#Gentle Formula Body Care

[yousuf007]

Beauty is power; a smile is its sword

SEE HOW TO INCREASE YOUR BEAUTY FAST

[nayziiz]

Comfort Person | LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (she/her)

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

Attending the McLaren gala marked a significant step forward in their relationship. For a whole year, they had carefully cultivated their love away from the prying eyes of the public, choosing to keep their affection shielded from the spotlight. Their social media presence, though scant, hinted at a deeper connection, evident through the occasional birthday mentions and celebratory nods to his triumphs on the racetrack.

But this gala was different. It was a statement, a declaration of their commitment, and a subtle unveiling of their love to the world. While their relationship had been an open secret among close friends and those within the inner circle of the Formula 1 world, this event would bring it to a broader audience.

For her, agreeing to attend the gala was both exciting and nerve-wracking. Stepping into the glamorous world of Formula 1, filled with its high-profile personalities and dazzling events, was a departure from her usual realm. She had only dipped her toes into this world on three occasions, each time experiencing the thrill of the races in Monaco, Belgium, and Silverstone. Yet, despite her limited exposure to the paddock, she found herself drawn to the adrenaline-fueled atmosphere and the magnetic pull of his passion for the sport.

Her demanding career imposed limitations on her ability to accompany him to every race and event, forcing her to carefully select which ones she could attend. Despite the constraints of her professional obligations, she was determined to be there for him in whatever capacity she could manage.

For him, her unwavering support transcended physical presence. Knowing that she would wake up in the early hours of the morning or stay up late into the night to watch his races brought him immense comfort and strength. Her dedication, even from afar, served as a source of motivation during the most gruelling moments on the track.

In the midst of the frenetic pace of the Formula 1 season, her steadfast encouragement provided him with a sense of grounding and reassurance. Whether she was cheering him on from the stands or sending him words of encouragement through late-night texts, her presence loomed large in his heart and mind.

Their relationship was built on a foundation of understanding and compromise, with each of them making sacrifices to support the other's dreams and aspirations. While her absence at certain events weighed heavily on her, she took solace in the knowledge that her love and support transcended geographical boundaries.

The day was a canvas of intimacy, each moment painted with tenderness and shared anticipation. As they lingered in her apartment, the world outside faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of them enveloped in a cocoon of affection.

Showering together was a dance of intimacy, the warm water cascading over their bodies like a gentle caress. He tenderly washed her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp with care and devotion. In that shared moment of vulnerability, their connection deepened, each touch speaking volumes of their love for one another.

As she dried her hair, she watched him with a soft smile as he meticulously shaved away the stray stubble, his concentration mirrored in the steady strokes of his razor. Even the simplest of tasks became moments to be savoured in each other's presence, the ordinary transformed into something extraordinary by the power of their love.

For him, the mundane rituals of getting ready took on new significance with her by his side. Every glance exchanged, every shared laugh, was a reminder of the profound joy he felt in having her as his partner. Her presence infused even the simplest moments with an electric energy, sparking excitement in his heart and a smile on his lips.

As he stood poised with the razor in hand, ready to rid himself of the faint traces of stubble that adorned his face, she intervened, her voice soft but determined.

“No, leave it. It looks hot, my love,” she said, her gaze lingering on him with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. He paused, caught off guard by her unexpected request.

“But I thought you hated facial hair,” he replied, a hint of confusion tingling his words. A playful smile curved her lips as she stepped closer, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. 

“I've grown to love it because it's on you,” she confessed, her eyes sparkling with affection. He couldn't help but chuckle at her response, his heart swelling with warmth at her words.

“You're special, you know that,” he murmured, his voice laced with genuine admiration.

“Uh, huh. That's why you keep me around,” A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she teased him. He pulled her into his arms, unable to resist the urge to shower her with kisses. 

Lando couldn't help but chuckle as he left her in the bathroom to put the finishing touches on her makeup. With a playful grin, he made his way to the kitchen to retrieve some snacks before the event.

After a few minutes, he heard the soft tapping of her heels against the hardwood floors, signalling her emergence from the bedroom. He turned, almost instinctively, his curiosity piqued by the sound of her approach.

His breath caught in his throat as she sauntered past him, the fabric of her dark orange dress flowing around her like molten lava, casting a mesmerising glow in the dim light of the apartment. She looked radiant, her beauty captivating him in a way that never failed to leave him breathless.

As she disappeared into the kitchen, he couldn't tear his gaze away, his jaw dropping slightly in awe. She was stunning, more breathtaking than he had ever seen her before.

When she finally turned to face him, their eyes locked in an unspoken exchange of admiration and affection. In that moment, words seemed unnecessary as the intensity of their connection spoke volumes, filling the space between them with an electric energy that crackled with anticipation.

“Are you just going to sit there and gawk at me?” She asked, her tone light but teasing.

“Yes,” he replied without missing a beat, his gaze lingering on her with unapologetic admiration. A mock scowl crossed her features as she shook her head, a hint of laughter dancing in her eyes.

“Well, stop it. You look stupid. Go put on your suit before we're late,” she instructed, her voice tinged with playful admonishment.

After dutifully adhering to her request and donning his suit, Lando returned to the kitchen to find her engrossed in replying to a few messages. With a tender smile, he approached her from behind, his footsteps silent against the floor.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pressed a gentle kiss to her neck, the warmth of his lips sending a shiver down her spine. She leaned back into his embrace, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she tilted her head to the side, allowing him better access.

In that moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them cocooned in a bubble of affection. His touch was a soothing balm against the chaos of the day, grounding her in the present and reminding her of the love they shared. As he lingered against her, his arms holding her close, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. In his embrace, she found solace and reassurance

“I can't wait to do this with you for the rest of my life,” Lando whispered, his voice filled with sincerity as he gazed into her eyes. A soft smile graced her lips as she met his gaze, her heart swelling with love for him.

“Me too,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper but resounding with a depth of emotion that echoed his own.

In that fleeting moment, the weight of their words hung in the air, binding them together in a promise of forever. It was a declaration of their love, a pledge to stand by each other through every twist and turn that life may bring.

[coichii]

22:43 - HYUNJIN

pairing - nerd!bf!hyunjin ♥︎ fem!reader

genre: angst, comfort & college AU

word count: 0.7k

warnings: negative self talk & swearing like once

A/N : this is very self indulgent bc 2 weeks in and math is already eating my ass ! also I’m sorry if this sounds rushed 🙏🏾 like I said math is beating me rn

“Ok, then after that you carry the x and combine the common factors.” He says, but to be honest, it all sounds like gibberish to you.

Math is the hardest subject to master in your eyes. All those formulas and variables go in one ear and out the other.

Hyunjin, being the incredibly smart and sweet boyfriend he is, kindly offered to help you. Of course you gladly accepted his help, but it would be a lie say you weren’t 5 seconds away from crying.

You groan, throwing your head down on your hands. You couldn’t understand a thing. The feeling of inferiority and stupidity were wracking your brain.

“Im so stupid, why can’t I understand this.” and more self deprecating thoughts were going through your mind. You hadn’t even realized that you had started crying, or that hyunjin was trying to get your attention.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?!” You hear his voice cut through your thoughts. He looks at you, obviously panicked from your sudden outburst. “I- I don’t know, i’m just s-so-“ You can't finish before a fresh set of tears and choked sobs are coming from your body.

Immediately he’s moving to hold you in his arms, stroking your lower back as you continue to cry. Quiet praises and hushes come out of his mouth, small kisses being placed to either side of your face.

It takes you a while to get yourself together again, choked sobs turning into small hiccups. You look up at hyunjin, a small, warm smile plastered on his lips.

“Can you tell me what happened, my love?” His voice sounds gentle, slighting healing the current tears in your heart. “I don’t k-know i think I got a little frustrated” You lie. You didn’t want to tell everything about how you were feeling to him.

It’s not that you didn’t trust him, you just didn’t want to be so vulnerable. However, he obviously caught this.

“You’re more than a little frustrated. Tell me what’s wrong so I can help you baby, that’s all I want to do for you.” The way he says it and looks, has all your walls opening immediately.

“I’ve just been so stressed. I can’t keep up hyune i can’t. I can’t stop myself from comparing me to my classmates. They’re so much better than i am. They don’t cry under the littlest bit of pressure, and they certainly aren’t crying over fucking calculous. I just.. don’t know what to do anymore.” You trail off at the end, heat rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment, even more so from his lack of response. You’re about to apologize for ranting before his voice cuts yours off.

“Oh Y/n, i wish you could see your self through my eyes.” He starts, eyes warm. “You really don’t know how absolutely intelligent you are. You got into this amazing school, your writing is so beautiful it brings me to tears, the way you explain your work is so incredible, and so much more. You are the smartest person I know baby, don’t compare yourself to anyone else you hear me. Not understanding something doesn’t and will never ever make you dumb.”

All you can do is hug and kiss him. The thoughts of inferiority don’t disappear, but they are definitely drowned out by the love of your life’s words.

You pull away, flashing him a bright smile, which he gladly reciprocates. “Now, why don’t you say we take a break and watch some spirited away, hmm?”

“But love, we still have all this left to finish.” You frown. You don’t want to pull him away from his own work just for you. “It’s okay, I honestly think I could use the break too.”

You sigh as you agree, his puppy eyes he starting staring at you becoming to much to handle.

As you get up, packing away your belongings, you can’t help but to think just how lucky you got to have a boyfriend as smart, loving, and caring as him.

back to masterlist…

[lecsainz]

remind me

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: childhood friends, adorable young charles, lorenzo and arthur being such 'wonderful' brothers.

authors note: i listened charles' new song and oh my god, it's PERFECT! i absolutely loved writing this, especially because the leclerc family appears in it and i mentioned the lyrics from 'those eyes'

word count: 1.2K

Charles and Y/N had met when they were children, as their parents were good friends. They would often play together at family gatherings and quickly became close friends.

One day, as they were playing in the backyard, Charles and Y/N sat down on a swing set to catch their breath. Charles turned to Y/N with a shy smile and asked, "Mon petit chou* do you want to be my girlfriend?" Y/N giggled and nodded, and from that day on, they were inseparable. *my little cabbage

Even though they were just children, Charles' brothers Arthur and Lorenzo would tease him about his crush on Y/N. But Charles didn't care, he knew that he had found someone special in Y/N and he would do anything to make her happy.

Years had passed since their childhood and one night, they found themselves lost in a crowd, laughing and he had just returned from a formula 2 race so they having the time of their lives. Despite the exhaustion and stress from the competition, being with Y/N made everything feel right. 

Y/N looked up at Charles and gave him a smile that made his heart skip a beat. her. "I missed you," she said, leaning into him.

Charles pulled her in close, his hand resting on the small of her back. "Me too," he replied, his voice filled with emotion and wrapping his arms around her. "You always make everything better mon petit chou." he whispered, using the french endearment he often called her.

Y/N blushed, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "You always know how to make me feel special," she said softly.

Charles leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. "It's easy when it comes to you," he whispered. 

As the night wore on, they found themselves getting lost in the music and the moment. When they finally made their way back to Charles' apartment, they collapsed onto the bed, their bodies intertwined.

Y/N looked up at Charles, her eyes filled with love. "I'm so lucky to have you," she whispered.

Charles kissed her forehead. "No, I'm the lucky one," he said. "Tu es la lumière de ma vie*." he whispered, using one of his favorite romantic French phrases to express his love for her. *you are the light of my life

Over time, Charles and Y/N became even more connected, their love growing stronger with each passing day. Even in the small moments, they found joy in each other's company.

Whether they were sharing a meal, taking a walk, or simply holding hands, they knew that they had something special. And even when they were apart, they always found a way to stay close.

"I miss you," Y/N would say when they were apart.

"I miss you too, mon amour." Charles would reply. "But all I have to do is close my eyes and I can see your smile."

And in those small moments, they were reminded of why they had fallen in love in the first place. All of the small things that they did for each other were what made their love so strong.

As they lay in couch together, Charles looked at Y/N with adoration in his eyes. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," he said.

Y/N smiled, her heart overflowing with love. "And you're the best thing that's ever happened to me," she replied.

Charles grinned back at her, taking her hand in his. "I still can't believe we met when we were just kids. Do you remember when we were kids and I asked you to be my girlfriend?" Charles asked with a smile, looking at Y/N.

Y/N chuckled and rolled her eyes playfully. "Of course I remember, Char. You were so shy and nervous, it was adorable."

"I was not!" Charles protested, grinning.

Y/N laughed, remembering how shy and awkward they had been around each other at first. "Yeah, we were quite the pair of dorks, weren't we?"

Charles chuckled, "Speak for yourself. I was a suave seven-year-old."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, "Right, and I was a sophisticated six-year-old."

They both laughed, reminiscing about their childhood memories. It was then that Arthur and Lorenzo, Charles' younger and older brothers, burst into the room.

"Hey guys!" Arthur exclaimed, running up to give his brother a hug.

Lorenzo smiled at Y/N. "Nice to see you again, Y/N."

Y/N returned the smile. "Nice to see you too, Lorenzo. How have you been?"

"Can't complain," he replied, taking a seat next to them. "So, what are you guys up to?"

Charles shrugged. "Just talking about old times."

Arthur perked up. "Oh, I love those stories! Do you guys remember the time when we-"

"Lunch is ready!" Pascale's voice interrupted from the kitchen.

Y/N stood up. "I'll help you set the table, Pascale."

As they walked towards the kitchen, Pascale smiled warmly. "You know, Charles was always talking about you even before you two started dating. He couldn't stop talking about this wonderful girl he had met."

Charles chuckled. "I couldn't help it. I was so smitten with her."

Y/N looked at him lovingly. "And I was smitten with you too."

Lorenzo rolled his eyes playfully. "You two are so mushy."

Arthur grinned. "Yeah, can we talk about something else now? Like how Charles almost crashed during that one race?"

Charles groaned. "Thanks for bringing that up, Arthur."

Everyone laughed, enjoying the lighthearted moment together. As the laughter died down, Y/N took a moment to soak in the love and warmth of Charles' family. She felt grateful to have been welcomed into their home with open arms. "Y/N," Lorenzo spoke up again. "Do you remember that time when Charles was trying to impress you on the go-kart track and it was your first time driving one? He was pushing you so hard that he ended up crashing into you and freaking out."

Y/N laughed at the memory. "Oh my god, yes! I remember thinking 'is Charles trying to kill me?' But then he was so apologetic and worried that I couldn't even be mad at him."

Arthur chimed in, "I remember Charles coming back to us after the accident, freaking out and asking 'is she okay? Is she hurt?' And we was like, 'she's fine, you're the one who needs a hug right now'." Y/N and Lorenzo burst out laughing.

Charles rolled his eyes, but a small smile played on his lips. "I was trying to impress you, okay? I guess I failed miserably."

"Not miserably," Y/N said, reaching for his hand. "It was cute."

They shared a sweet moment, lost in their own little world while the Leclerc family watched on with fondness. 

Charles smiled at her and squeezed her hand. "You think so?" he asked, his eyes shining with happiness.

Y/N nodded. "Definitely. It showed how much you care about me."

"I do care about you, ma belle" Charles said earnestly. "More than anything in the world."

Y/N's heart swelled with emotion at his words. She knew she felt the same way about him. And in that moment, they knew that they would always be there for each other, through the good times and the bad. Because all of the small things that they did for each other were what reminded them why they had fallen in love in the first place.

[takotakigum]

moments — itoshi sae.

characters: itoshi sae x gn!reader

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationships, and parent!reader&sae.

word count: 600

synopsis: one little thing your husband, itoshi sae, does in the mornings for you and your little one.

aged up characters | please read at your own risk!

the moment he’s woken up by his alarm, he’s sure to be the one to tend to your baby in the morning. no buts, it’s all on him.

“i can do it…go sleep more, handsome.” you always mumble so incoherently to the fabric of his shirt, blocking your ears sluggishly from the ringing. when sae doesn’t budge, you only say: “i said, i’ll go to…” but your voice tapers off, quiet as the wind idling in the night streets. it’s gotten to the point where sae would immediately understand the same thing you mutter verbatim.

you refuse to let go of his body when he really has to start the day, though. whenever you cling onto his abdomen, begging him not to leave the bed, he sighs and kisses the top of your head to ease your morning complaints—which usually works. because after a few moments, you’re back to sleep, with arms loosely wrapped around him. gently, sae replaces his figure with a nearby pillow for his absence, and you don’t notice a thing.

then, sae is quick to move to your baby’s nursery room.

gently, he wakes your baby up, muttering the softest “good morning” to them as he rubs their back. once your baby starts to stir from their sleep, they refuse to look at sae, turning their head away from him while trying to sleep once more. it’s cute, it really is—because sae always gets reminded of you.

reluctantly for the baby, sae picks them up. their droopy eyes and heavy head loses it’s balance and lands straight to sae’s shoulder. for the meantime, it’s fine, sae would let your kid sleep once more while he prepares their morning bottle of milk. and always, always after the bottle has been warmed up just right, your baby suddenly awakens and makes grabby hands for the nursing bottle.

as your baby feeds on the bottle, their puffed, rosy cheeks become unbearable for sae not to kiss. so, he kisses it. one time seems perfect enough for your husband, because it’s not a quick peck, no—it’s actually those obnoxiously loud ones that either leave babies with a furrowed brow or a giggling mess. perhaps luckily for sae, your baby just blinks at him, mind and body too engrossed with the formula they’re drinking.

by the time your baby is done with the bottle, sae wipes off any excess milk on the corners of their mouth with a wet wipe, change their clothes, and diapers into something new and fresh.

why?

so that the moment he’s back with your baby in the master bedroom, you’ll be delighted the little one has already been taken care of. “hi, baby.” you whisper, poking at your kid’s cheek as sae sits down on the bed, resting his back on the headboard with your baby in his arms. “hello.” he whispers back, and you almost spring out of the mattress to laugh at his antics. “not really you, but good morning, handsome.” you smile, eyes are closed yet emits a stare of pure adoration.

“thank you.” you say in a hushed voice, noticing your baby falling asleep once again which always leaves sae sighing. “i’m not letting you do all the hard work, you know?” sae intertwines his fingers with yours, pulling your figure closer to him. “mn. of course i know. that’s why i said thanks.” sae gives you the same overly soft smile he always gives to your baby in the morning, but this time, his eyes crinkle just right, all from smiling at you.

and so, itoshi sae’s morning always starts of wonderful, it knits a gentle blanket surrounding his heart with such a warmth he’s never felt before. simple acts of kindness, in the itoshi’s now household, is worth something beyond the stars could stretch out and discover. which also means he’ll get extra love and affection from you—as if you don’t give him more than the limits could ever reach—and ultimately, spend time with you and his little one, too.

© takotakigum | do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works.

[lnlightning81]

Promise [AA23]

Summary : Your first race leaves you with a lot of anxiety but thankfully Alex knows how to fix that. He also has a little surprise

Pairing/s: Alexander Albon x Reader, Logan Sargeant x Reader (Platonic + brief)

Warning/s: Anxiety

Word Count : 1.2k

Masterlist

Alexander Albon Masterlist

Taglist

Heading to your first ever Formula One race was not on the agenda for the day. You were actually planning on going shopping around the city, but Alex had talked you out of that by bribing you with free food, and who couldn’t turn down free food? 

So here you were, walking through the Formula One paddock with a death grip on your boyfriend's hand. You’d always been able to travel with Alex because you worked from home during race season, which meant you could travel whenever you wanted. However, you always stayed in the hotel room doing exactly that, sometimes going out shopping when Alex forced his card upon you, saying that you needed to be spoiled. 

“Darling” Alex stopped walking, turning to look at you, and you looked up at him. Alex grabbed your other hand, holding it gently as his thumb rubbed gentle circles on the back of it 

“Hmm?” You asked only now just paying attention to whatever he was saying while he was walking

“You’re squeezing my hand a lot, darling. What's wrong?” He asked, tilting his head to the side 

“I’m just really nervous. You care about all these people and this is your work and there’s so many people here” You whispered and he nodded wrapping his arm around you pulling you closer to his body as we started walking again.

“You’re shaking love” He frowned as you walked into the Williams garage with him. It was a lot less scary being inside the garage knowing that the mechanics were far too busy working on the car, other team members being too busy as well and Logan well he wasn’t so bad to be around. 

Alex took you to his driver's room sitting you down on the massage table grabbing one of his half zips and pulling it over your head so it covered your body before grabbing a blanket that was kept on his couch and wrapping it around your body pulling you back into his arms. Your head rested on his chest as you listened to his heartbeat. 

“Just relax, darling. No one will come in here that you don’t already know. Okay?” He asked as you gently nodded against his chest. Gently rubbing your back as the door quietly opened, looking over, you spotted Logan. Giving him a small smile 

“Oh hey Y/N” He hummed 

“Hi Logan” you whispered as he sat on Alex’s couch, looking over at him. You frowned 

“He always comes in before a race” Alex explained, and you nodded 

“Okay” You nodded, pulling back and pulling your legs onto the table, turning to look at Logan, who was sitting behind you. Alex wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you back into his chest. 

“Damn thought I’d got away from couples” Logan joked, and you smiled a little 

“I’ve got a friend” You shrugged

“I’m okay being single thanks though” You chuckled, looking up at Alex, who pressed a kiss to your lips. 

“Never been to a race before?” Logan asked, and you shook your head 

“What gives that away?” You asked, and he smiled 

“I don’t know, maybe the blanket and the fact Alex won’t let go?” You chuckled with a smile 

“He’s keeping me warm, so I can’t complain” You shrugged, and Alex tightened his grip around you 

“You didn’t say you were cold” He frowned, and you shrugged 

“I wasn’t exactly cold, but you’re keeping me extra warm” You smiled up at him, and he smiled softly. Logan took a couple of pictures of the two of you being so caught up in your love. 

“I can’t believe I convinced you to come” He whispered, and you smiled 

“I won’t be back for a while. It’s terrifying, and I like watching it in the hotel with the lovely view” Alex laughed, pressing a kiss to your head as Logan snuck out of the room as his trainer texted him. 

“Did you bring anything to go on holiday with?” Alex asked, and you shook your head 

“Baby we drove a couple hours from the house. I didn’t pack anything for a holiday” you hummed, and he shook his head 

“Maybe we should go shopping after the race then?” He asked, and you frowned 

“What why?” You asked confused, turning to look at him properly 

“To go on a nice holiday? This is the last race where I have a whole week off after it” He explained, and you nodded, looking up at him 

“We could. Or we could find a little log cabin in the middle of nowhere here in England, maybe with a little hot tub and just enjoy that?” You suggested, and he nodded 

“If you want to. It’s nice weather” He shrugged, and you smiled, wrapping your arms around him and the blanket at the same time 

“Yes please can we please?” You begged, and he nodded 

“I can’t say no to that look, can I?” He smiled poking your cheeks as you smiled up at him 

“See this is why I love you” you hummed, kissing him 

“And why would that be?” He asked, looking down at you 

“You always listen to my suggestions, you care about how I’m feeling, you know how I’m feeling without me actually saying it out loud and you’re just a loveable person” You explained and he looked down at you with so much love you thought you might actually explode 

“Oh fuck it” He muttered grabbing his bag and pulling out a little black box 

“I was gonna wait until we went away on holiday, but I can’t wait, not when I’ve finally got you at a race and you’re right in front of me” You frowned, watching him 

“Y/N I love you so much, and I’m not proposing just yet, so don’t worry about that” You chuckled, looking up at him 

“Good cause I want to get pictures of that, not in a motorhome” you joked 

“Anyway we can come back to your proposal plans. I love you so much Y/N and I know you hate using my card to buy things or just buying things for yourself in general because that’s not your kind of thing but I saw this in like three different baskets of yours on like three different websites so I decided to actually buy you it” Alex handed you the small box and you opened it up to see the ring you had been thinking about buying

The ring was one that could be personalised and with how long you and Alex had been together you wanted to get it with your birthstones and maybe your initials and you had been looking at many different websites just trying to find the cheapest and best looking one. 

Opening the box up fully, you could feel the tears fill your eyes. Alex didn’t have to do this, but the fact that he actually did was so sweet. Taking the ring out of the box, Alex carefully took your hand and slid the ring onto your ring finger 

“It’s not a proposal yet, but this is a promise ring so that it’s always with you while I’m racing. A promise that no matter how bad the crash is or how far apart we actually are I will always come home to you because it’s you I want to spend the rest of my life with” He explained gently wiping your tears away. 

It was him. It will always be him.

Taglist

@bearryyy

@lozzamen3

@barcelonaloverf1life

@hiireadstuff

@evie-119

[37sommz-archive]

✼. MOTHER, MAY I | 2019.

CH. 06. NOW PLAYING: stfu! by rina sawayama [fluff, lil angsty]. ✼.⠀summary: michaela and lewis have a chat, 1.5k. ✼.⠀view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

✼.⠀NOVEMBER 02, 2019 — austin, usa

If the pounding in Michaela’s head told her anything, it was probably that Austin had been a dizzying show of form. Though she was slated to start sixth in Sunday’s race, Michaela found herself begging the racing gods for mercy. 

The Austin wind paired with the fantastic glimmer of shuttering cameras, had left her struggling to keep her happy smile plastered to her face. Those who noticed the absence of her familiar joyfulness were loud about their observations. She had been put on blast all weekend by reporters, drivers, and social media alike, her thrilling qualifying performance forgotten amidst the generous flow of speculation.

Dodging questions about her personal life—one of the more helpful recommendations Sebastian had gifted her during her time as a reserve—she quickly settled on repeating the same half-assed response every time, “I’m taking a page out of Kimi’s book.” They would laugh and move on, realizing they would be wasting precious airtime attempting to get much of anything out of the Australian driver.

The tiny bit of solace she finds against the wall her blonde waves rest against is stolen in a millisecond as she hears footsteps approaching her. They are gentle yet confident, the contrast perfectly matching the driver to whom they belong. Slowly releasing a sigh of mild grief before beginning to straighten her form, any conscious thoughts are pulled from her mind once she matches the footsteps to the driver. With his hair tucked underneath his Mercedes cap, braids carefully pulled into a signature ponytail, finding Lewis Hamilton smiling down at her practically shakes any aches from Michaela’s system.

“Easy,” he laughs, the sound as relaxed as it was worried. His eyebrows dip as he frowns at the state of the 19-year-old sat below him. Pulling a stray chair to sit beside her, he recovers his frown with a tight-lipped smile. Michaela pales in response as she suddenly finds herself shy of his attention. The two drivers had barely had any time to talk during the younger’s debut season. Though words of congratulations had been exchanged through press conferences, there had been little time for any personal chats. 

“Sorry, I’m a mess at the moment,” she rushes to explain her current condition. Waving a hand at the frantic cope, Lewis shifts his body to face Michaela head-on. 

“How has everything been for you? The team, the media, the fans?” His voice is a calming force settling over the air shared between them. It is then that Michaela takes notice, with self-admitted shock, of the clearness of his skin and the cleanliness of his parts. The famous stud adorning his left nostril seemed to catch the lights brilliantly in a way that only seemed to mock the headache they had given to her. 

Nodding slowly she responds with a practiced carefulness, “Not the easiest.” 

Lewis simply laughs at her answer. Throwing his head back as if she had told the grandest of jokes. His amusement is quickly explained with a loud, “Welcome to Formula One!” 

She chuckles at his reaction. Though it is measured and ends as soon as his does, her shoulders relax as the tension holding them up begins to ease. An air of calm falls between the two drivers as they settle into candid conversation.

“You’ve done pretty well though,” He hums as he nudges his chair ever so slightly closer to hers. Attempting to keep her cool, Michaela nearly misses the caveat of, “From what I’ve seen so far”, that he adds to the thought, a shrug added to emphasize his point of view. 

She sighs in response to the addition. The roll of her eyes, so natural with a practiced ease, draws another laugh out of Lewis. 

“I’m in an Alfa Romeo, it’d be pretty hard to make it worse than it already is.” 

The Mercedes driver moves a tattooed hand to cover his mouth in mild shock the Australian rookie could be so bold. His eyes widen with another bout of amusement, the deep chuckle he tries to suppress managing to escape against the brown of his skin. Her typically subdued nature in press conferences had surely misled him of her true personality. There in the seldom-used hallways she had managed to find in Austin, Lewis found a spark in her eyes typically hidden underneath the pink and white of her famous helmet. 

The older driver leans back to take a peak around the corner, muttering, “You never know who’s around these fuckin’ corners.” 

Clearing his throat, he moves to offer a bit of sympathy to the rookie. With eyes shifting again, this time to true poise, he levels his speech. “The first few seasons are always rough. But I think you’re one of the more capable drivers on the grid. No doubt you’ll be in a better car before long.” 

As Michaela flushes, shying away from the compliment, he attempts to wave off the show of humility. 

“I’m serious, anybody who says otherwise? Fuck ‘em.” His shoulders rise in a show of nonchalance. Hands gesturing outwards catch Michaela’s eye as they crinkle in amusement.

It is Michaela’s turn to laugh out loud. Though her amusement is more subdued to be shared between the two of them, the grace she extends to the great seated in front of her is tangible. Waves of gratitude roll off her being and surround the two of them in a blanket of understanding. 

“Can’t say that in these pressers yet,” She chuckles as her laughter subsides a few beats later. “They’d have me out on my arse by the morning.” 

Her eyes roll again, annoyance replacing the ocean of gratitude she had previously been submerged in. The shift catches Lewis’ attention as he leans back against his chair. His comfort is immediately obvious to the rookie whose cheeks redden to her embarrassment.

“Yeah, that clause in your contract? What’s that all about?” His eyebrows furrow as the slightest of wrinkles around the perimeter of his eyes crinkle just the same. His lips pull into a frown as he awaits Michaela’s response. 

“The shut up clause?” She huffs in reply. A graceful, manicured hand reaches up to massage at her temples. Her dark eyes close as she feels the weight of all the season’s pressure fall back onto her shoulders. 

“If that’s what we’re calling it.” Lewis hums. The concern remains on his face despite his gentle curiosity.

“It’s supposed to keep me ‘in line’.” Her fingers signal quotations around the phrase. “They could fine me for any statements they think unfairly scrutinize them or the FIA.” When Lewis cocks an eyebrow with a questioning tilt of his hair, Michaela offers a clarification: the ‘them’ in question being Alfa Romeo.

“Damn,” He mutters with a disapproving shake of his head. “Didn’t know they could even put that in a contract.” When Michaela doesn’t respond, her head finds its way back against the white linoleum-lined walls, and Lewis takes a breath. 

“Who negotiated that?” He inquires as his lips pull into a line.

An ironic chuckle escapes the younger driver who offers a simple response. “They wouldn’t sign me without it… had to… compromise.” The words are just barely strung together, loose and uncommitted as they hang in the air. 

“Shut up clause.” Lewis muses with a scoff. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip before he sits up in his chair. “How long’s the contract? Two years?” When Michaela only offers a nod in affirmation, Lewis’ arms cross as if communicating his disappointment through solidarity.

The silence continues to freeze the previous ease of conversation. As the rumble of the anxious press floods through the walls separating the two from the waiting craze outside of their presumed sanctuary, Lewis’ phone begins to ring. The contact name of his Press Officer appears in bolded white at the top of the screen. Both drivers release a sigh through their lips, moving to stand from their comfortable seats. Though Lewis’ fingers twitch in an effort to respond to the call, he takes a brief moment to encourage the rookie driver.

“Being the first is never easy. There’s people waiting to see you crash, literally.” The added warning draws a tight-lipped chuckle from the Australian. “Don’t give them the satisfaction of failure, yeah? Experience everything with a cool head, make them eat their words.” Michaela nods in understanding, eyes wide as she hangs on to every syllable of the British driver’s wise words.

With a final, “Keep pushing, kid. You’re the shit”, he departs from her side. His phone raises to his ear as he huffs out an excuse to the woman on the other end, a jog in his steps as he disappears down the hallway. Taking a deep breath, Michaela’s feet carry her to follow him.

✼.⠀taglist:⠀

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[sapphicmsmarvel]

cassian x reader: dating a high maintenance girlie

Hello, if this seems extra its cause it is but this is quite literally my high maintenance routine. This is just one of my favorite parts of life and I love the idea of these big burly men doing skincare with their girls. 

i’m a high maintenance girly bc i like to be. pls this isn’t a pick me bullshit type thing. Im a girls girl yall. 

-This man doesn’t know shit about self care. 

-He knows the basics but like, nothing that would genuinely make him feel comfy in his own skin even more than he already is. 

-He uses 3-in-1. Technically 4-in-1 because face wash is separate formula than body wash but you digress. 

-Y'all know that stereotype of a guy glowing up after getting a girlfriend? You guys were the blueprint for that. 

-You taught him his hair type (2A), his skin type (dry), his preferred scent profile for himself (spicy, woody, aromatic). What his favorite types of care products are, he loves leave-in conditioner, cream cleansers. He’s not a fan of super heavy moisturizers because he’ll get overstimulated.

-These are just things this man has never thought about. 

-When you two leave the house for a Court Duty, you end up doing Cassian's hair. He wants to look nice, for lots of reasons, but especially because he wants to be let back into Summer. He wants to be able to take you on Summer Court dates! 

-He lives for that sliver of time you’re able to squeeze in before going somewhere. You doing his hair, him staring at you in the mirror if you’re behind him. If you’re in front of him, his large hands on your plush hips as you bite your lip in concentration trying to make his wild hair look nice. The feeling of your fingers through his scalp and how even when there’s a knot, you never tug or pull hard enough that it hurts him. You’re gentle and sweet with him even when he thinks he doesn’t deserve it (spoiler: he always deserves it) 

-He loves how high maintenance you are, it helps him remember to take care of himself. 

-You do a little self care sunday reset type of thing. It helps you get ready for the week. 

-He finds these routines utterly fascinating. 

-He begs to watch you do them, not even in the dirty way but it's just so interesting to watch. You also banned him from getting frisky when you do the routines. This was your time, he was welcome to watch but he would step out if you asked because you needed to be alone. 

-Some days, your routines are a bit more intense, such as the monthly waxing for your legs and armpits. Coochie too. 

-He flinches every single time he watches you wax some part of you, especially the coochie. He kind of has an attachment to that part. 

-You do the whole shabang sometimes. Wax legs, armpits, etc. Exfoliating shampoo, regular shampoo, conditioning mask, conditioner. Then the body stuff, exfoliating, shaving any parts you didn’t want to wax, double cleansing your body with antibacterial then the fun scented stuff. Then when you’re out of the bath, face extractions, face wash, whatever else you want to add. And then body creams. Then you’re done. 

-He’s just amazed every single time. 

-He also loves that you make a little thing out of it. You make it fun for you. There's a whole closet filled with different scents, treatments, formulas, etc. 

-You always smell good. There are deodorants shoved in every single bag you own, every room for that matter. Massive perfume, bodycare, candle, anything that makes a room or you smell good, you have it. 

-Even going to bed, you put perfume on.

-He loves that you say “I only wear it for myself Cass, it’s just a bonus that you love it.” Because he knows it’s true. 

-Sometimes he goes in just to sniff around. The fool just stands there and sniffs stuff. You had no idea why he decided to sit in the closet and sniff things in the dark. However, you did know that when you opened the door to see a nearly 7 foot tall clown smelling your beloved collection, you screamed bloody murder. 

So loud Azriel came running with his knives. Cassian just looked at you like “what’s your deal bro?” 

You were trained by two of the most powerful warriors, yet your first reaction was to scream. 

“Why didn’t you try to fight me?” Cassian asked, “I’ve seen you kick someone down for less.” 

“I am in my bathrobe Cassian! You want me swinging my legs around with my flaps out?” 

Azriel chose to leave the room after that. 

-You also always have perfectly manicured nails. And somehow someway you taught your tricks to the Valkyries so now they are able to have beautiful nails while still disemboweling enemies. 

-Great, now he and Az have four she-devils with perfectly manicured nails and glossy hair that can slay their enemies with one swipe. The four of you were feral together. He wouldn’t be surprised if he walked into the camps one day to see some guys dead because they were sexist. 

-You also got him and Az roped into these skincare nights. 

-He loves sitting there with a face mask on and you using one of your crystal rollers rolling it onto his skin. Bougie bitch eats it up. 

-One of your favorite things to do is wear a sheet mask and hide in a closet.  Scares him every single time. 

-Your stuff is everywhere, you’d be damned if you were uncomfy in your own home. After talking to Cassian and Azriel to make sure you weren’t being a shitty roommate, you kind of went crazy. 

-Lip balms in every room, hand creams, candles. Hair ties and claw clips. Fuzzy blankets stashed in every trunk you could find. 

-Rhys made fun of it, but ate his words pretty quickly when Feyre saw the beauty of having lip balms and hair ties/claw clips stashed everywhere. (and he later found the joys of said products and gave you a gift basket as an apology….you didn’t even remember that he judged you because you simply didn’t care).

-Also, the guys live in fucking luxury. The home always smells good, they never have to worry about chapped lips or dry skin. Or pesky hair in the way. Anywhere they want is a blanket or cute pillow to prop their heads up. 

-they were living like animals until you showed up.

-Cassian having a mate is the best thing to ever happen to Az. 

-Feyre, Nesta, Elain, Emerie, Gwyn, Morrigan and even Amren shop your stash of body care if they wanna smell a certain way for a certain fun time (wink). 

-Even Nuala and Cerridwen will approach and ask you. Obviously you say yes. You own so much you’ll never get through everything in time. 

-Plus you’re a Girls Girl. You’re gonna be there for your girls in your life.

-Speaking of the ladies in your life. 

-When you and Cassian have twin baby girls, you were ecstatic. Either way you were going to be happy but you always wanted a girl and now you have two!

-Teaching them how to take care of their skin and hair has been the best for you and Cassian. He loves watching his girls play with their hair. He loves having his hair braided by them. 

-Family self care nights become a Thing (that sometimes an Uncle or Aunt will join).

-He loves you because you taught him how to actually care for himself and his mental health. You showed him how he needs to stop and appreciate the smaller things. That not everything has to be a chore. 

-He loves you more than anything, maintenance and all.

[kifflepiffles]

Milk, Flour, and Sugar.

(Pssst, @albaricomics Thank you for giving me motivation, I really enjoyed writing this <3 )

Our goobers deserve a break

Francis Mosses x Nacha Mikaelys

Content warning; Suggestive themes towards the end, but nothing actually happens

Word count; 1.9k

Edit: I forgot my tumblr posts tend to get traction ^^; this takes place in a universe that assumes a headcanon for Francis, Nacha, and Ana that I wrote in great detail. It's in my top posts, but it's a but wordy, so TL;DR for context:

- Francis and Nacha are highschool sweethearts who were kicked out of their homes once the pregnancy was discovered.

- They dropped out of school and started working. They moved into the apartments where the game takes place

- They are 17 and 18 when this fic takes place.

- Nacha has a part time job as a store clerk while taking culinary classes.

- this takes place before Francis took his milkman job. Currently, Francis works night shift at a steel factory, both because night shift pays extra so he can support himself and help Nacha, and because the alternating schedule makes it easier to have someone constantly caring for Anastacia while she's an infant

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

A soft breeze had flowed through the open kitchen window. Leaning back against the counter, Francis held this daughter in his arms, sitting her up against his shoulder and holding a glass bottle to the infant’s mouth. She had turned 7 months old about a week ago. Yet her parents still couldn’t get enough of her. The young man’s head tilted back, gazing at the ceiling he had freshly painted a white coat over so he could get a discount on rent. For the first time all day, A gentle smile cracked his stoic face,

“Fill my heart with song,” He hummed to his daughter, letting his heavy eyes softly close “And let me sing forever more,” His body gently swayed to the rhythm he set, rocking Anastacha as she drank, 

“You are all I long for … All I worship and…” Francis’s head tilted back down as his eyes fluttered open. Ana had pushed his hand away. Noticing the bottle still had some formula left, he directed it back towards her mouth. She had pushed him away again, this time with an angry yell, causing him to jump a bit. Not even a year old, and yet she was growing remnants of her independence. The young father chuckled, 

“Alright, you insist,” He hummed as he placed the bottle on the counter behind him and took his daughter into both hands. He raised her above his head, admiring his little creation. 

“You’re going to be a fiery one, Mm?  I can already feel it,” He cooed dreamily, watching his little girl babble and look around the kitchen. Though his trance had been interrupted by knocking on the door.

Francis looked in the direction of the knocking as he lowered Ana back into his arms, “Looks like Mommy’s back,” He narrated to her mindlessly as he walked over to the front door and glanced through the peephole to ensure it was her. 

The energy had shifted once Francis opened the door for his ex, stepping aside to let her in,

“Hey,” He greeted dryly, clearing his throat and fixing his posture,

“Hi,” Nacha greeted back as she stepped in. Ana leaned forward, reaching out for her mother with an exclamation, making her smile. “Hi, my baby,” she hummed. Francis leaned over to allow Nacha to take their daughter from him. “How was she today?”

“Good, we slept for about two hours, and I just fed her. She’s getting sassy,” He reported, making Nacha giggle,

 “Is she?” She asked turning to their baby, “Are you getting sassy Ana? Is Ana being sassy?” She cooed, tickling her and blowing a raspberry into her cheek, making the infant squeal with excitement and both parents laugh. A glimpse of the joyous family life they have both been promised all their young lives. But it soon faded, and it was silent once again. 

The two stood across from each other, their heads tilted down to avoid eye contact. Anxious, awkward.

“Well…” Nacha began, turning a bit to excuse herself. Another evening of potential had failed. But instead, Francis cleared his throat again and shut the door.

“Mm, How was work? …Class? Work and Class? … Uh, Could… may I  get you anything to drink?” He stuttered out. Nacha lifted her head and softly smiled, A bittersweet sting flooding her chest. 

`”It was alright, some water would be lovely,” She answered. Taking it as an invitation to stay, she timidly sat on the couch, gently bouncing Anastacha in her arm while Francis sauntered to the next room over. A sigh left Nacha’s lips before she gently set her baby down on the floor. The living room was cluttered with stuffed animals and teething toys. Their situation was unfortunate, but seeing her ex take such diligent care of their daughter sparked something back to life within her. For the first time since they were in school, her heart was fluttering. He made her feel excited and full of life. 

It was a matter of seconds for Francis to come back with a full glass for Nacha, and a mug of coffee for himself. He stopped right outside the narrow kitchen archway, allowing the infant to slowly and unsteadily crawl past him. She was still getting used to being mobile. 

“Mm, The traffic, they really should put a stop sign here,” He quipped as he set their drinks down on the coffee table, hoping he could make Nacha laugh.  He had gotten what he hoped for, the young lady began giggling, and a small flash of satisfaction illuminated the dullness within him for a moment while he sat down beside her. 

Silence, again. It was a common occurrence for the both of them. At first, it was to keep the peace. Now, it was because both of them had racing thoughts, they were on the same page but didn’t know it yet. Taking a sip from her water, Nacha cleared her throat and took a gentle breath

:”So… How’s the factory treating you? I imagine the night shift must be rough,” She asked. Francis shrugged and took a sip of his coffee,

“It’s alright,” He started, groaning as reached his arms up to stretch his shoulders, “Mmm, Tiring. but we get a good amount of downtime. Not like anyone’s up to watch us,” He concluded before leaning back and grabbing his mug from off the table. Nacha looked down at the floor and let a coy smile crack her expression,

“I suppose that’s nice,” She hummed, glancing back at him, “Are you free this weekend? I was thinking we could maybe go out somewhere,” She suggested, receiving a double take and a raised brow from Francis,

“Really?” He asked, sounding genuinely surprised before Nacha reached a hand out with wide eyes, her head shaking with embarrassment, “Uh-! For Ana, maybe we could head out to the park or something with her,” She added, making Franicis lean back and hum. She could’ve sworn she saw a hint of a gloom scowl on his face. She shook the thought and shifted in discomfort. It’s done, She thought, It’s been. We weren’t meant to be. That’s okay, She attempted to console to herself, biting back burning tears in her cheeks, threatening to make the evening even more uncomfortable than it already was

“I mean, mm, I wouldn’t… really mind spending some time with you. Especially with Anastacha. I say we do it. We can do it on Saturday maybe,” He suggested. Nacha looked back at him with a beaming smile.

“Oh, really? That’s great honey,” She gleamed. Francis glanced away with a scoff and rubbed the back of his neck. It was a slip up, he knew it was. But he couldn’t help but take it to heart.

“Uh, heh, yeah,” He started, his voice cracking with an anxious blush forming on his face, “I’m sure it will be. It’s a plan,”

feeling the discomfort radiate off of Francis made Nacha dizzy with embarrassment. This is my sign to leave. You got what you wanted, anyway. She thought, rubbing her own shoulder and clearing her throat.

“Well, I should get going,” She stated as she stood up, straightening out her skirt, “You have work soon. And… you need your sleep,” She was in a bit of a hurry to leave as she walked towards Ana, “Come here baby,” She whispered as she lifted her daughter into her arms. Francis stood up as well, nodding 

“Alright,” He stated rather flatly. Part of him didn’t want her to leave. The other part begged her to. He walked over to the door, waiting for her to follow and opening it for her as she approached. 

“... Bye Francis,” Nacha greeted hesitantly. But before she could walk out the door, Francis’s hand was on her cheek. And before she could think about it, His lips gently landed on hers. Just for a moment, just to say goodbye, it couldn't hurt. He pulled back after a moment and gazed at his ex, who’s eyes seemed to be glistening with tears.

“Oh,, Francis…” Nacha whispered. She gently placed Ana back down on the floor, letting her crawl back to her toys, and carefully pushed the door closed again. She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned back in, kissing him again. He let it happen for a few moments. Truly, he had missed her. Her skin, her smell, her passion. Everything that tempted him and got them into this mess in the first place. But he still restrained himself. He couldn’t ruin this again. Now it was more than just him and his lover. If he fucked up again, he would be screwing things up for his baby girl, too. 

“Mm,, Nacha,” He tried to interrupt. Nacha sensually sighed into his mouth. She had been starved of him, craving for months. She couldn’t handle just a taste, she needed to take a bite. “Francis…” She moaned into his mouth, letting her hand tangle into the hair that laid on his neck. He grabbed her shoulders, and pushed her back.

“Nacha!” He barked,, making his lover flinch and his baby look up. He lowered his head, already feeling remorse for snapping. 

Silence. Again, the apartment was filled with silence. Agonizing, writhing silence. 

“Nacha,” He said in a more gentle tone, his guilt lingering behind his words, “The baby, sweetpea. The baby,” Tears welled in Nacha’s eyes

“I’ll… I’ll put her in the playpen. We can go into your room instead,” She scrambled to fix, but he shook his head,

“No, honey. No. You… You should go home,” He suggested as he turned away, not wanting to see Nacha begin sniffling. A pit formed in her chest as the rejection began sinking in,

“But…” She started, but a shivering weep cut her off, “Please, Please Francis. I miss you so much, honey,” She sobbed, placing her hand on his shoulder and making him tense. His throat began to grow sore, threatening to make him join her wallowing. He shook his head again,

“I miss you too, Nacha, I do. But… I- I just can’t. I can’t do this. Not today, not now,” He tried to explain. He turned back to her, letting his hand rest on her face again. His voice was gentle, as if to console her, yet firm, as if to remind himself of what he was putting at risk.  “Another time, honey. I promise. Another time.” 

“Why… Why not?” Nacha whimpered. Francis hung his head down, “I…” He sighed, using his free hand to wipe his eyes, “I just can’t do it, okay? Please, go home, honey. Bring Ana home, and take care of yourself. Please,” 

“Okay,” Nacha whispered. She sniffled and wiped her eyes with her forearms, then nodded, “:Alright,” She said a bit louder this time, as if to assure it to herself. She gathered her baby into her arms, and returned yet again to the door. 

“Have a good day at work,” She wished, her tone flat and lifeless. Francis silently nodded, “I’ll see you later.”

The door shut behind her. And the silence was back. A heavy sigh left the young man’s chest as he plopped down on his couch. He put his hands over his eyes with a groan

“Mmm… Oh my god,” He groaned before taking a deep breath, trying to rub the stress out of his face. He laid back, letting his arms cross over his chest. He was too worked up to sleep now. He was nervous, excited, feeling sick to his stomach as he processed what went on between them. 

At least he had a day out with them planned. 

[seriouslysnape]

Patched Up

Aesop Sharp x Fem! Student! Reader

Tags: Minor injuries. 

Word Count: 2.2k

“I won’t keep you any longer.”

꩜꩜꩜꩜

He wasn’t surprised when you showed up at the classroom after curfew. 

He had gotten used to you showing up at all hours of the day. If he didn’t know you as well and personally as he did, he would’ve been under the impression that all you ever did was roam the corridors of the castle and pop in whenever you felt like it.

Sometimes your visit was just for a quick hello, other times it was for a “real” reason. He never knew what to expect whenever you came bopping in, but not that he was complaining.

He heard your footsteps from the hallway, a heads up that let him know you were about to enter. He was familiar with the sound of your steps, and he could only imagine why you were coming at such a late hour. 

Of course he knew it wasn’t Potions related at all, but he still liked to make the same joke every time you came by when the school day was over.

“Are you here for a late Potions lesson?” He didn’t even turn away from the chalkboard to look at you. “It’s a bit late for that.”

“Afraid not,” You grinned, standing in the open doorway. “Is it such a crime for a student to visit her favorite professor?”

“I suppose not. It is an occasional occurrence,” He answered. “Although, lately the random visits have been usually saved for my personal chambers.”

“That’s true,” You grinned. “I was hoping that you’d be up for consoling a broken Quidditch player.”

His anxiety kicked in then, his protective mode turning on immediately…despite your bubbly tone. He forgot about the Potions formula he had been glancing over, his head peeking around the wall that blocked you from his sight.

The sight of your dirty practice uniform and the dirt caked on parts of your face and arms were a tell-tale sign to him that you were coming from the Quidditch field. There were a few scattered scrapes on your legs, and the way that you held your posture made it clear that you were hurt somewhere else on your body.

Abandoning his prep for the next day’s Potions classes, he swiftly approached you. He was gentle as he ushered you further into the room, closing the classroom door behind him and guiding you to his desk chair.

“How did this happen exactly?” He asked.

He was careful as he assisted you in lowering yourself into the chair. Your muscles definitely needed the rest, and if your shoulder hadn’t been hurting you so much, you could’ve fallen asleep right there. 

“I had Quidditch practice tonight,” You answered. “These night practices are killing me. Quidditch is impossible to play in the dark…even with illumination charms.”

He put the pieces together without you even saying it. He was very observant when it came to you and had an impressive memory.

“Did you fall off of your broom again?” He asked, taking your chin into his hand to get a better look at your face.

“Yeah,” You replied dryly. “Bludger knocked me off.”

He made a small hum as he glanced over your features to check for any cuts or scrapes that you might’ve missed. He was relieved to see that despite being a little battered up, you were otherwise in good spirits. 

“That’s the second time this week,” He remarked. “Where is this carelessness coming from?”

“It wasn’t careless. It’s dark out and I didn’t see the Bludger,” You corrected. “And that’s just part of playing Quidditch. It happens.”

“Not to you it doesn’t. You’re the best on the team,” He said. “Where did the Bludger hit?”

He watched carefully as you brought your hand to the base of your neck, tapping the space between your collarbone and shoulder.

“Right here,” You sighed. “It didn’t start hurting until practice was over. That’s when I came here.”

“You mean that you got back on your broom after you fell?” His face contorted into an expression of disbelief.

With a careful hand, he pulled the collar of your jersey down just enough so he could see the area that made contact with the Bludger. Sure enough, there was a decent bruise well on its way to being fully developed by tomorrow morning.

“I didn’t fall very far. I was pretty close to the ground,” You shrugged. “My shoulder took most of the damage.”

“Are you certain you’re not hurt anywhere else? You didn’t get hurt when you hit the ground?” He gingerly rotated your arm to test its mobility.

“Like I said, I didn’t fall far. The school’s Quidditch field just isn’t equipped to be played on at night.” 

This was a common complaint amongst Hogwarts’ Quidditch players. Playing early in the morning and at night was just too dangerous when visibility was low. Aesop was right that this wasn’t the first time that this had happened to you in recent weeks. There had been several close calls, but only twice had you actually hit the ground after falling off. You were just lucky that your body had taken both hits instead of your head. 

“Then why do you play on it at night?” He asked the obvious. 

“It’s not up to me. The team captain sets the practice schedule,” You explained. “You know that I prefer to practice in the morning.”

Aesop knew that he could lecture you about being more careful and trying to convince your team’s captain to adjust the practice schedule to be during the daytime, but he knew that you weren’t up for a scolding…and he knew that you probably wouldn’t listen anyway. Quidditch was your greatest passion, and he knew that nagging you about it wouldn’t do you any good. 

“It isn’t broken, and it doesn’t seem to be dislocated,” He stated, referring to your collarbone. “But I can guarantee that it will be uncomfortable tomorrow if you don’t take something. Is it hurting you now?”

Aesop was a worrier. You didn’t want him getting all fussed up over a little Bludger bruise. If he knew about even half the injuries that you sustained from Quidditch, he would’ve tried to convince you to quit by now. Sure, it felt like your arm was about to detach from the socket, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“It’s a little sore.” You partially lied.

He leaned against the edge of his desk that was closest to you, his arms crossing over his chest. He caught the slight change in pitch in your voice when you answered, immediately alerting him that you weren’t being totally truthful.

“I thought you said that it started hurting after practice?” He recalled. “If you’re hurt, I need to know.”

It was difficult to get anything past him. You knew better. 

“Wiggenweld would probably be a smart idea…” You sighed, feeling ashamed for trying to pull a fast one on him.

“That’s what I thought,” He scoffed. “I presume you don’t have the ingredients to make it yourself?”

You couldn’t help but huff at him. You were beginning to think that he was feeling inconvenienced that you had walked all the way here for his help. 

It wasn’t like you were asking him to brew anything super complicated. As a matter of fact, you weren’t asking him to brew anything at all. Aesop always kept Wiggenweld close by. 

“I don’t. That’s always why I came here,” You shook your head. “If it’s too much trouble, I can just go to Pippin’s and buy a few vials.” 

“It’s late. You shouldn’t be wandering around Hogsmeade at this hour,” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, retrieving a small vial of the bright green liquid. “You really should keep Wiggenweld on you at all times. Especially if you’re going to keep getting beat up during Quidditch.”

He wasn’t wrong. You spent enough time on a broom that it was only a matter of time where luck would outweigh your skill, and the luck wouldn’t be in your favor. This wasn’t the first time that you had sought Aesop out after a bruising Quidditch session, but you knew that you couldn’t always expect him to be there to patch you up every time.

“I’m sorry I bothered you with this.” You removed the cap off of the bottle, eyeing the liquid inside.

His expression softened, his stern demeanor relaxing into a more comfortable position. He sheepishly shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants, nudging your foot with his as a gesture of reassurance.

Aesop forgot sometimes that his genuine worry for your health and well-being sometimes came off as aggressive and irritable. That was certainly not his intention. 

“You didn’t bother me,” He gave a small smile, gesturing towards the vial in your hand. “Drink up. Down the hatch.”

As common as Wiggenweld was, you wished that some genius potioneer would work towards finding a way to make it taste better. Nonetheless, you gulped it down in two swallows, immediately feeling its effect. The sharp ache in your shoulder subsided gradually until it fully disappeared, and the scrapes on your lower extremities faded within seconds.

“Better?” He took the empty container from your hands. 

“Much better,” You sighed. “Thanks.” 

“Of course. Are you certain that you’re alright otherwise?” His brows furrowed in concern. 

“I’m okay. I just need to get cleaned up and go to bed,” You shifted, preparing to stand up. “I won’t keep you any longer.”

He reached for your hand, helping you to your feet as if you’d collapse. He hated to see you go, and he definitely didn’t want you to leave with the thought that you had irritated him. 

“I assure you that you’re not imposing on me,” He said, pulling you in between his legs to keep you from going just yet. “Did you get a chance to eat before practice?”

He always asked that question. Every single time he saw you after practice, he asked you that same question. His arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him.

“No. I was running late.” You replied, knowing what he was going to say next. 

One of his hands came to your collar, checking to be sure that the Wiggenweld had done its job. 

“You need to eat,” He tutted. “You use a lot of energy playing Quidditch, especially with how rough you play. You need to replenish the energy.”

“I’m tired.” You whined. 

“I don’t care,” He remarked. “You need to eat something.”

“I want to shower and go to bed.” You argued. 

“Eat, shower, and then bed. If you eat then you can use my shower.” He offered. 

A certain glow appeared on your cheeks, shining through the layers of dirt and exhaustion. His heart soared at the sight. His soul exploded with joy and fulfillment with the knowledge that you were so positively responsive to him.

“And sleep in your bed?” You pleaded. 

He let out a low chuckle. He had known that question was coming. 

“That can be arranged,” He pressed a soft kiss to the middle of your forehead. “But food comes first.”

He wasn’t going to let you get away without getting some food in your belly. He was right after all, you needed the nourishment to make up for lost energy. He swayed you away from his desk, escorting you out of the classroom and accompanying you to The Great Hall. Dinnertime was well over, but there was always a way to scrounge up a meal after hours. 

Side by side, the two of you walked together through the corridors to get to your destination. The castle was mostly quiet, considering that everyone else had turned in for the night. Peeves, as usual, was cackling and jabbering about something somewhere off in the distance.

The two of you continued to chat along the way, catching up on what had happened since you had seen one another last. His pinky finger found yours, wrapping around it as a small gesture of affection. It was a comfort to him if nothing else, but he’d feel better once he knew you were fed, clean, and comfortable. 

He liked taking care of you. He wanted you to feel your best always, and he would do whatever he had to do to ensure that you were happy. 

“Are you coming to my Quidditch match on Saturday? I’d like you to see that all these scrapes and bruises aren’t for nothing.” 

Aesop wasn’t particularly the world’s biggest Quidditch fan. He kept up with the pro-Quidditch leagues and followed the scores of his favorite teams. However, as far as going out of his way to actually go see a match was unlikely. 

But in recent months, he had been frequenting the Hogwarts matches…mainly the ones where you were playing.

“Frankly, I’m beginning to think that you’re purposefully getting all roughed up as an excuse for my off the record medical services.” He joked.

“I would hardly consider them to be services. Anybody can spare me a vial or two of Wiggenweld,” You bantered. “But in all seriousness, will you come?”

He chuckled again, much lower and even sweeter this time. A sense of warmth and peace rushed over you when he pressed a kiss to your temple, a hum of affirmation sounding from his chest as he did so.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

[snorky]

Hi how are you?

I was hoping you could write something with Vince? Angst and fluffy ending? Please ❤️

Hold Me Close, And Never Let Go

Hey y’all, and hi to the lovely person who requested this Vince Dunn angst and fluff story. I'm doing well, and I hope you all are too. The pronouns for the reader in this story are they/them (so if you want it changed, let me know *directed at the lovely requester*). I’ve been busy recently, and so I apologize for this request coming out a little later than I wanted. I hope you also all enjoy this fic, and take care of yourself!

Pairing: Vince Dunn x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Angst, Stressed reader

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Heavy storms raged outside their Seattle apartment, the rain pitter-pattering against the windows as they tried to focus on their work. Thunder snapped now and then, and the wind seemed to whistle in the air as a warning.

The paper in front of them was taunting them, a blank page with no answer. All the numbers, letters, formulas, instructions, whatever it was, just didn’t make sense. It was all an incoherent mess to their tired eyes.

Deadlines were chasing them, yelling, screaming at them as if the time ticking down like sand slipping away through their fingers.

The pen in their hands seemed to be ticking them off at every moment. Ink flowed inconsistently, slipping on the paper in the wrong direction, scribbles and scrawls seeming to be the only thing that marked up their page.

A knock came from their door as they were lost in thought. 

“Baby? I miss you.” He called out from behind the door. “Can we cuddle together?”

It had been so long since they heard Vince’s voice, gentle compared to his figure. As badly as they wanted to cuddle with him, they had work to catch up on and do.

They just wished he could hold them, telling them that ‘it’s alright’ and ‘you’re doing lovely,’ to calm the storm of stress in their mind. The storm seemed to mirror the outside weather that was rampant, windy, and rainy.

Instead, they sighed, almost in irritation. “Can’t. I’m working.” Even though they mumbled, their voice still cracked, amplifying their exhaustion.

“Please.” The door creaked open as he came in, his steps careful as he walked towards them. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” he said quietly. “It’s been so long since I’ve even heard your voice.”

The storm continued outside, a flash of lightning followed by thunder disrupting the silence in the room.

Taking a deep breath in, it felt uneven, irritating them further. “Vince, I need to get this done,” they groaned. “Leave me alone for a bit.” Their voice came out much sharper than they had intended, and it was evident when a look of hurt appeared on his face.

He stood there in the middle of the room in silence, looking at them, arms crossed over his chest. They turned their head and looked at him for a brief moment, noticing how sad and disappointed he looked when they said that, and a pang of guilt struck them as they turned back to their work.

“Why.” He sounded hurt, his words came out so emotionally and yet empty and hollow all at once. “Why can’t you just rest with me for a moment?”

They thought about it in silence for a bit. The deadlines seemed so sudden, and the pressure to keep the expectations high was suffocating. Their body felt worn out, tense, and exhausted.

Turning to look at him, tears welled up in their eyes, blurring their vision. “I don’t know,” they croaked. “There’s just so much—”

Vince walked over to them, crouching down to be lower than eye level, and rested his hand on their shoulder. “You need a break.” He pleaded. “Okay?” His voice was always gentle with them, even when they both were upset or hurt. He never spoke louder than he had to, ever.

They finally let out a sob, exhaustion catching up to them, tears streaming down their face as they leaned into his arms. His hands braced them, holding them close as he carefully moved them off of the chair and onto the ground in his lap.

Their breaths were rough and ragged, uneven and unsteady.  “I’m sorry,” they mumbled, sniffling slightly. “I’m sorry for getting upset at you.”

“It’s okay, you’re alright. I know you weren’t feeling the best and that you weren’t in the right state of mind.” His words were genuine, smile sweet as ever.

Vince being this kind to them, even when they were upset, made them cry more at how sweet he was. The tears continued to fall, running down their cheeks, their nose now stuffy and irritated as they cried.

 “Shh, it’s going to be alright,” he soothed. His thumb rubbed small circles into their back, their face hidden in the crook of his neck. “Stay here with me, just for a bit.”

They both remained like this for a while, on the floor together in each other’s embrace, the storm calming down outside to a gentle rainfall. His deep breaths steadied them, a solid rock in the ocean that never seemed to move in the most hectic storms. Despite the tears continuing to run down their face, they remained silent for the most part, taking breaths in every now and then.

He hummed softly into their hair, pulling them closer to his body as he did so. “Let’s move to the bed, alright?” Pressing his lips to their forehead gently, he spoke, “We just need a quick nap, that’s all.”

Tears welling up in their eyes again, the kindness and patience he showed never failed to disappoint them. He never once upset them or made them feel bad about themselves. He was always caring and sweet, he was always perfect in their heart.

“What’s bothering you, sweetheart?” His hand went up to their face, cupping it gently in his palms as his thumb wiped a tear away.

They shook their head, choosing to remain in silence in fear that if they tried to speak, their tears would start to fall again, unending.

“It’s okay, we can always talk about it tomorrow, okay?” he spoke softly.

Keeping his arms wrapped tightly around them, he got up and walked to their shared bed. Setting them down gently on the bed, he then got in bed and lay down beside them. He then pulled the covers over both of them, encasing them in the soft, thick blanket.

“Cozy, baby?”

They nodded in response, scooting closer toward Vince under the blanket. He wrapped his arms around them, holding them warmly as one of his hands held the back of their head as they rested it on his chest, the stress slowly crumbling away.

It was just the both of them, just him in their world at the moment. The deadlines faltering away somewhere else, the stress melting away as he held them close.

“I love you,” they mumbled quietly.

He gave them a gentle peck on the top of their head and smiled sweetly at them. “I love you too,” he said. “And I’ll never stop loving you, baby.”

They smiled at his words, and before they could start tearing up again, he peppered soft kisses all over their face, making them let out a small laugh. “That’s what I like to hear,” he hummed.

[thekiltongrammarwriter]

Exam stress?? Educational burnout?? General stress? Pippa fitz Amobi to the rescue. Warning Drabble contains A pleading Pippa Fitz Amobi, may contain a sly sultry pippa. Fluffff

You were sat on your bed, legs strewn about as your pen flew on your page, formulas and academic planners strewn about your duvet. It was exam season and you had just about had it with Little Kilton Grammar school. You were a rather studious little thing, always working. No idle bone in your body. Your GCSE results had to perfect. Yet here was pippa fitz Amobi, eyeing you with soft eyes begging for you to have a break. A minuscule one at best.

Pippa leaned forward on the bed, one toned arm wrapping around your waist and tugging you closer. “You know I always have the best ideas.” She was well aware of the proximity, the close, intimate manner of her grip. Pip had never particularly cared for personal boundaries. Especially your personal boundaries. Her hand wandered up your side, coming to rest on your hips as her fingers slowly dipped underneath your shirt.

Her touch left a trail of goose-bumps along your skin, body reacting and immediately betraying you. You could feel the heat from her skin, breath hot against your throat as she spoke. “It’s a beautiful day,” Pippa chimed, “would be such a shame to waste it sitting here doing maths for hours on end.” Her breath was warm against your ear, “Plus, you know I hate it when you stay in here all day. It’s such a waste to keep that pretty little body hidden away in here like this.”

Her fingers drew circles on the skin of your lower stomach, just above the waistband of your pants, and you were absolutely certain you’d melt under her gaze. Pip’s hand slowly pulled your shirt upwards, exposing more of your skin to her. Her lips curled upwards in that sly smile as she chuckled in a low, sultry voice. “You just sit and read all day like a good little nerd. You’re so obedient, so good”

Those words had no right to make your skin ignite like that.

Her touch was gentle, yet possessive. The pads of her fingers pressed against your skin, as if she were trying to brand you. “Let me take you out for a while,” her breath tickled your neck, “let me show you a good time.” She moved closer, body now flush against your own, and you could feel every inch of her against your frame.

You didn't need to say anything for her to know the answer.

Pippa’s smile spread across her lips, that spark of victory dancing in her blue eyes. She knew she had you right where she wanted you. “Good girl,” she cooed voice rough with satisfaction, “I knew I'd get you.” That sentence, though spoken in jest, sent a shiver down your spine, making heat pool in your belly.

In an instant Pip was up, her body no longer pressed against your eager frame, “how do you fancy an ice lolly? And maybe a walk round town? We could sit near the lake and do some rather fun cross word puzzles?” her brows wiggle in that pippa fitz Amobi way that make your heart dance.

[inlovewithpandora]

ᥫ᭡ — Another One?

Artists — Dad!Hobie x Mom!reader (ft.Baby Boy)

Music Submission from: @cosmoholic — "I already want more!" "Let's see how we're handling the first one." w/ Hobie Brown || Reader and hobie are watching their baby sleep and it is just so cute that her baby fever goes up and says she wants more but hobie's like hold on there.

Lyrics — After only few months of giving birth to your baby boy you feel like it’s time to add another addition to your small family but your partner thinks otherwise.

Genre — Drabble

Duration — 688 words

Music Advisory — sfw, fluff, parent!au, mention of past pregnancy + mention of baby fever

Words from Artist — Since it’s Mother’s Day I wanted to post something with mom!reader so here’s a little something to celebrate! Always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

Current Platforms — main masterlist・atsv taglist

You sit in your son’s nursery, feeding him formula out of his bottle as his eyes start fluttering shut. Once he doses off, you pull the bottle out of his mouth and wipe the milk that was dripping down his chin before walking over to his crib and carefully placing him inside. When his body hits the small mattress, it doesn’t take him long to fall asleep. “My handsome boy.” You whisper to yourself as you press your lips to his head, lightly kissing him before pulling his light blue blanket over his body.

You continue standing over his crib, watching him move around every so often, trying to get comfortable. You love him at this age, he is precious in every way and you enjoy being his mother. Watching him sleep so peacefully makes you think about what it would be like to have another child to cradle in your arms.

“Hi, love.” Hobie comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and resting his head on your shoulder. He just came home from a few hours of patrolling, watching over the city to make sure everything is safe and now he’s happy to be in the comfort of his home with you and the baby.

“Hey, baby.” You raise your arm and place your hand on the side of his face, acknowledging his presence. In return, he places a gentle kiss on your cheek, making your lips curl into a soft smile from the physical affection.

“How long has he been sleeping?” Hobie asks, moving his gaze from you to the baby, admiring how much his features resemble yours.

“Almost ten minutes now.” You take your hand gently and rub his head, in awe of how much of a sweet baby he is. You have been so focused on your son that you don’t feel Hobie’s hands traveling down your body. When his hands find solace on your stomach, pressing gently against your skin, it reminds you of when you were pregnant and he would always rub your swollen belly and talk to the baby, telling him how excited he was to become a father.

Thinking about the memories of you being pregnant combined with how much you love taking care of your newborn, the feeling of baby fever increases by the second, making your mind foggy with thoughts of bringing another child into the world. “Hobie, I already want more!” You blurt out, making Hobie’s face scrunch up at your sudden outburst. Both of you talked about having another baby in a few years because you wanted your children to be close in age, but you never said anything about having another one this soon.

At first Hobie doesn’t know how to respond, he doesn’t want to immediately shut down your statement, knowing that the conversation would go sideways and make you upset with him, so he decides to give an open-ended response instead. "Let's see how we're handling the first one and then we’ll think about another." He turns you around to face him, placing his hand under your chin so he can look into your sparkling eyes. “How does that sound?”

“That sounds perfect!” You reply with a wide smile, already having thoughts of what life would look like with a new addition to your family. Hobie can’t resist the smile that tugs at his lips when he sees how excited you are from just speaking about having another child, and he gently kisses your forehead before pulling you into his embrace, glad that you both could come to an agreement. In the end, Hobie is right, you should wait until it’s the right time to have another baby and when that time comes, you both will be ready.

Fanbase — @inspace1 @phoenixx69 @savagemickey03 @soilmayo @liyahsocorro @baizzhu @solanawrld @onlyloaksgf @popeheywardssecretgf @number1gal @taylormarieee @toneystank-3000 @h3art-l3ss @mellagzz @em-x0 @3zae-zae3 @beargracecanbeanyone @miguellover6969 @strawberryclouds22 @ban-al3x @kxllanxtdoor @lorarri @maxlynn17 @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap @miunmoxo @d0ubl-tr0ubl3 @n3v1 @tater-tot0423

[dragonzzilla]

Tears of the Kingdom's underwhelming narrative had rich potential

I'll preface this with a confession: I have not played Tears of the Kingdom. As a matter of fact, I haven't played any Legend of Zelda. I simply never had the opportunity while growing up, so my interest in the series has always been satellite. As such, I do not have the perspective of someone who has. My opinions are formulated entirely in what little I have seen or sought out. I'm coming at this with the perspective of an outsider looking in. But I'm not looking for a fight. My aim isn't to bash the new hotness out of jealous spite, or to convince people to feel bad about liking this game that, I've otherwise heard, is really fun. The reason I care, even though I'm not a part of the fandom, is that we all deserved better.

This is a much anticipated sequel to a smash hit from one of the biggest names in the industry, sold at a whopping $70—and having watched for free a YouTube compilation of all the cutscenes pertaining to Ganondorf, the much advertised central antagonist of TOTK, I felt robbed. This was my legitimate reaction:

Disregarding all my other feelings for a moment, I was dumbstruck to see a Nintendo game—released in our year of 2023—use what is essentially the same cutscene four times while explaining the backstory. I recognize TOTK has modular progression, allowing you to reach the Sages in whatever order you please. But once you've seen the first one, the other three will offer you no more valuable information. I'm willing to stretch my suspension of disbelief pretty far, yet even I recognized on first viewing how formulaic the Sage cutscenes are. It wrenched me out of the story.* Hearing different perspectives about the same events can and should be interesting, but the Sages relating these events barely qualify as characters—possessing neither names nor even faces, thanks to their uniform masks of Zonai design...

* I'll acknowledge: Within universe, there is reason enough for the Sages to repeat what is essentially the same story to their respective successors to apprise them of the situation. I can certainly see Link having to sit through the same spiel several times so everyone is on the same page. But it felt really unnecessary as a member of the audience. And unlike their BOTW counterparts, the Four Champions, the Sages don't stick around long enough to endear themselves any further, instead passing their abilities and function onto their successors.

… Which, I feel, represents the Ancient Past Storyline as a whole. Despite the number of bodies involved, no one felt alive. Queen Sonia—this continuity's founding mother of Hyrule, where divine power is explicitly matrilineal—amounts to nothing more than meat for the fridge to motivate the real star of the show, Rauru. Everyone else, including Zelda and the other Sages, are merely bit players in the conflict between him and Ganondorf. But it's a conflict without teeth. Ganondorf displays nothing but a mad, naked lust for power. Opposing him is Rauru, the quintessential Good King and benevolent god figure who would never abuse his power, but would sacrifice it all to seal away the evil invader who killed his beloved martyr-wife. There is no interrogation of the 'gentle' imperialism Rauru represents. His way is textually presented as the only righteous way. The world of this continuity revolves around his legacy and its preservation; anything else is not merely deviant, but indicative of evil. Only someone with the blackest of hearts would oppose this order. The narrative requires Ganondorf to be nothing less than the epitome of evil.

Which is… really disappointing, to say the least. Because I happen to like Ganondorf. His character and his place in the mythos have always been the forefront of my interest in the series; forget Link or Zelda. Naturally, I was drawn in by TOTK's marketing about Ganondorf's return as a human antagonist after a 17 year long hiatus. Given how much of a reinvention BOTW was for the series as a whole, I was disappointed back in 2017 to learn that Ganondorf existed only as a mindless force of primordial evil. "How lame," I thought, "but I guess it's not really Ganondorf." Calamity Ganon was just that: Ganon. And Ganon's always a full-blown monster, divorced from any nuance possessed by his OOT, WW, and TP selves. Then the first teaser for TOTK dropped, placing Ganondorf the man (if a little worse for wear) front and center. Intrigued, I enjoyed the explosion of enthusiastic fan art that followed, as well as the speculation regarding the role he would play. Surely, he would be more than a one-note villain! My expectations rose as Nintendo revealed more about him. His new design didn't immediately scream Dark Lord; and in his first speaking role, he draws attention to the fact that he has returned (within universe and meta-wise) and he has a vision for the world. I couldn't want to see the final product! Yet here we are.

It's a strange thing to fixate upon, when I don't have any skin in this game. But I'm passionate about storytelling. I enjoy rich narratives with nuanced characters, and I respect those that fully commit to the ideas they present... whereas stories that try to have their cake and eat it too, well, those pique my interest as well. Whenever I see untapped potential, my writer's mind cannot help but ponder the age-old question of "What if?" And I intend to do just that, in the cut below (this rant is long enough as it is).

Of course, no amount of brainstorming can change the reality of a product. A ship's structural flaws only become apparent once it's left port, but there's no recalling it then. Nonetheless, there is value in the discussion. We should always critically analyze what corporations give us, desiccating their products to discern the messages (whether intentional or not) contained within—especially when the product is aimed toward a young audience that might not have the cognitive tools to decipher those messages for themselves. Even if we cannot affect change in a monolithic company like Nintendo, we can still draw lessons from their missteps to improve our own writing.

If I have such grievances with TOTK's story, why bother with a rewrite? Because:

Playing within the limits of another's sandbox can help to build creative muscle.

I believe TOTK has all the right ingredients for a compelling story, if this new series wasn't so afraid to challenge its narrative roots the way it has its gameplay.

A few more things to note: I am not a professional writer, nor am I a veteran of the series. I'm working strictly with what TOTK brings to the table. I'll make no efforts to reconcile the continuity errors between BOTW and TOTK (though it deserves mentioning), or even attempt to fit this in a single cohesive timeline with the rest of the franchise. I am not that brave lol. What I propose below is simply how I would use these toys; YMMV. I hope this inspires discussion more so than congratulation or wordless agreement (though my ego will accept compliments all the same, especially since it took no small amount of spoons to organize my thoughts like this). As Ganondorf says:

A Modest Rewrite of TOTK's Ancient Past Storyline

Zelda is still flung to the past, but she awakens not to a picturesque golden age under the magnanimous rule of an infallible demigod. Instead, sadly reminiscent of her own age, the land lays in ruin, in the immediate aftermath of its own calamity. But this isn't the fault of Ganon. The blame lies solely with the Zonai.

The Zonai were understandably viewed as gods. A people who live up in the sky on floating islands, in possession of miraculous technology (including killer robots to protect their interests!), and magical artifacts that in the wrong hands can unleash cataclysmic power? A civilization as powerful as theirs doesn't suddenly end without a very good reason. Yet as far as I know, no explanation is provided as to why Rauru and Mineru are seemingly the last of the Zonai. No mention is made of a rival power that could've taken them down; certainly none of the terrestrial races. Remember, the Zonai were seen as gods. If you were to ask me? A civilization with that great of a power at their disposal, and apparently so much of it that Rauru has four more Stones (not including his own, Sonia's, or Mineru's) to pass out as he sees fit... can only destroy itself.*

* I know the Zonai are depicted in text as a purely enlightened and benevolent race... but as far back in the franchise as OOT (which TOTK draws a lot from), not even Hyrule—the standard by which all civilization in LOZ is judged—was above a civil war, orphaning Link. War Within LOZ clearly isn't waged solely against primal forces of evil that can, must, and should be destroyed. And that's good! A story is made richer when even the Designated Good Guys can fuck things up, when characters are allowed to contain multitudes—good and bad qualities!

Power does not defuse conflict. It only escalates the scope of destruction once it's unleashed. So, for whatever reasons the Zonai gave themselves then clung to, they started fighting each other. Using their flying machines and automatons, battles were fought upon and between their sky islands, the detritus of war raining down on the lands below—the inhabitants of which can do nothing but watch as a war rages in heaven—until finally the full power of the Stones is unleashed in an exchange that guarantees mutual destruction. The sky islands all plummet to the earth, wreaking mass destruction. This is the world Zelda finds herself in—where the land has been cracked wide open, the skies are choked with dust, and no one gets along... so unlike the world she knows.

Zelda still comes into the care of Rauru and Sonia, but Rauru is merely Sonia's consort—he holds no power as king. It's evident from the start that Sonia is steering the direction of Hyrule—a humble territory in this age—in this tumultuous time, although Rauru is backing her. It's thanks to Sonia that Rauru and Mineru survived the fall of their sky island, brought back from the brink of death. It was during this time that Rauru fell in love with her; and to repay her, Rauru revealed that, between himself and Mineru, they have three intact Stones (a small homage to the Triforce since it doesn't matter in this continuity) with which they can secure Hyrule's place in this brave new world. Importantly, this isn't portrayed as any more righteous than a nation acquiring a clear advantage over its rivals. Indeed, Zelda's thrown for a loop to learn that in this era, the other races like the Gorons and the Zora aren't merely independent from Hyrule but have a history of conflict—something she never learned in her history books. And tensions are only rising, as these rival nations find Stones of their own after much scavenging, shifting an already fraught balance of power. The gods are dead, their empire shattered—yet slivers of their strength remain, for those daring enough to claim them. By using one of these Stones, a tribe could secure its borders, reclaim ancestral land... or conquer new territory. This is where Ganondorf enters the picture.

This Ganondorf is still a villain, but there's room for nuance. He's ruthless and prideful, and certainly antagonistic toward Hyrule; but the narrative respects him as much as his fellow monarchs. He cares about the success of his people, because his entire identity is shaped around being their king. Remember that a male is born to the Gerudo only once in a hundred years. Ganondorf is but the latest in a lineage of kings, with the heavy burden of expectation that carries—he has a legacy to uphold or surpass if he can help it. And ever since he was a boy, he envied the easy lives and green lands of Hyrule, so as a man he has made it his personal ambition to conquer it... but at every turn, he has met his match in Sonia, who is every bit as skilled of a commander and a magician. The two of them have clashed so many times that they've become the most intimate of enemies, hard pressed to hate each other because they both know what's at stake. For years, they've been evenly matched... but the downfall of the Zonai changed everything. In spite of the Gerudo's best efforts, they haven't been able to find a single Stone to make up for the fact that the crash of their local sky islands kicked up terrible sandstorms and drove monsters from their usual habitats. The Gerudo are more desperate than ever. Then Ganondorf learns that his oldest enemy is housing two living Zonai underneath her roof, and has a total of four Stones at her disposal. He cannot battle Hyrule as before, lest he risk annihilation—if not by Sonia's hands, then another tribe that is more willing to coup de grâce a decimated competitor, or they might perish to monsters, or the desert might finally claim them, the dunes swallowing up their bones and burying their accomplishments. He could bend the knee—throw himself at Sonia's feet and hope for the best, sacrificing Gerudo independence to share in Hyrule's bounty. But his pride will never allow that.

He grew up in the shadow of detached gods, was raised on tales of how they were the ultimate arbiters of truth and value—almighty in their judgment and unassailable—and he saw for himself that they would only ever come down to earth to indulge their curiosity about the quaint groundfolk or harvest what their sky islands could not provide, most notably Zonaite (of course they named it after themselves...) to fuel their miraculous machines, the secrets of which they refused to share with anyone 'because they weren't ready' and would in fact use those same machines to keep the groundfolk from overreaching. Ganondorf is the first king in generations to glimpse a sky—and a future—uncontrolled by the Zonai. Though he was raised to be a king, the very definition of absolute power and privilege, only now is he truly beholden to no one. Finally, he is free to shape his own destiny. And he's not about to relinquish that freedom on account of his dearest enemy getting in bed with a fallen demigod—no, not a god... the Zonai's civil war proved they are not infallible. Without their technology, without their precious Stones, they're flesh and blood, the same as anyone else. Mortal. And what is a man to a king?

Despite the bad blood between them, and the generations of strife between their peoples, Ganondorf is able to convince Sonia that he is willing to bury the hatchet for the sake of his people, that his desire to enter the protective embrace of her kingdom, given the dangerous new world they find themselves in, is genuine. His true intentions are not so painfully transparent, but still Zelda does not trust him. She can't stop wondering how this man becomes the source of the Gloom in her era, even if the hateful creature she encountered in the depths below Hyrule Castle hardly seemed human at all. But she cannot act on a suspicion of duplicity due to future events. So for Ganondorf's entire stint in Sonia's court, Zelda tries to weasel out the truth—and in so doing, builds a relationship with the future Demon King. Once Ganondorf catches on to the fact that Zelda sees right through him, it becomes a game of 4D chess. Who is this girl, a member of Sonia's court that he has never heard before yet is trusted enough to bear a Stone, and why is she so certain of his true motives? He's smart enough to suss out that it isn't simple bigotry. It's a fine line Zelda must walk, because she has a secret of her own—she hasn't told anyone that she's from the future, out of a rational fear of disrupting the past and changing history (but at the same time, she can't abide doing nothing, and these interests war within her).

Despite Zelda's best efforts, Ganondorf succeeds in his plot. In a single stroke, he eliminates an old enemy, deprives her nation of its leader and a Stone, and finally secures a Stone for the Gerudo. But claiming the Stone doesn't immediately transform him into an Almighty Demon King. The surge of power is great, but not so much that he's willing to engage three other Stone bearers—two of which are Zonai who of course have experience using them—so he wisely retreats, though not before telling Rauru: "No point in crying over this one. She's not the first victim of your arrogance. And we both know she won't be the last." He's made powerful enemies, but it's a battle he can fight on another day, and at least now he's on equal footing with the other factions and can take their Stones until he can finally conquer Hyrule. But Ganondorf severely underestimates the lengths Rauru will go for revenge. In killing Sonia, before Rauru's very eyes no less, he has made another enemy for life (and beyond).

Understand that Rauru survived the destruction of his people and their way of life. That's traumatic enough. But now, the person who saved his life, and gave it new meaning, is dead. Murdered. By someone he had come to trust. Because he put a target around her neck. He should have seen this coming, he should have listened to Zelda, perhaps then he could have stopped this. But it's far too late now. Before, he was content to merely support and serve—a just penance, he believed, for his small part in breaking the world. Now, he has a new purpose: To secure Sonia's legacy by any means necessary. He binds his fate to Hyrule, which will never be safe so long as Ganondorf lives. This isn't a wise and beneficent King of Light opposing a terrible darkness, but a grieving widower—who's also a skyborn demigod that just lost his one earthly tie.

After taking command as regent, Rauru does not invite the other races to a grand alliance; he brings them to heel through force. It's not enough for Rauru to immediately counterattack Ganondorf. He wants to destroy him, and what better way than to turn the whole world against him? Additionally, by consolidating the power of the Stones onto his side, he denies Ganondorf the opportunity to pick them off one by one. Zelda is witnessing history, the birth of Hyrule as she knows it, but there's nothing noble about it. It's simple imperialism, and she has to grapple with the fact that she's a beneficiary of it. If the peoples of Hyrule were united through bloodshed, does this invalidate the friendships she's made among those peoples in her present? She's confronted with deep questions which possess no easy answers.

Meanwhile, Ganondorf hasn't been sitting on his laurels. He sees Rauru is stacking the deck against him, such that even the Stone's power won't be enough to win the coming war. The Gerudo are outnumbered and outgunned. So Ganondorf turns to darker magics, begins to press monsters into service, etc. His search for ever greater power takes him into the Depths, where he finds a dangerous substance called Gloom. According to legend, it is the ichor of a demon god who was struck down long ago and sealed away in the bowels of the earth. It drains the life-force of whoever touches it, that much is certain... but Ganondorf reckons it is possible to access this stolen vitality to perform feats of magic hitherto thought impossible. Through his mastery of dark magic, amplified by the Stone, he is able to harness the Gloom. First he tests it upon monsters... then dissidents, those reluctant to oppose Rauru's growing army. He makes examples of them, siphoning away their life-force to show those who will not fight will still serve their king. But this barbarous act only creates more dissent among the Gerudo. Tradition appointed Ganondorf as king, but that doesn't mean they have to stomach his tyranny. Even if he manages to win this war, this new power could allow him to reign forever, and he just demonstrated how little their individual lives mean to him. Worried for the future of their people, Ganondorf's second-in-command, Nabooru, sells him out in exchange for clemency, enabling Rauru and his Sages to capture him. Instead of slaying him on the spot, Rauru declares his intention to haul him back to Hyrule for a public execution in Sonia's name. Nabooru insists on coming along; if the King of the Gerudo is to die on foreign soil, then one of his own should observe his passing.

Ganondorf doesn't respond well to this betrayal. After everything he sacrificed, they would still rather roll over and show their bellies—surrender their freedom and pride—to a foreign lord. Who are these people, to abandon the courage of their ancestors? These are not his Gerudo. Ganondorf disowns them, swearing vengeance upon these cowards even as he is taken away in chains. The journey back to Hyrule gives him time to brood on his destiny. He was born to be a king, yet the place of his birth has forsaken him while the rest of the world wants him dead. Most people would crumble, succumb to despair. But his pride will never allow that. He will keep fighting, like he always has. He will crush any opposition, even if it's the people who gave him birth. He will rule, even if he must reign as king of the undesired. There's a saying: 'The brighter the light, the deeper the shadow.' And Rauru has blazed oh so fiercely. To oppose him, Ganondorf must become nothing less than the King of Shadow.

At the moment of his execution, he draws upon the Gloom to transcend his mortal limits, finally becoming the Demon King. In this form, he's able to battle all seven of the Sages, but he's still not almighty. In theory, Rauru is able to slay him... but he chooses not to. Imprisoning Ganondorf isn't done as a last resort; Rauru wants him to suffer. "Killing you would be far too kind. I will make you wish you could die. You won't. I will hold you here. We will build our kingdom over the lands you tried to burn and pillage. And you will rot here, trapped in this moment, long after you have faded from its memory." And he sincerely believes that he'll be able to contain Ganondorf for all time—because he was able to ascertain that Zelda is from the future, after examining her Stone (his Stone, as it turns out) and piecing together her strange accent and unusual notions, even though she has the pointed ears of a Hylian. He doesn't understand the power, but he does take it as proof positive that his victory is guaranteed and Hyrule exists well into the future... without ever learning the whole truth of it. Rauru is directly responsible for the cycle of Calamity Ganon, as Ganondorf's resent and hatred transformed the Gloom into Malice.

Rauru's pride is an actual flaw, one that is fully explored in the modern day. Just like Ganondorf says, thousands of years passed in the blink of an eye; Rauru hasn't had any time to process his rage. He only saves Link to make him a vehicle for his revenge; sticking around past the tutorial as Link's spectral companion, constantly pushing him to ignore all distractions to destroy Ganondorf ASAP, yet unable to control him directly. In staying with Link, Rauru learns of his legacy; that he created a lasting kingdom, but harmed future generations by inadvertently creating Calamity Ganon—Ganondorf's disembodied anguish and hate, nursed over thousands of years. His selfish decisions created more harm than Ganondorf could have in a single lifetime. Just as the Zonai destroyed the world once before, Rauru managed to destroy it again and again. Hyrule no longer even exists as a kingdom, destroyed by Calamity Ganon 100 years prior. Yet Link continues to fight—not for himself, but to protect and help those he cares about as well as perfect strangers. Rauru gives a touch of the divine to Link, and in return Link reintroduces Rauru to humanity.

In contrast: Ganondorf broods in the Depths, alone. Although he still has a corporeal form, he's just as much of a ghost as Rauru is. He's more isolated than ever, having awakened to a strange world where nothing is as he remembers it. The geography is different, the flora and fauna is different, the people are different. Especially the Gerudo. They don't remember him as ever having been a person at all, believing the monster of their legends merely adopted the form of a Gerudo. But that doesn't sting as much as how tame they've become in his absence. These Gerudo have no fangs; they're fully in bed with Hyrule in every sense of the word, and it disgusts him. Nothing in this world is right. Everyone has forgotten their pride and their history; no one remembers a time when Hyrule wasn't be-all and end-all. Unable to accept this future, he terraforms Hyrule in the image of what it used to be, so it might become a crucible once more. The strong will adapt and survive, while the weak rightfully perish. He will create a world that rewards might and daring above all else.

Ganondorf is none too pleased to learn Link is running around with the arm of the man who sealed him for millennia, and assumes that he has become Rauru's puppet (even more hand symbolism)... but that's a key difference between Ganondorf and Rauru. Link essentially drags Rauru through character development, rekindling a sense of humanity within him. Ganondorf has no one to break him out of his rut. His only company down in the Depths are monsters and the Yiga Clan, who revere him as the source of Calamity Ganon—for his power and opposition of Hyrulian supremacy—but do not see him as person, a king in need of counsel. Ganondorf is more alone than ever, but he refuses to address this. To despair is to admit that the world has power over you, and he is the single strongest being in the world. Gods do not weep. And in that final confrontation, Rauru addresses Ganondorf: They're both ghosts of the past, stubbornly trying to shape the future to their liking; but the present belongs to the living. They both need to let go. But Ganondorf's pride will never allow that. To admit defeat is to admit someone has power over him, and he cannot allow it. It becomes clear to him that the only option left to him is to not play at all.

He swallows his Stone and becomes a dragon, but this doesn't lead to another boss fight (to compensate, the third phase would be a more classical Ganon fight; a friend suggested the name of "Scourge of Hyrule—Apocalypse Ganon"). Instead, in line with what was established earlier—that to become a dragon is to lose yourself to the process—Ganondorf ascends to the sky... and bears no more malice toward Link or Hyrule. He becomes the ultimate in power—immortal and at last truly divine—at the cost of his ego. He's still dangerous since he radiates Gloom, but he doesn't attack, just like the other dragons: an idiot god. He returns to the Depths out of instinctual comfort, but will occasionally surface and usher in a Blood Moon. And like the other dragons, you can harvest rare materials from him to make the best Gloom weapons or whatever. + Leaving Ganondorf in this state leaves a door open for fanatics to try and restore him in a sequel.

So, that's all I got

There's a lot of things I didn't address. Like whether the line of succession was broken with Sonia's death (so is Zelda descended from a relative of hers?), what sort of characters the Sages should be, or what Zelda does after Ganondorf is sealed away by Rauru (I'm personally not comfortable with her waltzing up to the Sages and in a stable time loop binding all the races to Hyrule), how weird the Draconification plot point is (and how Zelda is restored to her human form by Good Ending ghost magic), how Zelda is restored in this version (sequel hook same with Ganon?), how disconnected I feel Link is to the Ancient Past storyline as a whole, whether my version of Ganondorf actually ever learned about him, I didn't really dive into the aforementioned imperialist message in TOTK (others have already done so better than I), etc. Thing is, I'm not a professional writer. I do it for the love of it, and that's what this is. A messy labor of misplaced love for a franchise I've never played, all because I was upset they didn't treat my blorbo the way I like. You know how it goes. My brain didn't know when to let go, but at least now it's out there and not rattling around solely in my noggin, making an awful racket. Maybe now I can work on other things. If you've made it this far, cheers.

[pumpkin-cake]

Sunshine

(katsuku bakugou x gn!afab!reader)

summary - dad katsuki drabble, i’ll probably make more of these since i’m a sucker for this stuff

warnings - cursing, parenthood, accidental pregnancy

Katsuki Bakugou was not a paternal figure.

He was rude, loud, boisterous, aggressive, and more.

So when you anxiously handed him that pregnancy test, he about flipped out. He had to stop himself from losing his mind and taking things out on you. You both had done the best you could. He had a condom on, and you were even on BC.

Against all odds, Katsuki ended up in that delivery room and holding his daughter in his huge, beefy arms.

It took him a while to fall in love with you, but with his little girl? It was love at first sight. Her chubby cheeks practically glowed under the fluorescent hospital lights, her tiny chest rising and falling as she slept.

What really sold him was when she opened her eyes and he saw his own crimson irises staring up at him. The way she yawned and stretched out in his arms before getting comfortable once more with a soft babble.

You already had Katsuki wrapped around his finger, and now Katsumi Bakugou made him crumble on the spot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~💕~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki took fatherhood very seriously. He wasn’t about to screw up his own kid so early. He made sure she always got her bottle on time, and constantly checked for any signs that something could be wrong.

Her temperature goes up a little? She’s going right to the doctor.

The best doctor.

He gets the the best formula, diapers, and other supplies, stating that, “Katsumi is a Bakugou, and she deserves the best!”

What you thought was the sweetest though, was when it was just him and the baby alone together.

You had gotten a decent amount of sleep, which was very strange considering the little Bakugou started crying every night, waking you up.

After several nights of this, your body was basically conditioned to wake up in the middle of the night. It worried you that you hadn’t heard a peep from her all night.

Then you noticed Katsuki wasn’t in bed next to you.

You usually took care of the baby at night if you could, knowing how important sleep was to Katsuki.

You lugged yourself out of bed and trudged to the nursery, where you found the door to be ajar. You discreetly peeked in and a huge dumb grin spread across your face at the sight.

Katsuki’s large frame was sat in the rocking chair near his daughter’s crib, with said little girl in his arms. He had her close to his chest, delicately playing with the thin tufts of blonde that had started growing on her head.

“…and then…boom..! I blasted that guy away. You’re so lucky your dad is so cool…”

Katsuki’s voice was gentle, despite the fact he was retelling his most recent villain incident. The baby giggled, her pacifier slipping from her mouth.

“Hah, I’m so cool your jaw is dropping, huh?”

He carefully took the pacifier and popped it back into her mouth, and leaned down to place a soft kiss on her forehead.

Katsumi yawned, pacifier falling from her mouth again but she didn’t care, nuzzling into her father’s chest and closing her bright red eyes, and she was fast asleep.

“Well, shit…now I can’t get up…” Katsuki grumbled a bit.

“Yes you can.”

Katsuki jumped, looking over as you walked into the room. He scowled and held Katsumi closer.

“What are you doin’? Tryna make me wake her up after I just got her to bed?”

“I’m not letting you sleep in the wooden rocking chair, Kats. She can sleep in her own bed.” You smiled, going over and carefully taking her into your arms.

“She was comfy with me, but whatever…”

[in-a-nook-with-a-notebook]

Life Could Be A Dream

Franchise: Star Wars (but modern AU)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x male reader (reader's pronouns are he/him/his)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: fluff, modern!AU, implied smut (scratch marks on Poe’s back, hickeys, mentions of nudity if you squint), fluff, established relationship, mentions of Poe being an F1 driver, no plot really just a sweet morning with Poe, did I mention fluff?

Summary: Poe always gets cuddly after a race; the more intense the race, the more he wants to be glued to your side. Yesterday's race was pretty crazy, but you’re not complaining.

A/N: This is ridiculously self indulgent, especially with the breakfast foods (I am a slut for a good serving of pancakes) also the inspiration and the song mentioned is Sh-Boom (Life Could Be A Dream) by The Sh-Booms, highly recommend listening while reading; for some reason I imagine Poe being a Formula One racer in a modern AU so voila

You blink your tired eyes open with the sun peering through the curtains of the hotel room. It’s warm and welcome on your skin. A lazy smile drifts over your face. You stretch a little before curling up under the thick blanket again; it’s smooth against your bare skin, perfect for a morning like this.

You slowly roll onto your side, turning your back to the window. Your eyes land on your boyfriend’s sleeping form. Poe is snoring softly, his dark curls tousled and unkempt. He looks so peaceful. His broad back glows in the morning light, the duvet haphazardly covering the lower half of his body. There are faint red marks near his shoulders, reminders of last night. Even after the longest, most intense races, he still has some… pent up energy.

Careful not to wake him, you lean forward and press a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades. You then silently slip out of the bed, tugging on a clean pair of boxers. You’re grateful for the carpeting under your bare feet until you reach the cold tile of the bathroom. You brush your teeth, considering you can taste how bad your morning breath is, but you don’t bother fixing your messy hair. You wash your face with cold water to wake yourself up a little more, padding it dry with a facecloth. You look at yourself in the mirror, your eyes sliding over the hickeys on your neck and chest from Poe last night. Your fingers ghost over them.

After leaving the bathroom, you grab a shirt from last night. It’s either yours or Poe’s. You’re not sure, but you don’t really care all that much - it’s a shirt either way.

You wander to the kitchen, thankful the two of you had booked at an extended stay hotel; full kitchen with a big fridge, living space separate from the bed area; lots of space for you and him to stay for a while. You dig through the fridge in search of ingredients for breakfast. The two of you went out for groceries a couple days before his big race in Melbourne, so you had everything you needed to make a filling breakfast; Poe’s always hungry after a night like last night. You are too, quite frankly. You grab bacon, eggs and milk and put them on the counter, lightly kicking the fridge closed behind you. From the cabinets behind you, you collect salt, baking powder, white sugar, and a small bag of flour.

As much as you don’t like packing heavy when you travel for Poe’s races, you’ve brought it upon yourself to have some essentials so you aren’t eating out all the time. After the first few races, you pretty much put together a travel kit of cooking/baking supplies and other things you guys would usually have at home.

You grab a mixing bowl and a wooden spoon and begin mixing the dry ingredients together. You snag a normal bowl from the cupboard to mix the wet ingredients with a whisk. You then combine them together and leave it on the counter with a dishcloth over it, letting it rise. From the cabinets underneath the counter, you grab two pans; one for the pancakes when they’re ready and one for the bacon. As you set the pan on the stove to heat up, you hear shuffling from the bedroom area; Poe’s awake.

The pan warms quickly and you start laying bacon on it to fry. The sizzling meets your ears just as Poe appears out of the corner of his eye. You focus mostly on the bacon, but you can sense his presence. His arm snakes around your waist and he pulls your back against his warm, bare chest. He rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Good morning,” you say with a smile.

Poe hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. “Morning, baby.”

“How’d you sleep?”

“Like a log, but last night was amazing…” He nibbles on your neck a little, tightening his grip around you. You chuckle, bringing your hand down to squeeze his. “Bacon?” Poe inquires, changing the subject and looking down at the pan in front of you. His chin rests on your shoulder, leaning his head against yours.

“And pancakes,” you add, gesturing lazily to the mixing bowl.

“Mmm, I love your breakfasts.”

“You love all my cooking. And baking, for that matter.”

“Because you, mi amor, are an absolute god in the kitchen.”

“You flatter me, darling.” You reach for the tongs to flip the bacon strips. “I’m assuming you’re hungry. You’re always hungry.”

“For your food, always.”

“Flirt.”

“I’m just speaking the truth here.” He presses a kiss to your cheek. “Want help?”

“I love you, but you can just sit there and look pretty for now.” You turn your head to fully kiss him. “I wanna cook for you.”

“You always cook for me.”

“Yeah, because, no offence, but you can’t cook for shit.”

“I’m a Formula One driver, not a chef.”

“I’m not even technically a chef.”

“You might as well be,” Poe replies, untangling himself from you. “You are probably one of the best cooks I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. And eating with. And, you know, everything else.” He kisses the back of your neck before stepping away to sit at the island, watching you fondly. “You sure you don’t want help?”

“Well, how about you set out the fruit from the fridge?”

“That I can do.”

As you get a plate out for the bacon, as well as a couple pieces of paper towel to catch the leftover grease, while Poe goes to the fridge. You feel Poe’s finger drag down your spine, sending a shiver through your body.

“Tease,” you murmur, looking at him over your shoulder. He smirks at you, blowing a kiss to you. “You wanna put some music on?”

“Absolutely.”

You transfer the cooked bacon onto the plate, then put more bacon on the pan. Poe shuffles around behind you, connecting his phone to the speaker.

Life could be a dream, life could be a dream

Do, do, do, do, sh-boom

A smile crosses your face with you hear the song and you turn to look at Poe. He puts his phone down on the counter. You both begin to murmur the lyrics under your breath.

“Life could be a dream. If I could take you up in paradise up above. If you would tell me I’m the only one that you love, life could be a dream, sweetheart, hello, hello again, sh-boom, and hopin’ we’ll meet again…”

“You look so good in my shirt,” he murmurs, coming up behind you again. He kisses your cheek, resting his hand on your hip. “I ever tell you that?”

“You’ve mentioned…” you reply, relaxing under his touch.

“I love when you travel with me,” Poe says. “Thank you for coming.”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be, my love.”

Poe gently takes your chin in his hand to turn your head towards him. He presses a deep kiss to your lips. When he pulls away, he has a piece of bacon in his hand.

“Impatient?” You tease.

“It’s bacon. I’m hungry.”

You laugh when he takes a bite and his face lights up. “You’re cute,” you remark. His face goes red and he dips his head.

“Shut up.”

“No.” You tilt his chin up with your finger, pressing your lips to his. “You’re downright adorable, Poe Dameron.”

“You’re relentless.”

“You love me.”

“I adore you.”

You smirk. “I know.”

Some mornings, the two of you have to rush around, packing for another plane or prepping for another race, but not today. Poe’s got a free day, and he intends to spend every minute of it with you. Even if it’s just swaying in the kitchen, teasing each other. As long as he’s with you, he’s happy.

A/N: I just wanted a soft morning with Poe and the song had me in a fluffy mood so I hope y'all enjoy this because I know I did! Feedback is encouraged and appreciated! Have a lovely day y'all <3