows what she's talking about." He then grins, teasing, "Just don't pull a 'Multi 21' on me please, Osc." He pats your shoulder and wanders off without another word—his attention clearly already pulled elsewhere.​

You watch him go before turning back to Oscar, who’s still standing there, his expression unreadable.

“What?” you ask.

He shakes his head slightly, as if highly amused by something he’s not saying out loud. “Nothing. Just wondering how confident you really are in that bet.”

You narrow your eyes. “Oh, I’m very confident.”

Oscar hums again, but it’s less a hum and more of a quiet, knowing sound. The kind that lingers.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

And when he finally moves to leave, he does so with an air of quiet certainty.

As if he already knows something you don’t.

…

Race day. The Shanghai International Circuit is buzzing with energy—mechanics darting between garages, engineers murmuring into radios, and cameras following drivers as they make their rounds. The entire paddock feels like it's holding its breath, the anticipation thick in the air.

You're perched in the McLaren hospitality lounge, scrolling through your phone, the last moments of calm before the chaos begins. Absentmindedly, you post a pic from the garage yesterday on your story, captioned:

"Let’s go, Lando! Bring it home"

The moment you hit send, a shadow falls over your table.

"Wow." The voice is dry, unimpressed, and far too familiar. "Brutal."

You glance up. Oscar.

He's standing there, arms crossed, expression perfectly neutral—except for the unmistakable glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Brutal?" you echo, arching a brow.

He nods toward your phone. "Publicly backing the wrong papaya boy. Tough to see."

You snort, locking your screen. "Oh, come on. Surely, you’re used to it by now."

Oscar exhales, tilting his head slightly like you've personally wounded him. "Wow. Just twisting the knife, are we?"

You grin, tilting your head right back at him. "I don't know. You seem like you can take it."

His lips quirk. "I can. But that doesn't mean I have to suffer in silence."

"Ah, so what you're saying is," you muse, tapping your fingers against the table, "you're here to guilt-trip me?"

Oscar sinks into the chair opposite you, completely uninvited, and shrugs with infuriating ease. "I just think it’s fascinating."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he continues, eyes flickering with mock disappointment. "I mean, I get it. You’re Lando’s guest. You feel obligated. But deep down? I think you know you’re backing the wrong McLaren driver today."

You scoff, folding your arms. "That’s a bold assumption."

"What?" His grin is almost lazy now. "Just saying, if I were you, I’d want to be on the winning side."

You gasp, dramatically. "Wow. So not only do you expect me to abandon my loyalty to my dear friend, but now you're calling me a bandwagon fan?"

He lifts a brow. "Wouldn't be the first time people switched sides after a race."

You shake your head, trying not to laugh. "You are so��smug right now."

"Confident," he corrects smoothly, with a little cheeky wink.

You lean in slightly, matching his challenge. "Alright then, Piastri. If you’re so sure, let’s make this interesting."

His smirk deepens. "Go on."

You pretend to think. "If Lando wins, you have to—" You pause, eyes flickering over him before smirking. "Actually, no. I’ll save that for later."

Oscar blinks, then tilts his head, clearly intrigued but trying not to let it show. "And if I win?"

Your grin widens. "I guess I’ll admit I backed the wrong papaya."

Oscar lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "That’s it? No real stakes?"

"You want me to grovel?"

He hums as if considering. "Wouldn’t say no."

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself up from your chair. "Go win your race first, then we’ll talk."

Oscar watches you for a beat, then stands, stretching slightly.

"Good," he murmurs, eyes flickering with something unreadable. "I'll see you after the race, then."

And just like that, he walks away, too at ease, too sure of himself.

The worst part?

You can’t tell if you want him to win or lose. Probably both.

…

The Shanghai podium celebrations are wild—McLaren crew drenched in champagne, cheers echoing through the paddock, orange confetti stuck to everything in sight. Oscar won. Lando finished P2. It’s a dream result for the team, and the energy is electric.

You’re lingering near the back of the garage, watching as Oscar strides in, helmet still in hand, damp curls sticking to his forehead, fireproofs half-zipped down. He looks buzzed, winded, like he’s still catching up to the fact that he just won a Grand Prix.

You weren’t planning to stare. Really, you weren’t. But something about the way he looks—sharp, effortless, quietly victorious—makes it annoyingly difficult not to.

He catches your eye immediately.

“Ah,” he says, grinning like he’s already won twice today. “My biggest doubter.”

You fold your arms, smirking. “Doubter? I prefer realist.”

Oscar scoffs, shaking his head. “Right. And what’s your realist take now?”

You pretend to consider, tapping your chin. “I guess I was wrong.”

He arches a brow. “Sorry, what was that?”

You narrow your eyes, mock-annoyed. “Don’t make me say it twice.”

“I just want to make sure I heard it correctly,” he says, stepping closer, the noise of the garage fading slightly around you. “Did you just admit you underestimated me?”

You exhale, dramatically. “Fine. You were fast today. Scary fast.”

Oscar tilts his head, his gaze flicking between yours, like he’s memorizing the moment. “I’ll take that.”

His voice is softer now. The teasing still lingers, but there’s something else beneath it.

And for the first time, you let yourself actually feel it.

The heat curling between you, the undercurrent of something that’s been there all weekend, just waiting for someone to name it.

“Alright, relax, mate,” Lando interrupts, draping an arm around your shoulders, half yanking you away from Oscar. “You’re acting like you won the championship, not one race.”

Oscar lets out a breathy laugh, running a hand through his damp curls. “Sorry. Forgot I’m supposed to act like I don’t care.”

Lando smirks. “That’s more like it.” Then, he squints at you. “But you—” he taps your arm, mock-accusing, “—I saw you talking to him way too much today. And he never talks to anyone.”

You roll your eyes. “Relax, Norris. You know you are my favorite McLaren driver.”

Oscar chuckles, shaking his head. "Still backing the wrong papaya, I see."

You shrug, grinning. "I stand by my choices."

He leans in slightly, voice dropping just enough to make it feel deliberate. "Mmm. Let’s see how long that lasts."

Lando groans, shaking his head. "You do realize I can see you two, right? Like, I’m standing right here. I hate this. I’m leaving."

You laugh as he walks off, shaking his head, disappearing into the crowd of McLaren personnel.

Oscar, still standing close, exhales through his nose, amused. “You know, for someone who’s so sure about her loyalties, you’re suspiciously invested in proving me wrong.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “I am not invested.”

He lifts a brow, tilting his head slightly. “Aren’t you?”

You hold his gaze. “No.”

Oscar hums, studying you in that annoyingly patient way of his, like he’s waiting for you to break first.

And then—he steps in, just enough that you feel the space shift, just enough that your breath catches before you can stop it.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he murmurs, voice lower now, teasing but edged with something softer.

You blink. Heart in your throat. “You thrive off of this, don’t you? Making my life difficult.”

He grins, easy and unbothered. But he doesn’t step back.

“Maybe.” His gaze dips, just slightly, like he’s debating something. “You don’t seem to mind so much, though.”

Your stomach does a stupid, useless flip.

You could say something snarky. Something to break whatever is suddenly heavy in the air between you. But for some reason, you don’t.

In your attempt to break the tension, you roll your eyes, lightly shoving his arm. “Go celebrate, Piastri.”

His smirk lingers as he steps back—just slightly, just enough.

“Oh, I am.”

He turns to leave but hesitates—just long enough for you to notice, just long enough for it to feel intentional.

Then, with an almost lazy kind of ease, he glances over his shoulder. “You coming later?”

It’s not a demand. Not even a direct invitation. Just a question, wrapped in something that feels a little like a dare.

Your lips twitch. “Depends.”

Oscar tilts his head slightly. “On?”

You pretend to think, tapping a finger against your chin. “How generous you’re feeling after your win. Think you can handle buying me a drink?”

His smirk deepens—not cocky, not smug, just amused.

“Yeah,” he says simply, eyes flicking over you once before settling again. “I think I can handle that.”

Your grin widens. “Good.”

[asxgard]

Companionship | pt. 1

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x f!reader

| Next

Series Summary: He’s not sure how he got here, perhaps it’s the aching loneliness or the overwhelming stress. You’re there because it seems like easy money and you have a pushy friend. All in all, it’s a good deal — he gets the companionship he’s after, no strings, and you get your utility bills paid on time. It’s pretty simple, easy, until your arrangement bleeds into something a bit more…complicated.

[ Series Masterlist ]

Note: Me?? Coming off hiatus?? Bit nervous about this one, but I’m jumping right in lol not sure how long this’ll be. Struggled between making it a reader fic or making an oc, but here we are.

Takes place prior to The Pitt.

Word Count: 1.7k (they’ll likely be longer going forward — just needed to lay the groundwork)

Warnings: BIG age gap omg (roughly 18 years even after I aged Robby down a bit, ~44), foul language, ptsd mentions, mentions of sex work, descriptions of hospitals/patients and brief mentions of violence at said hospital, mild dubious consent later on (like barely), eventual sexual content (afab!reader), angst, mutual pining, mentions of difference in power dynamic, medical errors bc I am a simple bitch, Dr Robby lacking some emotional intelligence/bottled up feelings. (Also you go to school for accounting and have two named friends). Slowburn. Mature themes.

This is not a promotion of such gaps or sugar daddies in general — it was just an idea I had and I couldn’t get it out of my head. Dr Robby seems like a good man, so I doubt would actually seek out such a relationship, but I have no doubt that that man is lonely and stressed as hell lol and this is my fic soooo

not beta read

Michael Robinavitch really had no idea how he had ended up in this situation, sat in that little cafe miles away from his normal stomping grounds. There was the obvious — getting on the subway and physically walking into the building, but the events that led him there nearly made him stand and walk back out.

It had started with a patient he’d had several weeks prior; a man not much older than himself, who had no family, and money to burn. The pretty woman who had come to visit was out of his league, painfully so, but she had sat diligently by his bedside and comforted him while the residents ran all the necessary tests. When she had slipped out of the room to make a phone call, the man had boasted.

His once complicated relationship with Heather Collins aside, Dr. Robby usually found such age gaps problematic and messy; a man looking to take advantage of such a gap or a woman looking to gain monetarily, or both. In his experience, it was rarely pure intentions — but what the man had gone on to explain after a confused look of one of the residents, was they weren’t in a relationship. They weren’t even having sex. He was simply paying for a beautiful woman’s companionship. No complex relationship, no true illegal activity or prostitution; just a busy man and an uncomplicated solace.

“Not really even a sugar daddy,” the patient had explained to Dr. Robby and Perlah, doped up on pain meds, “though it’s a fine comparison.”

What two grown adults got up to in their free time was their own business, the patient’s voice rang in Robby’s head, and if a man likes to spoil his lover or his friend, then that’s not illegal.

His heart thumped anxiously in his chest. This was only going to be a distraction, one completely unconnected to Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center and that would be a breath of fresh air. Besides, if this turned out to be a complete disaster, he could just go on with his life. No changes.

—

You took the long way to the cafe, anxiety eating at your insides. Why had you allowed Erin to convince you this was a good idea? It had seemed harmless at the start — laughing and joking with Erin while you downloaded the app, talking to a handful of guys looking to spoil you. Eventually settling on one particularly reserved man (which you found mildly endearing) and securing a “first date”. It had been thrilling. It had even been fun.

At least while it was all over the phone. Now it was real and you had such an urge to turn around and run for the hills.

University was expensive, and between clocking in as many hours at your office job and still staying on track with your classes, you still found that rent was hard to keep up with. Erin had found you in a state of distress over a bowl of cheap ramen, explaining quite plainly what she did to supplement her income. It seemed like it would be too easy. Erin told you she didn’t start out with anything sexual, mostly just spending time with lonely older men and keeping them company.

It turns sexual only if you want it to, but the pay can be better, was the only relief that echoed in your head. The control lies with you, and never let that change.

It only calmed you slightly — that, and the fact that if this date went terribly, or in a way that you became uncomfortable, you could call it all off. He didn’t have your number, or any personal information, only your first name. No arrangements had been made or agreed to, and you found comfort in it. You thought to go in and just get it over with, return back to your apartment and tell Erin: “It’s just not for me.”

Maybe you could pick up DoorDashing instead.

Before opening the door to the cafe, you quickly sent your location to Erin and sent a text to Marsi about coming by to study in a few hours.

You were instantly hit with the calming aroma of coffee once inside, though you felt too jittery to order any. You settled on decaf tea before turning to the tables on the far side of the cafe. You wondered if he was on time, or if you would instead pick the table. Maybe he won’t show.

You caught sight of him almost immediately and it made your heart jump with a renewed sense of anxiety. He was here. He was here.

His eyes were on his own cup, though you knew they were brown from his picture. His hairline was only slightly receding, with his hair thinning slightly atop his head, plenty of laugh lines adorning his face and a thick beard that held several grey hairs. His features seemed scrunched up in thought, dark brows pulled together. You would be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive, part of the reason you had accepted his request in the first place. If you were going to do this, it wasn’t going to be with someone you could barely look at. You could fake a lot of things, but genuine interest was not one of them.

“Michael?” You asked softly, hand on the back of the chair opposite him.

He looked up and gave a stiff smile, before confirming your name.

You smiled back at him, nodding. You pulled the seat back and sat with slow, calculated movements. Feeling his eyes on you made you swallow thickly, nerves running a rampage through your insides.

Erin had coached you, explained good questions to ask to suss out the bad ones, plus her own advice as to what she looked for and what was a red flag. All the advice seemed to flow right out of your head.

“How are you?” You asked, thumb tracing over the lid of your tea.

He huffed a small laugh, “I’m…fine.” A pause. “Look, I’ve never done this and I don’t—”

Relief pooled through your insides, though the nerves held strong. “Well, at least that makes two of us.”

His brown eyes met yours, seemingly surprised. He swallowed.

Maybe he was looking for direction.

Your eyes flickered to your tea and back again. “So, can I ask what made you sign up in the first place?”

He leaned back in his chair and cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah,” his expression suddenly turned uncomfortable, his left cheek scrunched up almost in a wince. “I’m just looking for some…companionship.”

Perhaps he was embarrassed.

You nodded, taking a slow sip of your hot tea. “Anything specific?”

His eyes flickered up to meet your gaze and he blinked. His eyebrows rose, “Nothing sexual,” he said, voice dropping into a whisper at the last word. “Just someone to listen, call and talk to, I suppose.”

Your heart stopped racing. “No interest in a girlfriend?”

“I’m too busy for that.” Though it seemed more like a deflection.

You watched him curiously, raising a brow, “Alright. Something like a friend, then?”

He considered it. “Someone unconnected to my life.”

—

He said unconnected, but he meant not worried about my wellbeing. He dealt with too many people asking how he was, too concerned with the past. He needed someone that let him breathe, someone he could reach out to on his own terms with no strings attached. Someone who wouldn’t pry, someone who would not be offended by his long silences and his avoidance of talking about his emotions. Someone who doesn’t look at me like I’m damaged.

“More like a companion.” He explained, elaborating, “I need someone who can give me more space than a friend would, who’s okay if we don’t talk for days at a time. Something easy and uncomplicated.”

“Ah, I understand.”

At least he didn’t sound insane. He had a few friends, but he frequently felt like he was putting on an “I’m okay” mask whenever he was around them. He didn’t want to wear that mask with just one person.

“Yeah,” he bit the inside of his cheek, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “What is it you’re looking for?”

You smiled, adding to the warmth of your face. You were beautiful, with pretty eyes and hair pulled out of your face. Far too out of his league, and young. Your profile showed an age that put you at nearly eighteen years apart. But, a corner of his mind whispered, it’ll be nice to have a beautiful woman’s attention.

“A bit of a distraction myself,” you told him, pursing your lips. “I’ve been quite stressed with school and it’ll be nice to not think about all that from time-to-time.” Then you smiled. “And maybe get some help paying my utility bill.”

He chuckled, soft and quiet, matching the grin on your face. “What do you go to school for?”

“Accounting,” you answered after a beat. “I’m working on my masters. What do you do for work?”

“I’m a doctor.” He said, careful to not elaborate much more. He was proud of his position, but he wanted whatever this was going to be to be completely separate from his professional life.

You seemed to understand, not asking any follow up questions that most people might have asked.

After only a handful more questions, you seemed satisfied. He asked about allowance, and your expectations, and found you would be a fine fit for each other. He felt a strange calmness overcome him as your conversation melded into small talk.

When you excused yourself to leave, you explained you wanted a day or two to sit on it. You expressed it wasn’t him, but the situation at hand that you wanted to think about. It brought comfort to him, knowing you were both a fish out of water in this situation.

Michael left the cafe feeling lighter than when he had entered, taking a long walk back home — silently deliberating. You were easy enough to talk to, and seemed to understand right away when to ask questions and when not to pry. You weren’t asking for anything outlandish in return, or even looking to make a living this way, only needing some help to finish school. He understood that, Pittsburgh wasn’t the most expensive city someone could live in, but add in school loans and he could see why you turned to supplemental income, as you had put it.

By nightfall, he’d received a message though the app hidden in a locked folder on his phone.

It was your number.

[ Next ]

[only-lonely-star]

Darry nsfw headcannons please please please

*proceeds to beg on hands and knees*/j

NSFW Darry Curtis HCs

Darrel Curtis x Reader

Warnings: NSFW content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Author’s Note: Yes, yes!! Keep begging- Darry is super into that! 😼I tried to make majority of them gender neutral, but I guess you could say a few of them aren’t. I hope you all enjoy!! 🫶🏼

─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───

He’s a gentle giant. I don’t think he would be into any rough activity. He’s bigger and taller than most, so it’s sort of shocking to realize that he isn’t all that scary in bed.

Speaking of being a giant… I’m 10000% certain this man has a size kink. Any size person will do for him, but it’s so arousing to have someone smaller. It’s easier for him to flip flop his partner around and switch positions if they’re tiny. (Technically, you don’t even have to be tiny. Average size works too since he’s so giant.)

He’s a sucker for quickies. Darry is a busy man, y’all. He’s always down for a quickie in the bathroom, car, or just as he’s waking up for work.

HE LOVESSSS to hear any moan/groan/whines from you. It’s like reassurance that he’s doing good and not hurting you with his size. If he doesn’t think you’re all that into it yet, he’ll pause and try to help you ease around him better.

He likes to watch himself move slowlyyyy in and out of you. It gives him that little push to keep going because he thinks it’s so hot lol.

I can’t see him being super into receiving head. Is he top tier at GIVING it? Yes, but that’s a different story. He feels it’s a little selfish to come home from a long day out working and ask you to suck him off. He’d prefer to do YOU the favor. Even if you’re the one to insist you help him wind down with a blow job, he just wouldn’t be as enthusiastic about it.

I can’t stop talking about how big this man is. (Maybe I’m projecting LMFAO.) Darry’s fingers are literally as wide as his dick. 2-3 fingers in and you’re already whining that you’re about to finish.

Piggybacking off of the last one, I think Darry would be so good with his hands. He’s really into overstimulation- do NAWTTT let this man use his hands on you. Whether he’s playing DJ with your clit or giving you a hand job, he’s smirking to himself the whole time because he knows you’re savage over his hands.

Honestly, his hands need more appreciation. This isn’t like a filthy headcanon, but just imagine them. They’re so big. Like- HUGE. They’re hella strong from lifting (lifting as in weights & heavy material at work). The back of his hands are veiny and somewhat scuffed up, but it’s oddly attractive…?

Darry begs to go raw when he’s really been craving you. He thinks it’s ‘more intimate’ that way if he can really FEEL your body. (All headcanons aside, please use protection.)

He’s not super vocal, but the occasional groan he lets out usually signals he’s about to finish. That’s his little breaking point.

He triple checks that you two are alone. He would hate to be heard/walked in on having sex. He just won’t do it. Not when there’s a slim chance of someone else overhearing. Especially in front of his brothers. It’s 10 times more embarrassing if they were the ones to find out about it. The teasing from the other boys would actually drive him insane.

I think Darry is a very passionate man. Any form of missionary, lotus, or maybe even doggy would be his go to positions. Very close, intimate, and hot. He just likes to be close to you, but also have the ability to see your face.

He love love lovessss to pepper little kisses wherever he can. One of his hotspots is around your neck/collarbone area.

If you’ve got tits, TRUST he’s all over them. Kisses, nuzzling the tip of his nose against them, squeezing them- all of it.

Darry loves when you get vocal. He wants to hear you beg and plead for him, and nine times out of ten, he won’t give you anything until you do.

This sort of contradicts the very first headcanon, but I think Darry might actually use his arms on you. Slight choking, nothing extreme. I can picture him putting you in a headlock of some sort during doggy just so he can kiss you more efficiently.

His form of aftercare is simple but effective. If he isn’t settling for just a quickie, he would make sure you felt content afterwards. A little snack and some water paired with constant checking in is his thing. Darry would ask how you feel (physically), if you’re hurt anywhere, how he did, etc. He’s overall the sweetest in bed, and he tries to make things as pleasurable as possible for you. You’re his ultimate priority.

AND THAT’S A WRAP, THANK YOU ALL FOR READING!! :D

-Sophia 🫶🏼

[xxsabitoxx]

JJK Men: Who is Most Likely to Have a Daddy Kink

Warning: this contains smut but not like... explicit smut. More so NSFW talk about kinks and such hehe

A/N: Listen... I used to have a real big daddy kink and I grew out of it forever ago... but sometimes y'all use "daddy" just right in some of your fics and it has me kicking my feet. So, for funzies, I wanted to share my personal HCs on who has a daddy kink and who doesn't lol

Geto Suguru

Sitting pretty and number one is none other than Suguru. Listen, I think this man has a massive daddy kink. I think this man gets off on you calling him daddy in and out of the bedroom. Like honestly? If you are really into it just like he is, he wouldn't mind it if you called him daddy all the time. Like, maybe save for calling him daddy in public or around friends. But in the privacy of your own home? In bed? When no one else can hear you? He'll be putty in your hands if you sweetly call him daddy. Part of the reason I say this is because I think Suguru is 100% a brat tamer, I think he lives for you being a little brat to him just so he can assert his authority over you and put you in your place. He thrives off of the ability to feel superior.

But, roughness aside, he will absolutely give you the best aftercare. Suguru will make sure you know how loved you are, he will constantly ask you for your reassurance that you are alright and he wasn't too hard on you. He'll shower you in love and praise and assure you that you are everything to him. He can get mean when he's in the mood to put you in your place, so he always prioritizes the aftercare.

2. Nanami Kento

I think Nanami has a daddy kink but he's kind of shy about it. Nanami actively hopes that you take the initiative and call him daddy. He's a bit embarrassed about the fact that he really likes the idea of being called daddy. He fantasizes about it when you aren't around to help him get off, stroking himself to the idea of you whispering that one word to him when he fucks you stupid. If you aren't going to take the initiative and call Nanami daddy, he'll eventually give in. He'll likely be balls deep in you when he grits out that you are to call him daddy. He'll be too lost in your body to even feel shame or embarrassment about the request and fuck will he come fast when you finally utter that one pretty word to him. All breathless and fucked out, you'll have Nanami falling apart every time you call him daddy.

Nanami also enjoys alternatives to Daddy, like calling him "sir". Unlike Suguru, he enjoys how respectful it sounds. Nanami won't make you call him daddy or sir outside of the bedroom, it's strictly a sex thing for him unless you express the interest in trying it outside of that scenario. Then, just maybe, Nanami will entertain the thought.

3. Ryomen Sukuna

Before you come and chew me out for the king not being at the top of this list... hear me out. Sukuna is from the Heian period, the man canonically speaks in old Japanese. Hell he asked Megumi to bewitch him. The term "daddy" is a little too new for Sukuna. That's not to say he won't grow to find interest in it. Sukuna much prefers when you call him things like "my king" or "my lord" he even enjoys "sir". But daddy will definitely take some getting used to for him. Once Sukuna gets acquainted with the idea, he will thoroughly enjoy it. He rather likes how flustered you get when you utter the word, making you say it in front of others just to watch them get uncomfortable as you so politely refer to him as daddy. He gets off on the embarrassment more than the word itself, but he does enjoy the nice little ring it has.

Aftercare can be mildly nonexistent with Sukuna. Sometimes his form of aftercare is making you cock-warm him after he just spent hours abusing your most sensitive bits. But other times he'll wrap you in his arms and whisper about how "nobody will ever love you like daddy does." brainwashing you into being content with him.

4. Gojo Satoru

Satoru has mixed feelings about the whole "daddy kink". Depending on your relationship, it may not be rare for you to jokingly call him daddy. Just as he will jokingly call you mommy. But these little "jokes" take a steep turn one night when he's fucking you stupid and he asks you to call him daddy for real. For some reason, it does him in. You'll later learn that you rather enjoy when he calls you mommy while you fuck and then it turns into this awkward little "we shall not speak of this outside of the bedroom" topic. You'll use the words against each other when in public just to see the other get worked up. But, much to Satoru's dismay, he realizes he really does like it when you call him daddy. He can't even explain it, especially since he would relentlessly tease Suguru for having a daddy kink.

Satoru loves aftercare, especially after times when he's punished you. The same can be said for when you provide aftercare after punishing him... having a daddy and a mommy kink is a whirlwind for the two of you. Satoru will clean you up and the tuck both of you in under the nice comfortable blankets, whispering about how he adores you and appreciates you for letting him live out his little fantasies.

5. Fushiguro Toji

Toji isn't really into the daddy kink... mostly because it reminds him of the responsibilities he ran away from... but if you really have a thing for calling him daddy, he's not going to stop you. Toji actually prefers it when you're mean to him, calling him filthy and rude names, belittling him, and calling him a nasty old pervert. He gets off on you being rude to him while he fucks you stupid. Nothing gets him off more than being called a sleazy fucking perv. He doesn't know why but you degrading him will have him blowing his load shamelessly in minutes. But if you really want to call him daddy, Toji will for sure entertain you. Because fuck does he love putting a brat in their place.

When it comes to aftercare, it really depends on your relationship. Toji may just blow his load and then dip, leaving you to clean up and pull yourself together. But if Toji has feelings for you, or if you fucked him really good? He'll clean you up before collapsing in bed beside you.

[saltcxrcle]

boyfriend headcanons ⟡ s. winchester

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x gn! reader

word count: 1.2K

warnings: no use of 'y/n', fluff, a smidge of angst in the beginning, some suggestive content, no smut, lowercase intended

a/n: i will make a dean version and probs a pt. 2 for sammy if I come up with some more headcanons! also did not expect this to be as long as it became lol

please enjoy and reblog and comment! i love hearing your thoughts.

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

⟡ some fears before dating you

before you got into a relationship with sam, he was very hesitant about dating or liking anyone romantically (he knows that he doesn’t have the best track record with love) 

but when you came into his life, you broke down those barriers (without him realizing it), and he became more accepting of his feelings for you (even if it scared him shitless) 

you had to drill into his head that whatever happened to you would never be his fault bc you knew he’d drown in his guilt if you got hurt or worse. it took time for him to accept that something would happen to you that it wasn’t his fault 

okay, now onto the more happy stuff (sorry didn’t mean to start with the more heavy stuff, lol) 

⟡ the actual headcanons 

he’s the best partner ever!! 

sam has a big heart and holds a lot of love for you, and though he can be hesitant to say the words for fear of jinxing the relationship (he’s superstitious about it), he shows how much he loves you through his actions! 

he would have a mix of all of the love languages (obviously, everyone shows a mix of them), but his top three would definitely be quality time, acts of service, and physical touch 

⟡ physical touch 

i think that early seasons sam would be much more tactical with his touch and showing you physical affection 

would use any and every excuse in the handbook to touch you in some way. resting a hand on your shoulder, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear or forehead, etc. 

but post szn 5 and 12 sam, he would shy away from it at first, and you would totally understand and let him take the approach first, never initiating it until he feels like he can handle it 

but this goes hand in hand with PDA  in any szn, he’s not big on PDA he’s okay with hand-holding and pecks on the lips, temple, or cheeks but not overt displays of affection but behind closed doors, it's free reign for him  aside from the PDA 

he LOVES getting his hair played with  like without a shadow of a doubt, i know in my heart of hearts that sam winchester is a fiend for getting his hair played with 

is a cuddle bug  doesn’t matter if it’s sweltering hot; he loves to have you in his arms no matter what secretly loves when it gets cold, you seek him out for warmth (he’s like a space heater from how much he radiates heat) 

FOREHEAD AND NECK KISSES!! (and lots of them) LOVES kissing you  there will be times when sam wants to make out with you in the back of the Impala. either to piss off dean or because you get no privacy in the motel room, you’re sharing with his brother. 

is the best hugger ever. it’s almost criminal how his arms can wrap around you and engulf your body and instill a feeling of safety in you, like no one could hurt you while you were in sam’s arms.

⟡ acts of service

as i’ve stated above, sam doesn’t express his love through words, but he does show it through his actions 

he knows all of your fav movies, flowers, music, snacks, how you like your coffee/tea, etc 

he actively listens to you and keeps track of the things you mention (he has them written down or in a note on his phone) and just pulls this information out when he needs it

will do things if asked of him by you without question (but within reason, lmao) 

(this also translates into fun times in the bedroom, LMAO)

don't know if this counts as an act of service, but sam loves putting things on the top self on purpose (to see you struggle a bit bc he thinks your pout is so adorable), but so you can ask him to get something for you, and does so with a smile on his face 

⟡ quality time

would use any excuse to spend time with you 

doesn’t matter if he just came back from a hunt and is exhausted; he would sit down and listen to you talk about what you had just read or what movie you watched while he was on a hunt 

will actively plan dates with you on hunts if he has downtime, which would most of the time be in the car with Dean and asking him for help or input  "they'll like whatever you plan for them. now, for the love of god, please shut up!" (sam had been pestering dean most of the car ride home about where to take you on the first date and was fed up with his little brother)

having movie nights!

spending time in either his or your room reading or just basking in the presence of each other, content with sitting in silence, grounding him with your touch as you guys fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

late-night conversations in bed! more often than not, your pillow talk with sam would turn into very late-night conversations and sometimes even turning into early-morning chats.

⟡ protective

this is a given, but sam is so protective of you that it can be a problem at times

He doesn’t mean to be overbearing, but his mind is an overactive one and can be a little (a lot) protective of you 

I think if you were a hunter, he’d be such a worrywart because he knows what this life does to someone and kinda hates that you are one (even if this is how you guys met in the first place lol) 

but it’s the same if you’re not a hunter because he’d be paranoid that a monster would be out to get you if they knew you were even associated with him or his brother 

he’d take so many precautions: teaching you the basics of hunting (but making you promise that you won’t go out and hunt), teaching you self-defense, gifting you an anti-possession charm (or going with you if you want the tattoo), painting demon traps under your rugs, salting windows, and maybe even convincing you to move into the bunker with him 

⟡ some random ones 

wearing his clothes his chest warms and his heartbeats faster each time he sees you wear something of his he does go a little feral when he sees you wear nothing underneath his clothes unfiltered sassy sam before the two of you started to date, you would catch glimpses of sassy sam when he would banter with dean but when you started to dish out some of your quips in the conversation and being a smartass to him that's when the sassy man apocalypse hit him, and it snowballed into him out-sassing you sometimes when the two of you could get into a back-and-forth

teases you about your height  it doesn't matter if you're an inch shorter or a foot shorter than him; he can and will tease you about your height it brings him much amusement when you snap back with jokes of your own or when you blush when you don't have a snappy retort (yes, it means he has a size kink, but shhh, no one is supposed to know)

[midnight-mourning]

Sharing Isn't Caring

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 13💘💘

Hello! Finally finishing these up, bit of a busy weekend and this one in particular got VERY long lol, that being said hope you enjoy!

Prompt: i really liked that one promptober you made about the reader having robophobia ( cause sun killed a few workers and has been avoiding him ever since, scary ass animatronic) is it possible to have a prompt where yn is doing better, has work besties. Aside from the constant threat of being brutally murdered by a friendly animatronic, theyre work life is chill. Its around valintines day where y/n has made friends with the cute new girl. Both have platonic feelings for each other while also being flirty (satire, gotta kiss the homies goodnight) with each other, kissing cheeks, hold hands, other friendly touches. However this does not go unnoticed by our favorite daycare attendants. They too try to be playfully flirty and touches yn any chance they get. However envy gets the better of them when they want to be yn's valentine...

Word Count: 3475

Content warning: non-graphic mentions of death, dying, violence, etc.

Read here if you prefer ao3!

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

"Good morning!" A voice greets as you walk into the break room. 

You look up from your phone, small, tired smile on your features. "Ah, morning Jaz."

"You sleep alright?" She asks, taking a sip of her coffee. "You look exhausted."

You wince, a reminder of your nightmare last night coming forth. 

Running, running, running, tripping, falling. Claws sinking in, a scream ripped from your throat, cruel laughter ringing in your mind as it happens and being able to do nothing to stop it—

You shake your head. It was just a dream. They hadn't figured you out. At this point, you don't know if they ever would. Lucky, you'd been so, very lucky so far that they were solely focused on being your friend. Not a bit of suspicion in either of them as to what you knew. 

You hoped to god it'd stay that way, too.

Several months have passed, and you haven't beared witness to anything quite so terrifying since. Though, you'd made sure you wouldn't. You never let yourself get caught up in the evening hours, and you never let yourself be alone with either Sun or Moon. 

Save for the few times they'd managed to make such a scenario happen themselves, however.

Sun had meant it when he said he'd cure your 'robophobia'. They were sure trying their hardest, at least. 

Chatting with you every time you came to drop off a delivery or supplies, dragging you along to partake in some on days they were—suspiciously—lacking a helper. Sun particularly like to play hide and seek or house, whereas Moon wouldn't let you leave until you took a nap. 

Both made it their mission to be as up close and personal as they could too. Touches lingering just a tad too long, cornering you in one way or another, tones playful, cheeky. To an outsider it would seem like harmless fun, but to you, all it did was make you keep your guard up more. Which in turn, only made them try that much harder. 

It was a vicious cycle, but after the incident that occurred a little or a month ago, you could at least say—for now—that your chances of dying were significantly lower than you'd have thought otherwise. 

You'd forgotten your keys. Or maybe lost them, you still weren't entirely sure. You'd gone through every inch of the Plex where you'd been working that day, without a sign of them. There was only one place you hadn't checked, and it scared you to your core. 

You had debated whether to knock on the doors or not. Ultimately deciding that you'd rather take your chances slipping in and out unnoticed then actively invite the devil to your doorstep. Or you to the devil's, you realize there's little point to figuring it out much further. 

The speakers play the usual tune, the space is empty as can be as you peek inside. 

A quick glance around and you spy your keys on the desk. It takes everything in you to not make a beeline for them, instead walking calmly over and picking them up. You're about to turn back around when—

*Thump!*

Directly. Behind you. 

"Hello Sunshine! What brings you here so late? Did you stop by just to see little ol' me?" Again, that cheeky voice that perhaps only you can hear the sinister undertones of.

You suppress the scream and the shiver you want to let out. Instead, you turn around with a small, forced, smile. "H-hi Sun! I was just um, looking for my keys. And what do you know, they were in here all along!" You lift them up, making yourself laugh to keep your nerves in check. "I'll get out of your hair now."

"Silly, silly, I don't have any hair! And besides,"—a hand to your wrist, tone dropping just a tad—"You just got here. Would be a shame to leave so soon, hm?"

You start to falter. "I—"

"So come on then! You look ready to fall apart at the seams, and I can't have that happening to my favorite little assistant!" Sun shifts his grip to your hand, pulling you further along into the Daycare. "Don't you worry, I have just the thing to ease that tension."

He pulls you over a set of beanbags, he guides you to sit down in one, while he does in the other. Before you can blink, there's a coloring book and crayons in your lap. 

"Coloring is always soothing for the soul!" He states, finger pointing up in an affirming manner, then gets to work on his own book. 

There's only one thought in your head at that moment; you're going to die here. 

But, you're not quick enough to make a break for the door, so you have no choice but to accept your fate. Shaky hands gripping crayons in an attempt to distract yourself from your impending doom. 

As you go along, Sun pesters you constantly with conversation and questions. It confuses you, does he just like playing with his food or what? 

You answer best you can, but all the air leaves your lungs when he pops a question you were more than simply fearing. 

"—since we're such good friends, right?"

You freeze, and curse yourself for it, mouth feeling like glue as you tumble out a stuttered response. "Y-yeah. We're friends."

"Best friends?" Sun presses, leaning in close, you're waiting for him to take hold of you and slam your face into the mats just like—

"A-ah. Um, I don't know, I-I guess so? Sorry, I've um, not really had a best friend before..."

You were so screwed. 

Yet, Sun doesn't miss a beat, words a light as ever as he pouts. "Oh, well that won't do. I'll just have to keep trying until you feel completely confident in the notion that we are!"

And you were still standing the next morning. You don't know if it was a fluke, or what, but it certainly didn't seem that way. You'd take what you could get, though, and double, triple checked that you had all your belongings in their proper places from then on. 

Jaz clears her throat. Right. Back to the present. 

She'd been a nice change of pace over the last month or so. A fresh face to help you with things or pass in the hall. You were the same age, and related to each other a lot. It was… nice. To have someone to talk to, even if she couldn't know even the beginning of what you'd witnessed. 

But, you could tell her little things, insignificant, things that nobody could pick up on. 

"I had a nightmare, is all. I'll be alright." You sit down in the chair beside her, sighing. 

She tsks. "You seem to have a lot of those."

"It's not a willing participation, I assure you." You're rubbing your eyes when you spy a steaming mug being held in front of you. "Oh, you didn't have to do that."

A shrug. "Wanted to. Now drink up, I heard from Gary that we've got a lot of inventory to move today."

"Going to be a great morning then." You mutter into your cup as she snickers. 

Work had in general been a lot easier with the additional help, and just in general because of your new friend. She made you laugh, cheered you up on your rougher days, and was just in general a light in your life as of late. Not to mention, she'd inadvertently managed to help you overcome your fear of being touched you'd developed from witnessing the Attendants' actions. 

It was simple things, like touches to your shoulder and arm. Holding your hand and dancing around at the end of the work day, jokingly flirting and cheek kisses and the likes. No double meaning or the likes either, Jaz was just like that with everyone, you'd soon found. It eased you in a way you couldn't describe. You could relax around her and it felt like you'd gotten a bit of normalcy back into your day to day. 

Not to mention, through getting to know Jazz you'd gotten a bit more confidence in talking to others at work, and now had several coworkers you'd consider friends both in and outside of work. Things were… weird beyond that, but at least for the moment they were going alright. 

"So then I finally just told him, 'boy if you don't get your act together, she's going to leave you' and do you know what he said?" 

You snicker, adjusting the boxes in your arms. "What?"

"'But that's so much work'" She exaggerates the tone, with an extended groan and you let out a shocked laugh. "Like? Excuse me? You can't be serious right now."

You're still laughing hard as she pushes the roll cart through the Daycare doors. "That's insane. Does he just not care or is he stupid?"

"Between you and me,"—she leans in, voice low—"I think it's both. Fu-freakin' moron."

You giggle, about to give a quip in response when a loud voice interrupts.

"Good morning Starshine! Oh, and hello Jaz!" Sun stands just to your left, you don't know how you didn't hear him. "I didn't know you knew each other!"

Jaz lets go of the cart, arm wrapping around your shoulder. "Sure do! We're stuck being storage monkeys together. They've been a big help in showing me the ropes."

"As if you needed help, it's pretty straightforward." You set down the boxes in your arms finally. 

You glance over and see Jaz put her hand to her chest, feigning misery. "Oh, but if it weren't for you, i'd be completely and utterly lost! I don't know what I'd do without you, my best friend." She makes kissing noises at you as you laugh, gagging. 

"Knock it off." You swat at her lightly, then you look up to Sun. "If you just tell us where you want everything, we'll move it, Sun. Stop it!" You shove Jaz away as she pretends to try and kiss you cheek again. 

There's a snap then, drawing your attention to the attendant, you see the marker he'd been holding is broken in half, movements stiff as he glances down to look at it. 

"Oh. What a shame. Follow me, I'll show you exactly where to put everything." He turns, steps precise as he marches across the Daycare. 

While you pick up on the shift, Jaz doesn't seem to, simply taking hold of the cart again and following after him. You debate for a moment, and against your better judgement, swipe a wet wipe from the desk. The supply closet is tucked away in a hallway lacking light. So much so that it's Moon who finishes leading you. 

While Jaz starts to unload things in the closet, Moon waits at the doorway, attentive, unyielding in his gaze.

You clear your throat. "Um, need some help with that?"

His faceplate snaps to look at you and you swallow. It clicks to the side a few times as he examines you.

You nod to his hand, which you've no doubt is stained a deep purple by now. "I meant with the um, marker."

"Ah, thank you, Star." Moon snickers, opening his hand for you to wipe it off. 

You take his hand in both your own, wiping off where the marker has changed the color. It's a bit harder to do in this low light, but you manage. 

You don't expect Moon to speak up again. "Best friends?"

It takes a moment to click to you. "Ah. Yeah. We are."

Moon makes a noise then, grating, you can't make sense of it. So, you just ignore it and finish cleaning him up before going to help Jaz. Had you paid closer attention, you'd have noticed how tightly his hand grips the doorway, making it creak under the pressure. 

After that day, you notice that both Sun and Moon have somehow become more clingy. 

It wasn't just short conversations and little activities anymore. It was full blown discussions and non-stop things to do. Anytime you tried to protest that you were far too busy to spend so much time with them, they simply argued that nobody would say a thing. Which, they were right, your manager didn't seem to care in the slightest. 

Those touches from before were ramped up, in that there was more hand-holding, more hugs, more everything, that you'd let them get by with, that is. All of their previous efforts from before felt ramped up, and you had no idea as to why. Not to mention that they appeared to be more flirty as well.

And then came February. 

Right from the start of the month, something was different with them, you could tell instantly. And you soon found out what. 

When you came in to drop off supplies or such, there'd be little notes or doodles waiting for you. You'd find their comments going from less friendly to having a more flirtatious connotation. And all of it only got worse the closer you got to Valentine's Day. 

"Sunshine, come dance with me!" Sun would say, dragging you with him to spin through several songs. Hand on your hip and words soft as he gave you compliment after compliment.

Moon would do similar, asking you to sit with him and read the children stories at naptime, watching over your shoulder and softly singing your praises. Or even better, acting out the stories with you, especially enjoying the more romantic fairy tales in particular. 

And the thing was, much like their attempts at friendship, all this doting felt genuine. 

It confused you beyond belief, besides the fact that it concerned you deeply. You were already struggling enough with this 'friendship' you'd been cornered into with the murder robots, the fact that they were acting as if they were romantically interested was only making things worse. 

The morning of Valentine's you were a ball of nerves. You were hoping—praying, really—that they wouldn't try anything, though you knew the unlikelihood of that happening. At this point, your feelings were so confusing, twisted. You thought they'd approached you because they knew you knew what they'd done. And yet, countlessly time and time again you'd been—seemingly—proven wrong. 

"You alright over there, Sunshine?" 

You jolt at the nickname, sending a scowl Jaz's way. "Not cute."

"I think it suits you well." She snickers, checking her phone. "What's on the agenda for today, boss?"

You tsk. "Not your boss. And I have no idea, I haven't checked yet." You rub your face, pulling up your schedule, only to find it's blank. You sit up, muttering. "That can't be right..."

"Something wrong?"

You try refreshing the page, no luck. "Yeah, my schedule's empty. See if you can pull up yours."

After a moment, Jaz holds up her phone, her own schedule showing up without issue. 

You both share a confused look. 

"Dude, did you get fired?"

You feel flustered fear build up in you then. "Better not of. They have no reason to get rid of me."

It's then that you notice an email in your inbox. Clicking on it, you see it's from your manager, telling you to see him in his office about a 'change of location'.

"I don't remember you saying anything about wanting to transfer." Jaz comments as you stand up. 

You shake your head, grabbing your jacket. "I didn't."

On your way to your manager's office, passing by the Daycare, you hear a low whistle calling out to you. 

You turn, it's dark, the only light is glowing red eyes on the top of the wall. Knowing you don't have much a choice, you walk over. 

"Hi, Moon." You say, unsure. "How's um, naptime?"

He twists, hanging upside down from the wall. "Boring. No one to talk to."

"Well what about Jean—" You cut yourself off, words dying in your throat with realization. 

Moon doesn't catch it, instead snickering to himself. "Sick."

Something in your gut tells you that's not in the slightest bit the truth. 

"Ah. Gotcha. Well, I should get going now." You wave and turn around. "See you later."

*Thump!*

A hand resting on your shoulder, and the sudden up close and personal presence behind you startles you, to say the least. 

"Wait. Have something for you."

You swallow the urge to run away. "Oh?"

"Mmhmm." Moon hums, right beside your ear. "Close your eyes."

You do, it's not as if there's a scenario where you don't. 

A pause. You're half-expecting something terrible, be it something grotesque or even something as cruel as your own end—

"Open."

Flowers. It's flowers. 

Origami flowers, at that. You're impressed by the intricacy of the folding, they're delicate, precise. Something that would have taken even the most skilled of individuals genuine time and care to make. 

And you're being presented a massive bouquet of them.

"Wow..." You trail off, consumed with genuine awe. "I, for me?"

Moon snickers, faceplate spinning once. "Happy Valentine's, Little Star."

Right, Valentine's. You'd entirely forgotten for a moment. 

While you're in your daze, Moon plucks a flower from the bouquet and tucks it behind your ear. He then sets the bouquet into your arms with a gentle pat, then hops back up on the ledge. 

"See you later~" Another giggle, and he's gone, leaving you dumbfounded. 

Your boss hardly glances up at you when you step into his office. "Ah, finally. Sit down, let's make this quick."

You sit down, still not quite thinking clearly as a stack of papers is tossed in front of you. 

"Sign these, and then I'll switch you over to the Daycare in the system. Their liability and the likes since you're working one-on-one with the Attendant. Fionna will be in charge of you from now on, paychecks, etc. Think she lets the robot pick the schedules, for whatever reason. Any questions?" He finally looks at you then, raising a brow. "Quite the bouquet you got there. Do I need to get you a relationship form from HR too?"

You shake your head. "I, no. No, not at all. I, why am I being transferred?"

"Well, you asked." Your manager states plainly, then shrugs. "And you got a couple good recommendations so I figured 'eh, whatever'. You can start today once you're done here. Or take the day off, I don't care, not my problem."

You just sit there a moment, taking it all in. 

'You asked.'

You, asked.

You know a sign when you see it. And you know when an alarm bell is blaring in your head, it's best not to ignore it. 

But when you've got a gun to the back of your head, that's much harder to ignore. 

You pick up the pen, and sign. 

Your steps are heavy as you walk back to the Daycare. Jaz has texted you a couple times, your like a zombie as you type by brief responses. You don't know what to think. Should you be relieved, or counting your days? 

They wouldn't have put in this much effort if they weren't genuine. Surely they weren't running this long of a con. But then that meant they were genuine. The killer robots were infatuated with you. 

You don't know which is worse, you don't know which is worse, you don't know which is worse—

"Hello Sunbeam! I'm so happy to see you!" 

You look up, Sun stands before you, rays spinning gleefully. You didn't even realize you'd walked into the Daycare. 

He claps his hands. "Oh! We're going to have so much fun, fun, fun! We get to spend all day long together! Just you and me! And well, the children too. But still, isn't it great?"

"I, um sure. I guess so." You mumble out. 

The slight twitch to his rays doesn't go unnoticed by you. The slightest of shifts in his tone as he glares down at you.

"Come now, friend. Aren't you excited? After all,"—He suddenly bends to your height, leaving you face-to-face and inches apart—"Aren't we best. friends?"

You struggle to maintain eye contact, focusing slipping to the bundle in your arms as you try to think up a way to respond. 

A low chuckle interrupts your racing thoughts. "Ah, but maybe that's not enough for you either?"

"I, um." It is a miracle you've lasted this long with how you're fumbling over your words.

Sun's hands cup your cheeks, tone still a hum. "Love, all you had to do was say so. In fact, we wish you'd done so sooner." His smile presses to your forehead. "Not to worry, we're more than happy to make up for lost time."

You can only stare up at him with smothered horror as his thumb strokes your cheek.

"And now, there's nothing that's going to get in the way of that."

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

Thank you @pip-plz for the request!! As you can see I had a lot of fun brining these two back lol

My writing Masterpost

DCA Valentine's Masterpost

Tag list (if you would like added, simply say so!):

@machopeach @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzybee3

[sofs16]

our home

part 1: paddock day , part 2: our leclerc win, part 3: our love in photos — next

not proofread, as usual:)

yn.jpg

budapest, hungary

liked by charles_leclerc, alex_albon, carlossainz55, and 392,383 others

yn.jpg beautiful race and driver who man never sits still 😆

view all 82,484 comments

laufeyyn as much as i love you and paddock yn, do you not have a job? 😭

⤷ yn.jpg NOO DW ID QUESTION THIS TOO! i actually still do have a job but it’s mostly online unless there’s a photoshoot somewhere or meeting:) i usually do my work at the paddock (war flashbacks to when i was called a horrible wag for being on my laptop😊) but yes i still work! ⤷ ynml i love how straightforward she is esp w the hate she got at silverstone LOL HATERS

[liked by yn.jpg]

chacha166 i love how its been a year but yn is still so active with us 🥹

⤷ yn.jpg you guys are so kind and silly its kinda hard to stop 🤷🏻‍♀️

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️

july 23, 2024

charles_leclerc

liked by yn, and 7,383,383 others

charles_leclerc P2 at Spa! Huge congratulations to Carlos on his win. Started at P14 and maximized the car. Time to recharge ❤️

Photo 📷: @yn @yn.jpg😘

view all 271,484 comments

yn proudest of you ❤️‍🩹

⤷ charles_leclerc ❤️

yncharles THE PGOTO CREDITS LALALAAJAKAHAHAHAHA

carlossainz55 Why does yn not take photos of me

⤷ yn i do but i havent posted them yet, carlitos :( congrats on p1! yahoooo

july 30, 2024

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 6,373,383 others

yn something happened 💟

view all 981,574 comments

charles_leclerc 🏠

⤷ yn hehehe

yncharlesparents DID THEY MOVE IN TOGETHER WHAT

[liked by yn] ⤷ yncharlesparents SHITTING MY PANTS

⤷ yn wear a diaper, it helps

yourbsf i better have a room yn yln

⤷ yn the living room is spacious enough ❤️

⤷landonorris what about me

⤷ yn um we have 2 couches? ⤷ landonorris good enough

august 3, 2024

liked by yn, and 10,483,494 others

charles_leclerc Home ❤️ And can you believe Yn has 2 closets and says it’s not enough? 😂

📷 Photo: @yn @yn.jpg 😍

view all 1,483,695 comments

user11 she’s so ungrateful

user13 I bet she makes him buy all her clothes..

⤷ yn @user11 @user13 Actually, I have a job that allows me to pay for my wants, not that I need to explain myself! And I am very grateful for everything so don’t make assumptions, it was a joke. Hope you have a good life and actually find a job instead of being rude to people you don’t know! ❤️

[liked by charles_leclerc]

⤷ yneditss I fear, she ate. ⤷ charles283 I bet the PR is not happy abt this but we are 😊

⤷ yn i spoke my truth 🤷🏻‍♀️

⤷ynhumor I CACKLED I LOVE HER

⤷ ferrariforza You know she’s serious when she makes the capitalization and punctuations 😭

yncharles16 i love how yn is slowly taking over charles’ insta hehe he’s so whipped

august 6, 2024

f1wagsoft._

liked by yn, and 7,585 others

f1wagsoft._ Yn and Charles ❤️❤️

view all 328 comments

yn 🥹❤️‍🩹

⤷ ynstan yn is always active for f1wagsoft._ AHAHA

⤷ yn loveeee em

⤷ f1wagsoft._ ❤️ august 7, 204

yn.jpg

liked by charles_leclerc, and 2,483,595 others

yn.jpg peaceful life 💌

view all 1,385,584 comments

ynzangel SHE HAS CHILDREN?

littlewomennzz EXCUSE ME?

lovelaufhlife WHAT

charles_leclerc Beautiful❤️

⤷ landonorris WHAT IS HAPPENING

yn.jpg IM NOT A MOTHER

⤷ ynschild you’re our mother. ⤷ yn.jpg true dat, child

⤷ ynsfan did she just say “true dat” HAHAHAHA IM GIGGLING I LOVE

⤷ yn.jpg WHAT AB IT ??????? august 8, 2024

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 4,484,484 others

yn im sincerely sorry for the fright. i am not pregnant or with child or have child 😭

that was charles’ nephew and niece…

view all 934,484 comments

landonorris Soon?

⤷ yn YOURE LITWRALLY MY CHILD HUSH

⤷ landonorris maybe.. idk

⤷ yn IM OLDER THAN YOU? ⤷ landonorris BY A FEW YEARS

charles_leclerc Cuteeee🤓

[liked by yn]

yourfavynstan All jokes aside, she looks like she’s make a lovely mother:( especially one with those quiet lives away from all the chaos of fame

⤷ charles.updated the day they settle down and charles content disappears 😭😭😭😭

⤷ yn this is so kind omg. and you will never run out of charles content as long as i live and we live together! pinky swear

⤷f1gr1dd I LOVE HER IT HURTS

august 9, 2024

f1wagsoft._

liked by 14,383 others

f1wagsoft._ That… is not Yn Yln with Charles Leclerc.

view all 29,383 comments

ynchar YN? MOM? WHAT

charrrl guys, theres more pics leaked.. it’s him… and not yn.

charlando WHAT

ynupdated @yn pls what. be active. youre always active here

user16 i don’t like charles with anyone other than charlotte and i thought i would he happy about this but im not. charles and yn truly did look like they loved each other

⤷ yncha WE DONT USE “LOVED”. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER

⤷ f111grid delulu is the solulu. we’re the same 😞

ynleclerc1 Not with zandvoort gp 2 days away.

riciando idt yn will respond abt this. sure she seems very open but you can see she’s only open about certain parts of her life. we don’t even know how old she is or where she lived before charles or anything 😭

august 23, 2024

#SOF : is this a bad time to say im a writer who likes to leave cliffhangers ?

[httpsserene]

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐬 (𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠!) - 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: maybe this time, the natural distance between them concerning their now different job requirements would help max get over his small, miniscule, tiny, fractional, microscopic, miniature, little, itty-bitty crush on daniel. it didn’t work the first time, when younger-max had avoided his ex-teammate like the plague after his move to a different team—if anything that absence made his heart ache for daniel more, even though he tried his hardest to hate him. so now, maybe that max isn’t the one causing the growing gap between him and daniel, this space might dissolve max’s fondness. 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. idiots in love. mild angst. fluff. happy ending. attempt at humor. plot with a side of porn. the timeline is mostly accurate. max verstappen is an oblivious idiot. daniel ricciardo is an obvious idiot. 5+1 things (in a way). the three musketeers: charles, pierre, and lando. light praise kink. light dom/sub undertones. mild orgasm delay/denial. 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 9.5k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: max verstappen x daniel ricciardo

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: so....how's life been treating y'all while i disappeared for two months :) ? no, um, sorry for ghosting you guys; i know, i'm surprised that i didn't forget my login info. life started being life for a good amount of time and i got really sucked into school and work. aside from the boring everyday stuff, i've got an internship this summer (yay!), i'm pretty sure i have a bit of a mutual-crush with this boy in my morning lecture, and i've started playing final fantasy sixteen.

anyways, this is my longest work ever! and i'm dedicating it to one of my sweetest betas, bianca. you requested this long before my disappearing act in december, and i told you i was nearly finished with a 6k-word fic for your request. to make up for my unexplained absence, i rewrote the entire thing into a near ten-thousand word feel-good masterpiece.

i hope this fic is of good enough quality for all of you wonderful f1-stans to forgive me because, i'm back, and hopefuily here to stay lol. enjoy reading, loves &lt; 3.

requested & written by/for @biancathecool

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milton keynes, red bull racing headquarters, pre-season 2023

daniel looks happy. max doesn’t know why that surprises him—maybe he’s projecting his emotions (his therapist says he does that quite often) onto the man. the surprise makes sense though, max thinks, as he watches the australian chatter away with the engineers, the largest toothy smile spread across his face like he never left red bull behind in 2018. if it were max who had gone through the mclaren bullshit along with not having a guaranteed seat for the upcoming 2023 season, and he had to settle for a third driver position: he would scourge the world with his fury.

but: it’s not max, it’s daniel. it’s daniel, who was warmly welcomed back into navy blue (papaya did not suit him), it’s daniel, who doesn’t snap at the marketing team when they ask how he’s “coping” with not being on the grid. it’s daniel, who becomes friends with checo easily. it’s daniel, who’s scheduled to fulfill the pr activities that the two red bull drivers refuse to complete. it’s daniel, who has clocked in insane hours in the sim and factory while max has been enjoying his off-season. 

it’s daniel, who hasn’t shown any signs of disappointment about not having a seat this year.

if he won’t show or admit it, max will. having a race weekend without daniel doesn’t feel right. max knows this, even though the season hasn’t started yet: he’s going to be miserable. it’s like when daniel left him the team. of course, max had pushed daniel away after he signed with renault. what was he supposed to do? react calmly with the emotional intelligence he didn’t have? max thought the man hated him when he didn’t tell him that he was leaving before the news was released. 

regardless, instead of the australian leaving, this time around he’s coming back, which max had originally believed was the best thing to ever happen. he’s not so sure of that anymore. daniel belongs in the car chasing him with the smell of burning rubber and petrol surrounding them. max doesn’t appreciate how the smell of race tracks has already disappeared from him. he could tell it was missing when daniel made a show of giving max the biggest hug as soon as he stepped foot in the factory.

maybe this time, the natural distance between them concerning their now different job requirements would help max get over his small, miniscule, tiny, fractional, microscopic, miniature, little, itty-bitty crush on daniel. it didn’t work the first time, when younger-max had avoided his ex-teammate like the plague after his move to a different team—if anything that absence made his heart ache for daniel more, even though he tried his hardest to hate him. so now, maybe that max isn’t the one causing the growing gap between him and daniel, this space might dissolve max’s fondness.

“max, kid,” christian waves a hand in front of max’s face with an unimpressed look, “did you hear a single thing i said or were you too distracted by the sight of daniel in red bull gear again?”

the tips of max’s ears redden, and he snaps his head away from where it was turned to watch daniel’s constant smile, to face his team principal. max doesn’t know what he was thinking; his crush is going nowhere.

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑.

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35

© httpsserene 2023

[deepcoraldragon]

Oh my fucking god. rant incoming

Okay so June is shaping up to be great! Twenty one pilots just announced new music (!!!!!), and with deltarune right around the corner and silksong not far behind (🤞🏻) I thought I'd check in on another few fandoms that suffer from Long Awaited Syndrome.

I pretty much left the sanders sides fandom a few months after WTIT came out, because I was losing interest (and 'cause I got sucked into the dsmp fandom, lol). But that doesn't mean I'm not still curious to see what new episodes came out since!

None

Working through intrusive thoughts was posted in July 2021. In two months, that will be four whole years ago. I had time to get a master's degree since the last official sanders sides episode!

And at first I thought I just wasn't finding it, because there are a lot of videos in the playlist after WTIT. But no, they're all bonus/side content

Now to be fair, a few asides could be counted as mini episodes, a bit like the early, simpler videos. But the others are just, like... song covers. Crossovers. An ad. But anyway, since the last tss episode, we've had 22 videos:

3 bloopers reels

1 special

8 sanders aside

4 incorrect quotes

whatever the fuck the anime intro is

5 "doing an activity with the sides"

And no episode.

While I'm glad that Thomas hasn't completely abandoned the series, that main content : bonus content ratio is wild. And don’t get me wrong, fillers are fun too! I like bloopers and incorrect quotes. But bonus content is supposed to be built around actual content 😭

Is this because the next episode was supposed to be the season finale, and Thomas is blocked on it? Is he just burned out of making serious videos? Are his expectations for the production too high? Is it because some of the team left?

I’m not in the fandom anymore, so I’m not disappointed or mad or anything, mostly just baffled. When I left in 2021, I was already half expecting Thomas the discontinue the series, but not that sort of halfway point

Ultimately, Thomas doesn't owe us any type of content (bar the patreons), and forcing himself to make something he doesn't like probably wouldn't end up great anyway. But I think at this point there's serious questions to be posed about the future of the series.

And the crossover videos seem especially damning to me. Since our last episode, we've had tss in the style of West Anderson, as characters from inside out, inspired by the nightmare before Christmas, as an anime, and covering a song from over the garden wall. To me, it seems like Thomas doesn't want to make the sanders sides, he wants to make something different, but for one reason or another he clings to the characters.

Anyway, I hope we get some answers, one way or another. Especially for the patreons, since it was advertised as helping him make more sasi content. I still follow many people in the fandom, so I'll almost certainly see it when/if the finale releases, I'm still curious to see what I'll look like!

And if we get silksong before the sasi finale you'll hear from me, lmao

[inkofthebrain]

Imperial

[Paul Arteries x Reader] 3751 words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor’s eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them…

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of y/n, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? ARRAIGNED MARRIAGE TROPE EXCEPT BOTH PARTIES ARE PISSY ABOUT IT, not proofread LOL.

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions

A/n: Ur gonna hate me but I’m splitting what was originally going to be this chapter in half. It’s getting longggg.

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Dune masterlist

Seven———

The next day you were awakened by the sound of knocking at your bedroom door. You slowly sit up in bed, stretching your shoulders and back as you rouse yourself from sleep.

One of the house maids is at your door, she bows respectfully before placing a robe down on a nearby chair.

“My lady, you have been summoned to the baths,” she says politely, “they have prepared everything for you.”

You smile at the maids statement, feeling a slight jolt of amusement. You had almost forgotten about the promised pampering session, and the sudden reminder fills you with delight.

The maid moves aside as you rise from your bed and change into the robe.

She leads you out of the bedroom and down the hallway. You follow behind her, your steps light. The estate is bustling with activity, servants scurrying around making last-minute adjustments and preparations for the upcoming celebrations.

The bath chamber is a large, elegant affair, the walls and floors made of polished white marble. The ceiling is painted with images of clouds and the sky, making you feel like you are outdoors. It is dimly lit, a soft glow emanating from the walls, lighting the various bathtubs and areas for massage.

The bath chamber is staffed with a dozen or so servants who spring into action as you enter. Preparing bath salts and oils, massages and wraps, and a myriad of other treatments. The attendants move efficiently and quickly, a product of their years of experience.

You step into a tub of lukewarm water and soak for a bit before an attendant helps you out and guides you to a plush table. You lay down and she applies massage oils and works on your muscles. You let out a soft moan of satisfaction as the tightness and soreness vanishes from your muscles. Eventually another attendant starts applying a mask of clay and honey all over your body while another performs a manicure-pedicure.

It is pure bliss, every sensation of your body being taken care of to your heart's content. You can hardly remember a time when you felt so relaxed and content.

You have several hours to yourself to rejuvenate. You spend the day reading, soaking in the various baths and pools. The soft white pillows and couches are as comfortable as any bed.

You lose track of time, simply enjoying the various sensory experiences as you immerse yourself in the water and soak up the scents and aromas surrounding you. The staff keep your food trays topped up, and new trays of fruit and snacks are continually laid out for you.

You hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching, Delia’s distinctive, confident stride, her steps light and swift. The bath attendants bow politely as she enters, and she acknowledges them with a respectful nod.

As she makes her way over to you she rests one arm against the edge of the bath you are sitting in. Her gaze is soft and caring, her voice gentle as she speaks.

“You look positively radiant, my lady.”

You smile at her, your eyes glimmering in the light, “I feel radiant,” You reply, stretching your arm out to take her hand. She gives you a curt nod of acknowledgement before taking a breath.

“The guests have started to arrive for tomorrow.” Delia informs you, “You have a few hours to yourself before you have your final dinner with the Duke and his mother prior to your wedding day”

Her words snap you back to reality. Your smile slightly falters as you come to the realization that your time alone is coming to an end.

“Yes… The guests have started arriving haven't they.” you trail off, a subtle expression of longing crossing your face as you glance around the baths once more. “I will miss this.”

She gives your hands a light squeeze. Delia always carries this soft sympathy which almost breaks your heart—There are moments where she looks at you as though you were her own daughter.

“I know, my lady” She replies before releasing your hands and steps back, “let us get ready” she says gently, as if sensing your reluctance.

There was no point in resisting or protesting. There was work to be done, political connections to forge and strengthen.

— — —

You follow her through the hallways, a flurry of servants scurrying about around you. The castle is a hive of activity, people rushing to and fro, last minute preparations.

Eventually, you reach the lavish doors to the dining hall, pausing as you await for one of the guards to open it for you.

You take a breath, steeling yourself for what comes next. The dinner itself was a lavish affair, the courses served on delicate porcelain china and the crystal glasses glimmering in the candlelight. Paul was already waiting at the table with Jessica seated beside him.

Jessica leads the conversation, her words witty and filled with excitement for the days ahead. Eventually, the conversation turns to the political situation. You take a sip of your wine, your thoughts immediately turning to the political situation. You have spent years preparing for this moment, and you do not intend to waste the opportunity. You speak in a confident, persuasive tone, outlining your insights and strategies.

Paul leans forward, his attention fixated on you, his admiration for your skills and abilities evident in his expression.

“There is one final issue we must discuss,” Jessica says, her tone serious as she sets down her glass of wine, the delicate crystal making a soft sound as it hits the table. Her blue eyes are firm, and there is no hint of hesitation or reluctance when she begins to speak.

“You need to have children, my lady,” she says bluntly.

Your heart sinks, and you feel the anxiety of the future rising again. Her words are direct and unapologetic; she is not attempting to soften the blow. She is simply stating a fact, and it hits you like a gut punch. “Your role as a bride, especially of your stature, necessitates heirs. It is a political need.”

She is not simply referring to a desire to produce children eventually, she is talking about immediately. A child will further legitimize the Atreides in the Imperial family, and a royal couple will be expected to waste no time in doing their duty.

“ I am aware of my duties as a wife,” you peer into her blue eyes, “I know what must be done”

Dinner ends with a soft murmur of praise and approval. Paul's attention remains fixated on you for a moment, his expression serious and thoughtful. He stands up, and Jessica's gaze lingers on you for a moment before she too stands. The servants quickly begin to clear up the table.

Paul offers you his arm, and you take it, allowing him to lead you from the dining room back to your shared hallway.

“Quite the day tomorrow hm?” You end your sentence with a small hum.

Paul nods solemnly, a soft smile playing across his face. "It will be a historic occasion," he says, leaning his head near yours to whisper softly, "I do not know if I will be able to sleep tonight." His tone is sincere and sympathetic, and there is a hint of nervousness at the realization of what he is facing.

You let out a small chuckle, “Likewise, I might have Delia sedate me.” Paul laughs softly at your joke. There is a moment of genuine amusement in his expression. He likes the way you handle stress, the way you deal with tension and anxiety with humor. It is a glimpse of your true personality, behind the carefully crafted mask of poise and diplomacy.

He takes a deep breath, as to steel himself, and you can tell that he has moved into a more serious frame. He stops and faces you, his expression gentle but resolute.

“Try to get some rest tonight,” he says, “tomorrow is an important day for both of us.”

Both of you were well aware that tomorrow will mark a pivotal turning point in your lives as you come to a stop outside the door to your suite, a brief moment of silence hangs over you like a cloud.

“Tomorrow our destinies are intertwined” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, “are you ready?”

Your heart flutters for a moment, and you take a deep breath. You have never been this uncertain, yet somehow you feel more sure of yourself than ever before.

You give him a firm nod, your expression set and determined. He bows his head slightly in understanding and steps away, continuing down the hall. As his footsteps recede into the distance you watch him go. As he approaches the door to his room he pauses for a moment, his silhouette framed in the doorway. He turns back one more time, his hand resting on the doorframe. His eyes meet yours and there is a moment of understanding passing between the two of you, as if a silent promise has been made.

He steps through the doorway and disappears from view, leaving you alone in the darkened, emptied corridor. You can hear the distant sounds of the servants making preparations and you feel a sudden wave of anxiety wash over you. Your heart is pounding and you can feel your nerves beginning to fray. You take a deep breath and try to calm yourself; there is nothing to be done but to get some rest and prepare yourself for the inevitable. Tomorrow will be a long, emotionally draining day, and you need to be at your best.

With that you turn to face your chambers, entering and shutting the door firmly behind you. Once you fully enter you are met with the warm glow of candles and the comfortable surrounding of your personal space. Delia is bustling about, ensuring that everything is in order, and you can sense her nervousness and excitement.

You can see the glint of anticipation in her eyes as she smiles warmly, “My lady,” she says, her voice soft and respectful, “are you ready for tomorrow?”

You smile slightly, giving yourself a moment to adjust to the idea, “as i’ll ever be,” you say quietly, your tone laced with a mix of trepidation.

“Of course, my lady,” Delia says, nodding in understanding. She immediately begins to rummage through your wardrobe, pulling out a soft nightgown and various other items for you to change into.

You watch her for a moment, your mind racing with thoughts and emotions. You try to push aside the anxiety and focus on the task at hand. Sleep.

Delia hands you a sedative, which you gladly take, and you wash it down with the cup of sleepy time tea sat on your nightstand. With one final huff you climb into your bed, letting the soft sheets envelop you as Delia begins to blow out the various candles positioned around your room. Soon you are in complete darkness as you hear your dor click shut, signaling her leave.

Your eyelids grow heavy as you start to feel the weight of sleep pulling you into the darkness. The soft moonlight filtering through the curtains becomes hazy and distorted, the shadows dancing on the walls like a silent, dreamlike show. Your mind begins to wander, fragmented images and emotions flash through your mind like a slideshow of memory and imagination. For the first time since your arrival on Caladan, you do not dream.

You are pulled from your sleep as light filters in through the, now open, curtains, landing on your face.

“Goodmorning my lady” Delia says, standing near your window, “I'm sorry to wake you, but the day has begun.” The words send a jolt through your body causing you to sit up in bed, the reality of the day quickly coming to the forefront of your mind. You take a deep breath in an attempt to collect yourself,

“Thank you Delia,” you say as you stretch out your arms, feeling the knots and kinks from sleeping begin to fade. You swing your legs over the bed and stride to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face as you grip the sink and stare at yourself in the mirror.

You hear the sound of your door opening and the ruffeling of dresses. Delia. You exit the bathroom and see an array of morning dresses laid out for you.

Delia greets you with a smile and instantly delves into the schedule for the day, “Your schedule starts early I'm afraid,” she says, her tone earnest and efficient. “Breakfast is served in the small dining area to the left of the main hall, Lady Jessica will be joining you today. You will then be escorted to a dressing room to prepare you for the ceremony. The ceremony will be in the great hall at noon,” she takes a breath, “then there will be a reception and a few diplomatic meetings scheduled in the latter half of the day.”

Her words are like a deluge, washing over you like a tidal wave of responsibilities and expectations. You take a breath, trying to absorb everything she's said.

Soon you are swiftly dressed and on your way to breakfast, Delia trailing at your side. As you reach the small room you see Jessica waiting, dressed in a deep red gown, her hair pulled back into a simple yet elegant braid. She smiles as you enter, her eyes filled with pride and excitement.

“Good morning,” she says as you take a seat against her, her voice is warm as she busies herself with making you a cup of tea. “Did you sleep well?”

“As well as can be expected. I'm looking forward to the day,” you reach for the teacup, taking a sip of the steaming liquid. It helps calm your nerves, even if it's just for the moment that you feel the warmth go down your throat.

Jessica nods, a slight smile playing on her lips.

“Today is a momentous occasion, and it’s important to start the day off on the right foot. I have full confidence in you. You will do well today.” Her words sink in, bolstering your resolve, and confidence. You take another sip of the tea, feeling the warmth spread through your body even further.

“Thank you, Lady Jessica.” You say, smiling faintly.

“”Of course” her expression softened to one of affection, “you are soon to be part of the family.” With that, she turns her attention to the breakfast spread laid out in front of you, gesturing for you to help yourself to the various dishes laid out before you.

The breakfast is an assortment of simple yet delicious fare; fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, and a selection of the finest meats and cheeses. You help yourself to a few items, relishing the taste and texture of the food as you welcome the distraction from the anxiety swirling in your mind.

Through the meal, you both chat softly about the various guests who will be attending the ceremony and the different diplomatic interactions that will no doubt take place.

Jessica offers her perspective and advice in a way that is both insightful and reassuring, and you begin to feel more prepared for the day’s events. You are aware that many of her inputs are that of the Bene Gesserit, and the more in detail she goes about the politics you slowly start to realize the true influence of this faction in Imperial politics.

As you finish your breakfast, Jessica dabs her lips with a napkin and looks at you, “It’s nearly time,” she says, her tone steady yet excited.

You nod to the attendant, who quickly steps forward to escort you to the changing room. Once you approach the lavish room, Delia immediately springs into action. She dismisses the servants and grabs ahold of your arm, pulling you into the room.

“Quickl, my lady, we must get you dressed into the ceremony attire.” Her voice is ecstatic as she helps you out of the breakfast gown and quickly guides you to a table where your gown is laid out.

It is a work of art, made from the finest silk, and shimmers softly in the light. As you begin to step into it you feel the silken fabric glide over your body, the weight and texture immediately grounding and empowering you.

Within moments, with the help of various other attendants, you are dressed. The gown fits your frame perfectly.

You gaze into a mirror adjacent to where you are standing and it all begins to become very real. You are to be Empress, your father is to be executed, and you are to marry. WIth a sigh you turn away and stride to take your seat at the vanity, where the hairstylist is waiting to do your hair alongside the makeup artist.

In a whirl of powders and sprays your hair is weaved into an elegant braid, a few strands laying around your face, which glimmers in the light. You close your eyes as your jewelry is put on and a few adornments are put in your braid.

As you stand all the attendants watch in awe, you are befitting th4e elegant and regal occasion of the day.

“You look magnificent” Delia says, adoration dripping in her voice, “Are you ready?” She asks softly.

With that you take a deep breath to gather your composure, smoothing out the gown with your hands. Despite the nerves still fluttering deep inside you, you feel a newfound sense of confidence and poise. “Yes,” you say, voice steady and determined, “I’m ready.”

With that Delia takes hold of your arm, giving it a light squeeze, as you turn to leave the room, your gown swishing softly with each step. You are led to a small, private room adjacent to the great hall. The room is dimly lit, the heavy velvet drapes drawn closed to create a sense of enclosure and solitude. As you step inside, you can her the soft murmur of voices and chatter from the other room, the sounds of the bustling guests filtering through the thick wood door.

You take a moment to steady yourself, taking deep breaths as you look around the room, taking in the simple yet elegant decorations and furniture. A small chair is placed by the door, and a small table holds a tray of light refreshments, untouched and waiting.

“Wait here while I make one final round to ensure everything is ready” Delia says softly, “I'll be back in just a moment my lady” She then slips out of the room, closing the door gently behind her.

You are left alone in the room, the sound of your own breathing echoing softly in the quiet space. You take a moment to ground yourself, closing your eyes and focusing on your breath, slowing it and deepening it until your heart rate has slowed to a steady beat.

The silence in the room is both calming and claustrophobic, and you find yourself wandering around the small space, your hands touching the smooth fabric of the drapes and the cool, polished wood of the furniture. The wait feels endless, but you know that you must remain patient and composed until the time comes.

The sounds from the great hall seem to grow louder and more insistent, the excited chatter and laughter seeping through the closed door. You can almost picture the scene unfolding just a few feet away from you, the guests gathering and taking their seats, the ceremony attendants going about their duties.

You can hear the sound of the orchestra playing a beautiful instrumental piece, the melodic strains filling the air. It’s a signal that the ceremony is about to begin, and you can hear the guests in the great hall hushing and settling into their seats. You can imagine Paul preparing to walk out, his steps measured and steady, his presence commanding and regal.

You stand near the door, listening intently for any further sounds or cues that would indicate that it's your turn to walk out. The anticipation is almost overwhelming, and in the quiet of the small room, your thoughts and emotions threaten to drown you.

suddenly, the door creaks open, and Delia steps into the room, her expression calm and composed. "it's time, my lady," she says softly, her voice carrying an air of urgency. "the ceremony is about to begin. are you ready?"

your heart skips a beat at her words, and you nod, gathering your composure and courage. you take one final deep breath, smoothing out your gown and straightening your shoulders. "yes," you reply, your voice steady and firm. "I'm ready."

Delia nods in approval, her eyes gleaming softly in the dim light. "you're going to do splendidly," she whispers, her voice tinged with a sense of pride. "just remember to stay composed, and everything will be alright."

with those words, she moves towards you, giving a final inspection to make sure that everything is in order. She adjusts a stray lock of hair, her touch gentle and reassuring.

Finally satisfied, she steps back and motions for you to follow her out. "Let's go," she says, her voice soft but firm. "The ceremony awaits."

you take a deep breath and follow her out of the room, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpet that lines the hallway. your heart is pounding in your chest as you approach the great hall, the sound of the music and the murmured conversations growing louder with every step.

the great hall doors are massive, carved from the finest wood and polished to a mirror-like finish. the intricate patterns and motifs etched into the wood are a testament to the skill and craftsmanship that went into its creation. as you approach the doors, you can hear the sounds of the ceremony attendants bustling about on the other side, readying themselves for the ceremony. the air is thick with anticipation and excitement, and you can almost feel the energy simmering just beyond the threshold.

As the doors slowly swing open, you see the great hall spread before you, a grand space filled with guests and attendants. The room is bathed in a warm, golden light, and the air is filled with the scent of roses and incense. As you step forward to the aisle, the eyes of the guests turn to you, and a hushed silence falls over the room.

———

Next chapter

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🍾Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @serapinaxx @goldeneagles-posts @star-maker-rain-dancer @beebumbo

[yuurivoice]

Question time again!!

1.When you first started making your own characters content did you ever expect it to gain a fandom?

2. If budget was never a problem what would you see yourself making?(a game or publishing a book etc.)

3.What are looking forward to this year?

4.If you had a conversation with younger you what advice would you give yourself?

BONUS QUESTION!!

Something that makes you feel proud of yourself?

Ooooh, thank you for the questions!

I probably wouldn't have done it if I didn't at least have a hunch, but that's why Alphonse was very Guzma adjacent in terms of the voice and the bad boy vibes. It was a safe way to try it out and find an audience I knew would at least test the waters out with him. What I didn't expect was for it to lead to whole narratives being woven between multiple characters. I used to actively argue that no one (aside from Seth/Alphonse) were in the same "universe". Funny how that worked out.

I would make Love and Deepspace. I mean, it is essentially the end game for the whole audio/visual otome self insert etc etc genre, right? It has cracked the code. I would basically create that. I know there are a dozen other cool things I could do, but I know for a fact that it's a working business model in a space I am in, in a space I have successfully written for and achieved plenty in. I would like a slice of that pie. The rest is stuff I could do on my own time and dime. Anyway, any game devs looking to get to work, let's go. lol

I don't have a ton of big This Year plans, but I think I am most looking forward to operating with my new outlook regarding my projects. For years I had told myself everything needed to be done prior to release, and put all this pressure on myself to make these BIG things in one go......then didn't even start on them. It clearly wasn't working. Now that I've shifted my plans to just doing things as they come, stuff is happening again. Wish I would have realized that sooner.

I would tell myself that I have ADHD and need to go get treated ASAP by any means necessary. If I could have taken the training weights off a decade ago, I think I would have avoided a lot of grief, and really kickstarted my life. Other than that I don't think I would offer much else, I like how I got here. Or maybe invest in Bitcoin, but that's too easy. lmfao

As for being proud of myself, that's hard to say today. I've fallen off the wagon with my schedule, diet, gym, etc through the holidays and til now. I self imposed a "everything stops until BSDC is done" which is an actual insane thing to do, but I think it's more of an excuse to have remained static than an actual block. It has been built up to this whole big ass thing that I did not really intend for it to be at first, but then it just kept going and going. So I've kinda fucked up all the shit I was proud about through 2024.

Uh. So. I guess I'm proud of...self awareness? lol

I am proud of some of my recent work. That's something I'm proud of, but it doesn't quite compare to how proud I was about the other shit. At this point I know I can cook, the content is good, the performance is good. I'm used to being decent at that now, which is cool because growth is watching the new, shiny things you accomplish become the norm. So I've just gotta get back on track with all the rest of my shit and balance things out in my life.

[demigod-shenanigans]

What are your Nyssa Barrera hcs? She is my favourite side character and there is virtually no fan content of her.

Also, what is your favourite side character?

Collection of Nyssa hcs (sorry this got angstier than I originally intended):

-I’ve seen some people say sword lesbian and I agree with that so much actually. Also she’s terrible at getting the hint when girls actually try to hit on her.

-I feel like Nyssa is a year-rounder by choice rather than strictly by necessity. She was a temporary resident until the end of the Titan war, but when Beckendorf died and Jake got promoted, she knew Jake wasn’t up for the task and someone else would have to be emotional support for their younger siblings. She’s almost as old as Jake and has been his second in command since day one.

-I don’t know how close she and Charles were, but I feel like at the very least she looked up to him a ton, and his death was pretty hard on her.

-She never wanted to be a hero but she will do what’s necessary to protect her siblings. Felt relieved when Leo volunteered to join Jason instead but definitely felt guilty about that relief later on.

-Harley immediately attached himself to Nyssa the second he got to camp and she’s got the softest spot for him. She’ll let him get away with damn near anything (looking at ToA where she’s actively supportive of his little death race that involves chainsaw frisbees LOL)

-She misses her mortal dad so much, but she tells herself her family is safer with her at camp to make things a little easier for herself. Her dad insists on sending her postcards all the time, since phone calls aren’t safe. She keeps every single one of them.

-She’s got a younger half-sibling back home that Leo reminds her of, which is part of why she struggles with laughing at his jokes (aside from the general “stressed about being in charge when every single thing we do goes wrong”-thing)

-She has a lot of feelings about Leo sacrificing himself at the end of the Gaia conflict. She’s already lost one brother that way in the last war, and having it happen again but getting a front row seat this time was hell for her. She also spent months thinking about how to break it to Harley that Leo wasn’t coming back because she was convinced he was dead. So, yeah, when he does come back she inevitably curses at him for a while and doesn’t really know how to deal with any of it. She loves him to death and she’s glad he’s okay but things are just kind of a lot.

Hmmm favorite side characters… so I’m not exactly sure what we’re counting Reyna as since technically she’s a POV character in Blood of Olympus but she’s also definitely more minor than the rest of the seven? So if she counts as a side character it’s definitely her

If she doesn’t count it’s probably Harley. Chaotic gremlin child and it’s just really sweet to me how much he looks up to Leo

[simplyreveries]

hewwoooo i was the anon who requested the trey + vil with plus-sized reader :3 i really love your writing!!!! so expect me to come back here pretty often :D you can call me 🫀 anon from now on hehe (and also expect all my requests to be platonic except for trey oop)

im here for another request !! may i request the shroud brothers, vil, leona and trey with an ignihyde!reader ?? my self-insert is actually an ignihyde student based on the fates so i cant really insert myself into twst x readers with yuu!reader lol. no pressure tho <3

here ya go!! I'm super happy you liked my other one, I apologize for this one's wait i got busy!<3

idia shroud

it’ll take a while for the two of you to become any sorts of close. i can imagine your meetings (even though he's your own DORM LEADER lmao) will be brief and vague, sometimes seemingly halfhearted when he is forced to tell his dorm something, to which he usually just messages.

you’ll find him lurking and leaving his room in the late hours to get something or go the sam's mystery shop if it's still open for instant food or stuff of that sorts. nevertheless, you still are an ignihyde student so you two do seem to get along pretty well. even in those short moments— he finds himself being okay around you.

i guess you could say he is relieved you're one of the few people who won't make idia feel utterly awkward or uncomfortable running into so that's definitely some sort of a relief for him. in fact, that usually entails you two ending up hanging out together or doing something stupidly fun together.

ortho shroud

aside from idia he actually did make an effort to get to know you in the first place and in his attempts to get idia out more, suggested you guys hang out at times! he’d claim and tell idia how interesting of a person you were— plenty of stories as someone who even has been or lived in their homelands, the shaftlands!! he wants to see everyone in the dorm get along well. so, you may see him actively trying to get you and idia to be friends as well haha

im sure you two did become unlikely friends though it's inevitable, especially with ortho. he is happy to see his brother get along with you, its very common soon enough that you guys commonly hang out together.

ortho is very sweet whenever you pass him by in the dorm or in school always saying "hello" or asking how you're feeling. he's happy to be able to get along with others in his dorm.

vil schoenheit

he's curious about you quite a bit considering he knows how the reputation of ignihyde students are well…. very reclusive and don't really interact much with others and other dorms. he has worked with ignihyde students in the past with favors and needing stuff for his film making club (like the magical wheel he needed for epel once) which usually makes him prompt to coming towards you a lot to inquire and get any tech and gadgets that could be used for films they're making… even if you may not be the most outgoing person, he’ll surprisingly feel quite easy to talk to.

if you tend to take on the habits of your fellow dormmates or your dorm leader, he will once in a while tell you to make sure you're taking care of yourself and make sure you're doing things like self-care or sleeping right. it's nothing harsh or anything but it's a small way he looks out for you as he gets closer to you throughout time.

you're like a favored student of his from that dorm, he has grown to be pretty fond of. you've piqued his interest enough and helped him out too that he does seem kinder to you in ways.

leona kingscholar

originally, he really had no interested talking to or frankly being around any of that dorm. besides like idia during dorm leader meetings, he barely even knew anyone there despite it being at least his 4th year in that school. he still finds it, unusual and even strange that you've become rather close to him (even if that may feel one sided but it's just leona ok)

he does tend to feel more content and okay with you if you’re more on the quieter side anyway. he does grow a small sense of fondness to you— he even finds himself slightly surprised as your the last person he expected to garner his attention. but nevertheless, you found yourself nicely close to him even if he doesn’t show it the best.

leona sometimes makes quips or teases about your own dorm, how considerably different the two may be. especially a lot at first before you two grew closer, he just found it strange almost, to find yourself close to him.

trey clover

its funny because besides like ortho or idia and maybe a few various students of that dorm here and there in the school— ever so introverted and quiet he doesn't see that many of your dorm. even cater himself admits he doesn't seem to really know or have any friends from that dorm and he's cater! trey will muse he’s beaten cater at that by dating one.

you may have to get used to his dorm being pretty social, considering all the events they hold whereas you’re probably used to the cold and quiet ignihyde dorms. you may have to even adjust whenever you decide to come over and see trey, especially with people like cater or ace who are heavily social.

he hopes you’ll grow and find yourself comfortable there, you’ll find him laughing bashfully when pointing out their antics in comparison to the dormmates you're used to. you'll find him chuckling asking how you manage to put up with some of them, he can only imagine how different it must be for you.

[ppoliwrath]

Concept art wip, very bare bones but it’s ok 😔 this post is also a lore post for my au! It’s all jumbled up bc I was talking to a friend about it so it’s literally just copy and pasted

Edit: I didn’t realize how unreadable it was omg sorry, I edited it to make more sense

Amulet AU ideas

- Trellis is 23 yrs old just two years older then Emily

- He is kinda timid with being a king since he doesn’t want to be like his father but he has his brother as his right hand man and ofc Emily ✨ he’s alittle annoyed that there’s so much paperwork that involves being a king lol

- As he grew up he had more of his fathers facial structure much to his dismay making him become even more scared of being like his father

- But so far he’s doing well and even having an amazing king voice ( think commanding and not taking any questions abt his choices )

- Riva and Emily become good friends later on and basically trauma bond

- Luger is happy to assist with his brother with anything but is mostly seen in the library either writing or reading books

- Navin and Karen live in a newly rebuilt palace with Emily and trellis and are trying to fit in now that this is basically their forever home

- Some elves aren’t happy with Trellis’s ruling but they are often shut down by other residents/elves as this was the first time they had peace in years

- Loyalists / nobles, were the ones who profited off of the old Kings rule, Ikol had given them a lot of leniency for taxes and for whatever illegal activity they were up to

- As long as they didn’t look too closely at his illusion of the elf king being alive he was content

- as long as they bicker and mutter to themselves Trellis doesn’t care about the slander they throw his way

- But he is keeping an eye on them courtesy of Leon

- Leon acts as a chief of security / intelligence

- Often Emily will confide to him whatever she has on her mind or to vent since she sees him as a father figure / mentor

- Virgo is kinda in the shadows not exactly a hermit but quite close, he doesn’t like company aside from Navin, Emily, Miskit, Cosgly and Trellis

- He will sometimes help people who have their own stones to control them and keep their sanity

- But he just prefers his own solitude

- Every stone keeper in this au has their amulets symbol on their back, depending if their amulet has an elemental power it will be engraved onto their back ( example: Emily has burn scars )

- Emily and Trellis each have each others amulet symbols on their hands ( Emily’s left and Trellis’s right )