#she wants to be and be with them simultaneously

[olliewrites-stuff]

Happy.

The eerie feeling of eyes boring intensely through her ribcage made Djeneba twirl around to face the starer. Lips curved up in a bemused smile, she teased, “See something you like?”

Her partner startled, and Djeneba chuckled softly at their surprise.

A delicious flush rose up Greyson’s neck as their eyes darted away guiltily. Their left hand rose to brush the back of their neck as they mumbled, “Obviously.”

Greyson’s dark eyebrows furrowed together in a frown Djeneba always found endearing. It was a sweet moment until their mouth pulled into a deep grimace and they muttered, “You make me happy, okay?”

And there it was. That pesky feeling that popped up uninvited far too often, settling in Djeneba’s stomach, curdling her internal systems as rejection spread steadily throughout her body.

"You don't seem very happy."

She couldn’t prevent the words from slipping from her lips and landing on the floor between the two lovers, creating an invisible, icy cavern of dread. Djeneba watched Greyson’s shoulders curl inwards as they stared pointedly at the floor, purposefully angling their head to shield any facial hints from her gaze.

Fuck. This had been happening too often lately. Their individual insecurities kept barging into what should be the pair’s well-earned domestic bliss. Was this it? Was this a sign that it was ending?

Djeneba fucking hoped not. She’d even resorted to praying it wasn’t so. She never thought rediscovering her faith would ever be prompted by the fear of losing the one she loves; the one she thought she’d made her forever life with.

It all started about a year ago; Greyson developed this unnerving habit of becoming closed off and sombre following happy, light-hearted, and domestic moments that Djeneba loved. Their words would always attempt to placate the blonde, but the simultaneous negative body language made the verbal effort futile.

Djeneba had tried so hard to convince herself otherwise, but in this moment, as her veins iced over with the repeating memory of Greyson’s dour face just now, she admitted defeat.

She needed to know. She needed to know whether this was truly the end. She didn’t have the energy to gloss over these moments anymore.

Djeneba cleared her throat and forced out the words, sharper than intended, “You’ve got a funny way of showing it. That you’re happy.”

Shit. Okay, maybe thinking through the words before saying them would be a good idea. What a fucking revelation.

Inhaling deeply, the blonde tried again, “That’s not how I meant to word my thoughts. I’m sorry.”

Greyson froze. They still refused to angle their face into view, but Djeneba could tell they were listening. Good.

“Grey, I - I feel like you don’t love me anymore.”

Deep brown curls bobbed erratically as Greyson’s head flung up sharply. Sage eyes were wide and fearful as they finally targeted Djeneba’s face.

“And - And, I know, okay? I know you tell me with your words. You tell me you love me. You tell me you’re happy, but your body says otherwise. I can’t remember the last time you said either of those strings of words without a fucking grimace on your face.”

God, she couldn’t say this while looking at the face she was already grieving. Djeneba closed her eyes as defiant tears began their long trek down her face.

“Fuck, Grey, it looks like it physically hurts you to love me! Or to say you love me - whatever. And I can’t do this anymore. I love you! And whether you think you love me or not anymore, I refuse to keep hurting you. Even if you do still love me, I refuse to continue this if it makes you unhappy,” she sobbed wetly.

Djeneba wiped her dripping eyes and nose with her sleeve, far beyond caring about insignificant bullshit like social decency.

“I love our life together, Greyson. I love you! So much. And other than you fucking grimacing whenever you tell me you love me or that you’re happy, I’m happy. I’m willing to work through whatever, as long as we’re together. I want to spend my life with you! I just - my one and only exception to all this is if you’re unhappy in our relationship. If you’re unhappy with me, with us. I - I don’t expect either of us to be happy all the time. We’re both mentally ill; we know the struggle; but up until recently, we’ve never been the cause of unhappiness, you know? It was always us surviving through all the unhappiness life throws at us, together… You’re not happy, Grey. I can see it. You’re not happy with me. I make you unhappy. And I can’t - I can’t do that to you. I can’t do that to me. To us…”

Suddenly exhausted, Djeneba hung her head. Opening her blurry eyes, she stared despairingly at Greyson.

“Please be honest with me, Grey. Do I make you unhappy?”

Greyson's fingers dug firmly into the faded blue couch cushion they sat on. Djeneba watched as their arms began to tremble and their head hung down low between their sharp shoulder blades. At the sound of a heaving sob, Djeneba wrapped her arms around her own torso harshly and sat down on the single red armchair parallel to her partner.

Deep, wracking sobs ripped themselves from Greyson’s throat as they began to cry earnestly. Haunting wails spilled as they began to hyperventilate and rip their hands through their hair. This harrowing soundtrack filled the living room of their home; the same one Djeneba had carried Greyson over the threshold of, while the pair of them cackled joyfully. The same house they’d hosted their first through fifth family Christmases in. The same house that currently housed the engagement ring Djeneba had hidden in a false bottom of her desk drawer. The house they’d discussed future children in.

Each of Greyson’s sobs reverberated in Djeneba’s heart. She feared that the ricochet would tug her heart from her chest, leaving it to fall lifelessly on the ground between the two of them.

Time passed in the mysterious way it tends to, although Djeneba wouldn’t have registered this if not for the eventual sunset transitioning their afternoon to evening.

By the time Greyson’s sobs came to a trembling stop, Djeneba could see stars outside the living room window. She heard their initial failed attempts to get words out between silent tears and continued to wait.

Finally, Greyson’s voice grew to replace the lingering echo of their prior weeping, "I am happy.”

They laughed wetly, seemingly realising how ludicrous the words sounded.

“I am. I have been, for a while, even. So something terrible has to happen soon, right? To even it all out. I don't just get to be happy."

Djeneba frowned. This train of thought wasn’t new, not for Greyson. But to try and use it now?

Well, it felt like a weak excuse to avoid accepting the truth.

Isn’t it funny how weak excuses can hurt the most?

The brunette powered on desperately, “The fact you make me happy, so happy, fucking terrifies me. It’s like the universe is taunting inevitable heartbreak above my head whenever you dare to do something as stupid and fucking generous as loving me. And… And the longer we’re together; the more you become a stable and certain thing in my life, the more I fear the end. I love you so fucking much, Djeneba. And I feel how much you, miraculously, love me. You make me happy. I am happy. There’s just - there’s a part of me that refuses to acknowledge that this happiness can coexist with my internal, ingrained belief that I am fundamentally unlovable. That all of this will end.”

Lips pursed, Djeneba squared her jaw. None of this was new. She’d been hearing this same speech from them since the pair were in high school together. She felt like a fool for expecting anything different. For expecting any real response.

She thought Greyson knew her better than this. That they knew better than to hide behind the same, unchanging excuse they’ve used for years.

Yes, it was true. Djeneba knew, and had known, that Greyson struggled with this. They’d had numerous conversations about it. Talked through it. Talked about communicating clearly. Fuck, she’d actively worked to force words out when her rejection sensitive dysphoria threatened to stop her voice entirely. She’d worked so hard to communicate with the one she loved. To evolve. To put effort into their longevity together.

…And Greyson dared to hide behind the same fucking excuse they’d had since they were 16.

Djeneba smoothed her jeans firmly and stood up. Ignoring Greyson’s owlish eyes, she sighed dejectedly.

“I don’t know why I expected anything different.”

She walked over to the key dish by the front door, patting her pocket for her phone and wallet as she slipped on her slides.

Turning one last time to face the love of her life, Djeneba spoke monotonously, “When you’re ready to actually talk to me and be honest, we can arrange a public place to meet. I’m going to my sister’s. Your engagement ring’s in the third desk drawer, by the way. I don’t care what you do with it. It was never meant for me.”

She closed the front door firmly behind her, thanking God it was raining.

© O.M.A

"You don't seem very happy."

"I am happy. I am. I have been, for a while, even. So something terrible has to happen soon, right? To even it all out. I don't just get to be happy."

[jeonstellate]

the ghost of aegis

kimi protected his daughter’s right to choose — only for her to choose what he indirectly kept her from.

ᯓ★ kimi räikkönen x daughter!reader

ᯓ★ depictions of a protective dad; media reporters referred to as opportunistic vultures; brief mentions of retirement; ferrari (strategists) bashing; & mild language

ᯓ★ paragraph format — 4.1K words

masterlist

[pic’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

ᯓ★ italian word (y’all already know what) from google! kimi & yn mostly talk to each other in finnish, so all bolded dialogues are in english! as the ghost of monza & the ghost of legacy, there are no physical descriptions for yn.

ᯓ★ this is kimi’s pov for both tgom & tgol :D

ᯓ★ congratulations guys, y’all have officially made me care too much about räikkönen!yn. i’ll miss writing her, fs. maybe that’s why this ran longer than i thought it would. idk.

[First name] was Kimi Räikkönen’s firstborn. As the oldest, she admittedly had a way different upbringing than the rest of her siblings. Not only did she suffer through his initial cluelessness in parenting, she also lived through both the early years and the height of his Formula One career.

Amongst her siblings, she saw Kimi the least during her childhood. It’s not by a large margin in reality, but it definitely could’ve been more significant if not for all the workarounds he took to see her more often than his schedule freely allowed him to.

That meant she also went to the paddock the most. Her visits were always just long enough for her to see him, the closest people he worked with, and his team’s garage and motorhome; but simultaneously short enough to avoid reporters altogether. Those visits were definitely too fleeting for his liking, but they had to do.

[First name] wasn’t someone he was willing to dangle in front of the media, with them being the opportunistic vultures that they are. As much as he would’ve preferred if he could just hide her completely, that wasn’t a viable option for the long run. So, a compromise was made: The world got to know her name and existence, and nothing else.

He didn’t want to force the life he chose for himself on her. He wanted her to have a choice, like he did.

Kimi did enroll her for karting lessons as soon as she was eligible, but he also supported the interests she picked up outside of him. He never showed strong preference over the former, either, opting to give uniformed energy over all — even the ones that were obviously just phases.

The privacy from the limelight gave [first name] the freedom to be herself. She was able to explore plausible career options without external pressure to follow his footsteps.

For a time, his daughter seemed like she’d pursue a similar path. Until she changed her mind and decided on Mechanical Engineering.

"I just want to keep karting as a hobby," [first name] shrugged in response to a question he didn’t even get to vocalize after she offhandedly mentioned her university applications.

There was really no room for arguments there. Not that he would, because her decision also meant he didn’t have to worry about her potentially crashing in Formula One speed. "Why Mechanical Engineering?"

Kimi knew better than to expect a thorough answer. "Just because."

He accepted the non-answer as it was. As long as it was what his daughter wanted, he had no problem supporting her through it.

[First name]’s last visit to the paddock — which was still as short and fleeting as before — after a long while was during his last race before his retirement. It was right around the tail end of her first year’s first trimester and she pulled all the strings to be in Abu Dhabi for that weekend despite her exams. Kimi had hope for a better result for his last Formula One race, but spending time with his firstborn after a trimester of not seeing her around had been the highlight of his weekend then.

A part of him assumed that’d be her last visit to the paddock. Definitely not her last time in a circuit to watch a race in person, but certainly the last time she’d have a VIP Access pass or a paddock pass around her neck. After all, her classes were just going to get harder from that point on. Plus, she hadn’t given any indication of wishing to support her remaining uncles on the grid like she supported him, either.

As far as Kimi’s aware, [first name] had survived being subjected to paddock intrigue with no reporter or media sightings. She merely remained as the first name to ever grace his helmets throughout his long Formula One career.

Unfortunately, his previous assumption was proven to be too early to call. For his firstborn decided to snatch a ticket to the grand prix at the circuit 22.9 kilometers away from her university as soon as she heard about Sebastian’s retirement.

"How much did you buy it for?"

[First name] didn’t look up to the laptop camera when she replied. Her eyes stayed glued down on whatever she was writing on. "Not telling."

That was enough for him to gauge the price. "Princess," her endearment was laced with a hint of disappointment it didn’t usually have. "I could’ve gotten you a pass for free."

"I want to surprise Uncle Seb," she shrugged.

"Then I could’ve contacted Fernando."

She took a minute to respond, preoccupied with punching numbers in her calculator by the sound of it. "I don’t want any of them to feel responsible for me, dad."

Kimi, of course, didn’t approve of that. He might be retired, but there no way he’d consent to his daughter roaming loose at the paddock without eyes on her. It was still a dangerous place to be at, in more ways than one. "Someone needs to know you’ll be there."

Thankfully, [first name] didn’t need much convincing. "Right. I might not find them if they don’t know I’m dropping by." She paused, seemingly contemplating. "I’ll message them later tonight."

He messaged them as well after that video call. It was a bit ominous, but it had to do because he didn’t want to steal his daughter’s thunder in case Sebastian and Fernando read his message first. Take care of [first name] for me.

It did cause mild panic between the two, with Fernando questioning who’d get custody of his younger children and Sebastian asking how bad they were talking about, but it was nothing a quick (and vague) reply couldn’t fix.

[First name]’s visit to the Monza paddock started out predictable — or, at least, the way he hoped it would. She got to walk around without any interruptions — reporters paid her no mind, and the majority of the paddock merely dismissed her as one of the many drivers’ guests present. She geeked out about the mechanisms and engineering all around there, in a way only engineering students and those passionate about such things do. She also returned her VIP Access pass and replaced it with the paddock pass she purchased prior after she spent enough time with her uncles.

It was a success, as far as Sebastian and Fernando were concerned. [First name] seemed to share their sentiments, when she gave him her version of her Monza escapades the next time they video called after that weekend.

Kimi would like to think so, too, since it notably loosened the tension on his daughter’s shoulders. He was even willing to look past the unideal fact that more of the current grid now knew about [first name], because they played a part in making her weekend then somehow.

As far as he was aware, based on the reports he received from both Sebastian and Fernando, there were four people in the current grid that now knew about [first name]’s existence.

Lance and Esteban were the only ones who recognize her as Sebastian and Fernando’s shared niece. (He hadn’t been privy to the introduction either man used, but he’d assume they vaguely referred to him as a ‘common family friend’ to maintain the anonymity out of habit.) Charles and Carlos, on the other hand, were the only ones who know of her parentage. (Apparently, Charles was there when she sprinted from the Alpine motorhome to the garage where her uncles were. He had to tell someone to relieve himself of the shock, and his teammate had been the best choice.) The rest of the grid were none the wiser about the ‘[first name]’ on their former grid mate’s helmets breathing the same air as them.

Unfortunately, there was one thing he couldn’t look past about his daughter’s weekend at Monza. It was the detail Sebastian and Fernando purposely saved for last in their reports. Little Princess has a crush.

At first, he didn’t believe it. [First name] hadn’t gotten a crush since she entered high school. He knew that for certain, because he was obviously his daughter’s favorite — and she happened to tell him everything since she learned how to talk. She had mentioned being acquainted with Lance, Esteban, and the two Ferrari drivers; but never anyone who caught her eye in Monza.

However, Sebastian and Fernando made compelling arguments.

VET: [First name] zoomed on feet.

VET: ZOOMED.

ALO: I didn’t know she could go that fast outside a kart.

It wasn’t necessarily the news of her running fast that he found compelling. She had run toward him at top speed for years, notably whenever she won a karting race (which she always entered under a pseudonym). It was the news of her running fast because of a boy— because she wanted to know a boy’s name. She hadn’t done that before.

Kimi was slightly inclined to believe it. Unfortunately, the desire to deny was way stronger. Especially when he considered the fact that [first name] literally ran away from whoever that was.

[First name], much to Kimi’s interest, went back to the Monza paddock the following year. That time, however, she made sure to inform him beforehand; before she asked Fernando if it was alright to visit him prior to the race and before she purchased her ticket. A parcel with a VIP Access code and Aston Martin merch was promptly delivered to her university apartment’s address, but only the former saw the Monza sunshine.

ALO: Why did your daughter show up in your Ferrari merch when I sent her Aston Martin ones to wear?

RAI: They’re in the laundry.

‘Take care of [first name]’ went without saying that time around. Frankly, he was relieved he didn’t have to say it explicitly. His daughter was a number past eighteen now, and ergo had been a legal adult for more years than he wanted to admit, so a word about being overprotective would’ve definitely been said if the other circumstance was the case.

Not that he would mind, of course. Being so was . . . appropriate, for the lack of a better term, given that she’d remain his little girl — his baby — no matter how old she got.

And certainly no matter who caught her attention.

ALO: [First name] went to see him again.

VET: Who?

ALO: Her crush.

VET: Oh?

VET: How did it go?

ALO: She ran out again.

RAI: Did she get his name?

ALO: No.

ALO: Didn’t give her name, either.

In all honesty, Kimi didn’t care about who [first name]’s crushes were. One distinct detail for each was enough to identify them whenever they came up in conversations. He wouldn’t bother knowing their names, even if her crush on them lasted longer than the others. It was all a matter of principle. As long as their mere existence made her happy and motivated, he had no need to care about who they were and where they lived.

For the newest one though, he was seriously considering breaking that self-imposed rule. Because, against all odds (i.e., [first name] rarely going to the paddock), she saw him and developed a crush. And, to make matters worse, she saw him at the one place he thought she was finally free from: The paddock.

The paddock housed a lot of different characters. Subjectively, he would much prefer it if her crush was someone out of the limelight. Maybe one of the newly hired engineers, interns, or personnels. Hopefully not a driver, because he’d be beside himself with the mere thought.

But, alas. The name that followed his personal inquiry when he let his curiosity get to the best of him was all too familiar.

Oscar Piastri. McLaren, 81.

[First name], Kimi’s darling daughter, did have a crush on a Formula One driver.

[First name] never brought Oscar Piastri up, no matter how long Kimi waited — nor how many times he gave her the opportunity to. Even a mention of having a new crush was nowhere to be heard, not even in passing or blurted nonchalant confessions.

Kimi was frankly more intrigued about her latest crush because of that. He already acknowledged Oscar Piastri was different than the rest because he was an F1 driver, but he was also curious why the latter prompted a different treatment. What happened in the paddock that Oscar Piastri hadn’t gotten an introduction like everyone else before him?

Apart of him suspected it had something to do with Oscar Piastri being her first crush in adulthood. He didn’t like that idea, however, because of its potential implications — which included the chance that [first name] was simply outgrowing her habit of telling him everything.

He had known that that time would come eventually. He just hadn’t prepared for ‘eventually’ to mean ‘now.’

He supposed he should still be thankful that the change in boundaries didn’t mean he would hear nothing about what [first name] had been up to lately from her directly. Rather, he’d still do for some — just for very selected moments.

"Dad," [first name] called his attention after she conversed with her siblings before they disappeared for their night baths. "What do you think of me interning for F1?"

"For the FIA?"

"No, for one of the teams," she clarified.

That intrigued him more than the possibility of his daughter working directly for the FIA. "Which team?"

"I’m not sure yet, but definitely not one of your old teams," she answered thoughtfully. "So no Sauber, McLaren, Ferrari, or Alpine."

"I didn’t race for Alpine."

She dismissed his correction, "Technicalities."

Kimi’s eyes softened. It still felt like yesterday when [first name] first sat in the cockpit of his F1 car at five years old, which ultimately gave rise to her karting career. She might’ve given it up in favor of pursuing a more stable career, but his influence on her was definitely still there.

"Include them in your list, too," he eventually chose to say next. "You never know."

His daughter didn’t argue, but it did take her awhile to see merit in his suggestion. "I suppose."

It was quite too late when Kimi realized he essentially just gave her permission to pursue her crush by encouraging her to apply for an internship at McLaren.

[First name] didn’t always have time to watch races between her classes, part-time job, and endless to-do list. Thus, she often watch recordings of the ones she missed whenever she was back home for breaks. Rather than asking her which races she missed, however, Kimi opted to save every race recording on the TV instead.

Watching them back wasn’t an exclusive ‘them’ bonding activity, but it still felt like it somehow since they were usually the only ones to finish them all the way through.

"You’ve rewatched some already?" [First name] blurted from her spot on the couch when he re-entered the living room with snacks.

He opted to join her on the couch first before responding, "Yeah."

He considered saying more than that, but an elaboration called for omissions. After all, not all of those rewatches were done in honest forgetfulness, but also in critical eyes for one specific driver.

He wouldn’t mind telling her that he had been watching Oscar Piastri’s performance (including his onboards) and interviews had she opened up about her new crush. There was nothing wrong with what he had done, as he never went beyond observing him in Formula One. What he did see an issue with, however, was freaking out his daughter by sharing his observations and subsequent conclusion when she hadn’t even said a word about him.

RAI: Piastri’s good.

Thankfully, [first name] didn’t question his response. "Would you still rewatch with me?"

Kimi looked at her like she just asked an absurd question as he handed her favorite snack over. "Of course."

VET: Is that a seal of approval?

[First name] ended up finishing a bag and a half in the first race alone, since she was stressing about Ferrari’s questionable strategy — or lack thereof — the entire time.

[First name] went back to the Monza paddock for the third year in a row. By that point, Kimi was already half-expecting her to — and was not even a tad surprised when she told him about her intentions.

Yet, still, that didn’t mean her latest visit was void of any surprises. For Fernando’s triumphant update of Little Princess has finally been acquainted with Papaya boy was eventually followed by a call.

It was [first name].

"Princess, are you alright?" Kimi asked worriedly as soon as he picked up. In the three years she visited the Monza paddock, that marked the first time she called on a race day. For the first two years, she had saved all her stories about her paddock trip for the following week — or whenever she had the time to call next. So, for her to call a couple hours after the race broadcast ended . . . "Are you hurt?"

"I’m okay, dad." [First name]’s response provided an immense sense of relief. He almost audibly exhaled. "I’m on the train back to Milan. I got something to eat at the station."

He voiced his approval. His daughter often forwent eating in favor of finishing something for school, so he was glad to hear she actually grabbed dinner for once. "Let me know when you get back to your apartment."

His daughter merely made a noise of acknowledgement before swaying the conversation. "Uncle Nando told me something interesting earlier."

He found himself a comfortable spot to sit, unsure with how long the conversation would take. "What did he tell you?"

"He said you’ve known that I have a crush on a McLaren driver for years."

Kimi nodded to himself, despite their call being merely audio. He supposed it was about time he come clean about keeping a watchful eye on Oscar Piastri. "I didn’t believe him and Sebastian until last year."

The following silence made him reconsider, however. Especially when it was ultimately broken by a sigh on the other end. "I didn’t want to tell you yet."

"You don’t have to tell me now," he assured her before she could say anything else.

"But, dad, you already know."

"And?" He challenged, almost dismissively. "I want to hear a confirmation from you. But I only want to hear it when you’re ready."

[First name] took another moment to respond. "What if I take a while to get ready?"

"Then I’ll wait," Kimi shrugged — forgetting once more that his daughter couldn’t see him. "Simple."

[First name] chose Williams, in the end. She got a few internship offers from the current Formula One teams and, although she recognized one from the top would look better on her resume, she figured one from the midfield would be personally more fulfilling. That, and also because she didn’t think she’d be able to restrain herself if she heard the Ferrari strategists call bullshit.

Kimi, as he had done throughout her entire life thus far, just sat back and supported her decision. He did find it somewhat amusing that Charles couldn’t let go of the fact that she rejected the Ferrari internship offer, though.

Hearing her stories about her paddock shenanigans made one thing clear. [First name] belonged there. Formula One might still be far from letting women rejoin the sport as contenders but, one way or another, she had always been meant to be there. His caution might’ve protected her from vultures in her childhood, but it was never meant to drive her away completely.

It must’ve been her Räikkönen blood interfering with her calling.

Needless to say, Kimi was beyond proud of his firstborn. Even more so when he heard about her little rebellion stunt that she cleverly masked as an act of merely going above and beyond, regardless of her core intention for doing so.

[First name] had told him so many things about her internship. Not just the borderline nuisances she had to put up with from the drivers, but also the interesting things she learned. It was unsurprising to hear that there were a lot he didn’t know about how Formula One operated, despite being an active part of it for two decades.

His absolute favorite recap happened on a dawn where sleep was ripped from him by the ringtone he set specially for [first name]. Amidst the sleep-induced fog in his brain, he comprehended an excited "Dad!" as soon as he swiped to answer.

"What happened?" His reply came out hoarse with sleep.

"I—" Her initial response stopped short. "Did I wake you?" She paused, long enough for him to exit the master’s bedroom and head toward the living room. He could’ve sworn he heard her curse under her breath, but he couldn’t be quite sure. "Sorry, dad. I forgot about the timezone. Go back to bed. I’ll just tell you in the morning."

Rather than replying, he touches the button that requests for a video call. He only resumed the conversation once he could see her face on his phone screen. "What is it?"

She was still in her Williams uniform, looking as if she just got back to her accommodation despite her usual internship time ending hours ago.

"It’s okay," she shook her head lightly, clearly feeling apologetic. "It’s not a big deal. I’ll just call again in the morning."

"[First name]," Kimi pronounced his daughter’s name akin to the way he used to whenever he was exasperated. It wasn’t that hard to tell the ‘not a big deal’ was a lie. "What is it?"

Thankfully, his daughter did the wise thing and complied.

[First name]’s excitement was back in a blink, albeit it manifested in her eyes rather than in her voice still. "I have a new crush."

He nodded once, already accepting that it was as good a time as any. He had been waiting, after all. "Will you tell me about him?"

The sun was already beginning to rise by the time the call finished. He didn’t mind, partly because his firstborn hadn’t called in almost a month, but mostly because [first name] had the corners of her mouth slightly upturned the entire time.

"[First name], there you are," Kimi greeted as soon as he spot his firstborn entering the Aston Martin garage. The visit marked his first time back at the paddock since his retirement almost four years ago, and he figured his daughter’s ‘favorite’ circuit was the best one to make his first return appearance at. "Where did you go?"

[First name], in support, asked for a day off from her internship. Hence her deliberate choice to blend in with the huge tifosi crowd in tifosi territory. "Around."

"You left me with the media," he said, almost accusatory, as he watched her hug his former teammate.

She wasn’t amused. "I left you with Uncle Jenson." Nor was he, when she chose to return standing next to the person clad in orange and black. "Uncle Lewis and Uncle Nico were there, too."

Kimi didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he turned his attention to the person next to his daughter. It was Oscar Piastri. "Where did you take my daughter?"

He saw panic in the younger McLaren driver’s eyes.

He squinted his eyes into an almost glare, inquisitive and suspicious. He might be generally supportive of her crushes because of the motivations they came with, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was fine with seeing them — her and her crush — together. It was one thing to hear stories about the said person, and another to live through the moments those stories were made.

"Here," [First name] answered on Oscar Piastri’s behalf.

It didn’t help that Oscar Piastri was an F1 driver, either. He knew, firsthand, about the life and lifestyle that came with being one. So, naturally, his trust was in the negatives — regardless of the other’s impressive driving and generally likable public persona.

Conclusions were instantly made and, of course, none of them were to his liking — not even remotely. He returned his attention to her. "You left me to go to him?"

"No, I went to Ferrari first to meet Charles’ dog," she corrected. "Then I went to McLaren."

"Why did you go to McLaren?" Fernando inquired exactly what was in his mind. "Why did she go to you?"

[First name] shrugged, looking every bit like a relaxed spokesperson for the seemingly tongue-tied McLaren driver. "Tradition."

Kimi casted her a questioning look, but she merely held it with ease. Her expression remained unchanged and void of any potential clues. He had absolutely no idea what she could’ve possibly meant.

He wisely opted to not think too much about it, but not without sending Oscar Piastri another look of distrust.

[littlest-w01f]

Settled Down

Azriel x Reader

For @sjmxreaderweek

Sjmxreader 2025 Masterlist

Day 6 - Adventure/Home

Summary: The scariest spies the Night Court had ever had, you and your mate, brutal, sadistic and brought to your knees by the nonsensical babbling of your little twins.

Cw:

The brightly lit room reverberated with the eerie silence that always preceded your sessions. Your imposing figures, clad in a black blouse and skirt and adorned with menacing accessories, wings flared out dangerously as you looked down at your little troublemakers.

Your mate, notorious for his cold, calculating gaze, leaned against the ornate marble fireplace, arms crossed over his broad chest. His piercing hazel eyes bore into the tiny souls before him, as if searching for some hidden weakness to exploit. Beside him, you stood rigid, your jaw clenched.

The twins, oblivious to the danger their mommy and daddy posed, gurgled and cooed playfully. Keeping each other entertained by baby talk.

"Did you. Eat. The last piece of... The caramel fruit pudding?" You asked them, eyes narrowed on their hands dipped in said dessert.

"No mommy," They replied simultaneously, lie. A mischievous glint sparkled in the twins' eyes as they continued their innocent charade, sticky fingers leaving telltale smudges on their baby cheeks. Their laughter tinkled through the air like delicate crystal, a stark contrast to the ominous atmosphere surrounding their parents.

"Oh so you won't fess up?" Azriel came forward, his hands going in the pockets of his leathers, "Not even for this!?" He pulled out a tiny bat plushie, smiling innocently.

"Look who wants to play!" You cooed, as your mate waved the adorable plush toy enticingly in front of the giggling twins, little Rhys, as dubbed by the uncle who had bought them it. The babies squealed with delight, reaching out small hands to grasp the offered gift.

As they snuggled the soft bat, their smiles faltered slightly when Azriel's expression turned stern once more. "Now, let's try again, shall we? Who ate the pudding?"

The twins exchanged a nervous glance, then pointed accusingly at each other. "He did!" "No, she did!" They chorused, voices rising in pitch.

Azriel chuckled darkly, clearly amused by their antics. "Well well, looks like we have two little liars on our hands." He reached out and plucked the bat plushie from their grasp, tucking it away behind his back.

"You know the punishment for dishonesty around here," You added, voice low and warning. The twins' wide, fearful eyes darted between your imposing forms, realising too late the gravity of their actions.

With a sudden burst of speed, Azriel swooped down, kneeling in front of them, scared hands tickling their soft bodies. The twins shrieked in surprise and delight as Azriel's nimble fingers danced across their sensitive skin, sending shivers down their spines. Their initial fear melted away, replaced by giggles and squirms of enjoyment.

"Oh no you don't!" You scolded, striding over to pull Azriel off the floor by the collar of his shirt. He let out a surprised yelp as he was hauled upright, looking sheepish. "We're not letting you get them all distracted with cute tactics."

Azriel smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. "What, and miss out on the fun? It's hard to stay mad when they look this adorable."

"We're adorable mommy," Lisa, the younger twin, looked up at you with her wide eyes, bottom lip pulling out.

In response to her pout, you scooped up the little one, cradling her against your chest. Her weight was barely noticeable against your sturdy frame. You could feel the warmth radiating from her tiny body as she nuzzled into your neck, seeking comfort.

Lisa's brother, Rowan, wiggled free from Azriel's grasp and scampered over to join his sibling in your embrace. The pair clung to you like limpets, their faces pressed into your shoulder as they sucked in your comforting scent.

"Mmmph... Mommy," They murmured in unison, their breath hot against your skin. You stroked their soft hair, marvelling at how these miniatures of yourselves could evoke such strong emotions within you, babbling about how much they loved you, speaking in baby talk up at you, most of what you heard was 'Oo Aaa'.

"Aww, look at you three," Azriel cooed, smiling, watching you and your kids. "All attached at the hip."

You sat back down as your twins snuggled into you. In their young years, they had learned that if they softened up their mommy, they could get away with anything, "I scare everyone in a ten mile radius to me..."

"Yeah, well, you've got quite the reputation to uphold," He teased, his tone laced with affection. "Though I think it's safe to say those two have already stolen every heart in the house, including yours."

You couldn't help but smile at his words, the truth in them undeniable. Despite the intimidating aura you both projected, there was no denying the hold your children had over you. They were your world, your everything, and you would move mountains to keep them safe and happy.

"I suppose you're right," You conceded, gently rocking the twins in your lap. "They've managed to tame the big bad spies of Night Court pretty easily, haven't they?"

The twins, sensing the shift in mood, lifted their heads from your chest to grin up at you both. Their chubby cheeks dimpled adorably as they babbled excitedly about something only they understood.

"Still. There needs to be punishment." You said with a stern look, reaching into the pockets of your blouse, you pulled out the threatening weapon, and the twins yelped, standing on your thighs as they looked at the frightening item you had in your pocket all along, "Time for studying, fun over, kiddos."

Azriel chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as the twins' eyes widened in terror at the sight of the feared pencil, meant for school work, and given that they had just started school, earlier than most as Illyrians did, they hated it.

The twins nodded at their punishment vigorously, still clinging to you as they attempted to hide behind your neck from the dreaded writing utensil. You smiled indulgently, knowing full well their theatrics only served to heighten the anticipation and drama.

Azriel came to grab the twins to carry them to their tables for the impending lesson. As he lifted them from your lap, they clung to him desperately, burying their faces in his chest.

"Nooooo! We wanna stay wif mommy!" They wailed, kicking their legs in protest.

"Don't worry, little ones," Azriel soothed, carrying them to the study area. "Mommy will be right here, keeping a close eye on us while we learn."

Once settled at their respective desks, the twins pouted, crossing their arms and turning their backs to face you. Their postures exuded petulance, but the corners of their mouths twitched with suppressed smiles, betraying their true feelings.

You watched them get busy with their little booklets as you poured yourself a glass of wine, dropping down beside Azriel, "They're studying and happy. Oh, another day of great parenting."

Azriel chuckled, leaning back in his chair and draping an arm around your shoulders. "Indeed, a job well done. Though I think we should give ourselves extra credit for enduring their tantrums."

You rolled your eyes playfully, sipping your wine. "Easy for you to say, Mr. 'Distract Them with Cute Tactics' over there."

Azriel smirked, running a hand through his messy raven locks. "Hey, whatever works, right? Besides, it's not like we didn't earn those sweet, cuddly moments afterwards."

You couldn't argue with that logic, and a contented sigh escaped your lips as memories of the twins' earlier affection flooded your mind. Azriel squeezed your shoulder, sensing your relaxed state.

"So, now that the chaos has subsided, what do you say we indulge in some quality time together?" He suggested, his voice low and husky with promise. "Maybe cuddle a while, watch the stars, just the two of us?"

The prospect of unwinding and reconnecting with your partner after a long day of parenting appealed greatly to you. You set your wine glass aside and turned to face Azriel fully, a soft smile playing on your lips. "The only stars I want to watch are right there..." You whispered, turning your head to look at your kids studying. "Do... Do you think this is how Rhys' mother felt watching us...? I never thought myself as meternal."

Azriel's expression turned contemplative as he considered your question. He reached out to gently stroke your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your lower lip. "Rhys' mom was a remarkable female, lovely. Strong, fierce, yet incredibly nurturing and loving. I think she'd be proud to see the wonderful mother you've become."

"I wanna go stab someone..." You whispered, resting your head in his thighs, "I've gotten too mushy."

Azriel laughed softly, his warm hand caressing your hair as you nestled against him. "Don't worry, love. You can always go stabbing later. For now, let's just enjoy?"

With that, Azriel leaned down to capture your lips in a tender, lingering kiss. As you melted into his embrace, the worries of parenthood momentarily faded away, replaced by the comforting sensation of your mate's love and support.

As the kiss deepened, Azriel's free hand slid down to cup your chin, tilting your face upwards to meet his increasing passion. His tongue danced with yours, exploring the depths of your mouth with a hunger that matched the growing ache in your core.

Breaking the kiss, Azriel's heated gaze locked onto yours, his pupils dilated with desire. "You're incredible, you know that?" He breathed, his voice rough with emotion. "My queen, my everything."

You smiled up at him, your own eyes shining with adoration. "And you're mine," you whispered back, before capturing his lips once more in a searing kiss filled with years of love and longing. Lost in the intoxicating embrace, the world outside receded, leaving only the two of you entwined in your devotion.

{General taglist- @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-angst @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @velarisnightsky444 @minnieoo @mellowmusings @daughterofthemoons-stuff @tele86 @thelov3lybookworm @romanticatheartt @inkedinshadows}

{Week Taglist - @readinf @thorins-queen-of-erebor}

[innorality]

helping tony stark blow off some steam ...

cw : french kissing, handjob, blowjob, reader is a swallower, kinda ooc/submissive/really lost in the pleasure tony, reader is a teaseee

a/n : suddenly got back into marvel even thought im team dc and turns out I reeeeaaally have a thing for billionaire playboys (looking at you, bruce wayne)

your marriage with tony stark was fun. of course it was, it's tony effing stark. but you can't deny that on some nights, when he's busy devoting his entire being to his work (which, you respect highly), you're bored.

you've been invited to a gala—nothing too crazy, the usual guests, fake smiles and business deals hidden under backhanded compliments. you still had some time before you had to get ready, and you decided to be a nice wife and make some dinner for your hardworking husband!

you didn't know what he'd want to eat though... bummer.

gliding down the stairs, you took a quickly glance around his workshop through the glass and saw him working his technological magic on some hologram touch screen.

entering the pin code instantly like muscle memory, you entered.

"there she is," he began and you smiled. "tony, sweetie," you walked up to him, setting a hand on his shoulder. "i got invited to a gala this evening—" "yeah?" he said under his breath. "—and I thought I'd make you dinner before going." he smirked without looking up, "how thoughtful."

your hand snaked under his jaw, making him look at you while pressing your fingers against his cheeks. "whatcha wanna eat, nerdy?" he chuckled at the nickname, grabbing your cheeks and pressing a bit harder to make you pout. "I'll eat anything you make me, miss."

you let go of him and he mirrored you, starting to turn back to get back to work but you grabbed his shoulder again, stopping him. "tony, you work day and night, don't you wanna rest a bit?" and just as you said that, a devilish idea popped in your mind like a lightbulb.

"baby, you know I don't have time to-" and you kissed him, uninterested in his excuses to keep overworking himself. your lips smashed together and it was deep, almost animalistic, teeth occasionally clashing. you nibbled on his lower lip and he opened up, letting you initiate a french kiss. your tongue snuck inside his mouth, clashing with his.

you sat down on his lap without breaking the kiss and his hands instantly found their way to your hips, grounding them against him. leaning in, you deepened the kiss, while simultaneously grinding down on him slightly, just enough to rile him up.

finally, he pulled away, looking more disheveled than ever and you could just eat him up. "fuck..." was all he could mutter out before instantly going for your neck and your granted him access, throwing your head back to give him more room. he started kissing it slightly before sucking it directly, marking you up at his. he nibbled slightly on the marks to emphasis them which pulled a low moan out of you.

"baby–baby, wait.." you tapped the back of his head slightly and he pulled away immediately, searching your eyes for any discomfort only to be met with pure, raw lust. you ran your hand down his clothed chest, and set your hand on his growing buldge, rubbing it.

"I wanna make this about you. you work too much, tony.." you cooed, drawing out the syllables of his name. he stayed silent for a moment, before completely melting under your touch. "gosh, I don't deserve you. I really don't." and you booped his nose, "of course you do."

you quickly pulled his cock out of his pants, stroking it slowly while keeping direct eye contact with the man and he's positive he's about to die.

your soft, warm hand glided up and down his length, the movement swift thanks to the amount of pre he was letting ooze out. "oh, yeah, that's the stuff." his hand snaked in your hair to ground himself, grabbing without pulling. his abs clenched and his thighs kept shifting beneath you, his breath hitching.

you kept an even pace, biting your lip as if to conceal the nasty words that were aching to fly out of your mouth, in vain. "look at you, tony.." you began and he's already weak. "you work, and work, and work..." you rubbed his tip with your thumb lightly and he threw his head back, a loud groan echoing out of him. "it's like you never relax, honey." you give his exposed neck a quick peck, "let me take care of you, tony."

"fuck–yeah, you do that." he huffed out, making you giggle slightly. just when it started to get really good, you unwrapped your hand and got off his lap, alerting him. he picked his head back up to look at you, confusion and frustration filling his eyes. but then, and he's thanking the heavens for it, you start to lower yourself, now looking up at him while on your knees before him.

you grabbed his base and he shivered, closing his eyes—he was bracing himself. you scooted a bit closer, kissing his tip and his hips twitched. another loud groan that came straight from his chest. "I really think I'm gonna marry you, sweetheart." he affirms and you laugh, his balls tightening at the sound. "tony, baby," you ran your tongue up his dick, "we're already married." and his cock twitched at that, before finally being welcomed by the warmth of your mouth.

you lower your head down his length, nose bumping against his pelvis. finally, he let's out a moan, and you perk up at the sound. "shit– shitshitshit-" when you start bobbing your head up and down, it's game over for the poor man.

you've done this hundreds of times to him, but everytime you do, it feels like the first time. your tongue swirled around him like a cobra fetching its prey. you hollowed your cheeks with expertise, constricting the wet walls of your throat around his head. that made him set his hand in your hair again.

he didn't control the pace, his head just followed the movement on your hand, his other one running through his own hair.

his moans started going crescendo, getting louder and louder than the last. closing your eyes, you went for his balls, massaging them softly which has him hissing. "shit, honey, if you keep doing that I might- ill– I'm about to—" and that's about the only warning you get before you feel hot ropes of cum jump down your throat. you pulled away slowly to feel his release on your tongue, aching for the taste of it.

you got off him with a pop! sound, sticking your tongue out as he grabbed your cheeks to inspect your mouth. "good girl, swallowed it all." he heaved out, making a cheeky smile appear on your face.

you got up, rubbing your lips to get the leftover saliva off of them. "I'm gonna go make dinner, okay?" and he didn't even have the strength to reply, his chest going up and down intensely—he was still getting over his orgasm.

he was definitely going to let you help him relax more often.

[allofnypeaches]

I love a lot of things about the hunger games trilogy, but by far my favorite part of reading the books is how suzanne collins manages to use katniss' unreliability as a narrator as an advantage that improves the reading experience instead of limiting the readers' interpretation of the facts. I think about how when reading other first-person narrated books I am always conditioned to perceiving things the way they are presented to me by the narrator, without me even realizing it, and how that - obviously - reflects how every story has multiple sides to it and whatnot. but the hunger games, despite having a very biased narrator, manages to paint us a picture that is wider than katniss' view somehow. I haven't fully figured this out yet, but I think it's a combination of the following things that make this possible;

#1: Katniss, although very young and at times naive and blinded by fear, survival instincts, propaganda and most of the time just sheer confusion because of all the information that is kept from her, is very skeptical of everything. she rarely ever takes things at face value (even when she should, like when peeta shows his feelings for her), and is always questioning, pondering the different motives behind things, the possibilities and outcomes of what could happen if x thing meant y instead of z. and yes, her hypothesizing is often inconclusive - which is very understandable for someone in her situation - but it invites us to question things and hypothesize about them on our own, and through context clues that she may sometimes miss or misinterpret, we are sometimes able to piece together entire puzzles of the narrative before she does, and that is simply delightful to experience, while simultaneously not spoiling anything either, because it makes us anxious to see how and when she will realize what we already know.

a few examples include, but are not limited to :

- realizing that Peeta is madly in love with her before she even considers that possibility

- realizing that Madge genuinely likes her, as well as her entire family, and that they're actually friends before she admits this

- seeing through Gale's words and knowing he has romantic feelings for her before that ever crosses her mind

- thinking that the people in 12 are definitely looking out for her and Prim in any way they can (with their extremely limited resources and freedom) before she gets suspicious of that fact

- realizing how much of a symbol of hope and rebellion she is to Panem before she is told so (that's the most obvious one though)

- comprehending her mother's reaction (or lack thereof) to her father's death before she can see past the resentment in catching fire

- seeing that Gale brings out the worst in her at times, and seeing that he's constantly pressuring her when she's already holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and how that makes him a bad friend, who, by the way, doesn't see her as a friend at all especially after the first games

- piecing together how terrible Coin is and how she needs to be eliminated just as much as Snow for the war to end before Katniss fully accepts that reality (she is the least oblivious to this one)

- realizing that Squad 451 don't actually believe that Coin gave her a mission in Mockingjay, but they're following her anyway because they want to, long before they tell her that

- watching her fall in love with Peeta, develop deep feelings of love and desire for him, while she is always either excusing it as something else, or too confused/oblivious/naive to see it

#2: the characters around Katniss never seem one-dimensional because of how empathetic she naturally is. because of how much she treats everyone like multi-faceted human beings as complex as she is, we are invited to wonder about those characters' feelings very deeply, and to interpret their actions accordingly, which greatly diminishes the potential for mischaracterization if the person reading actually exercises at least 1% of their critical thinking. this also goes for the system that she lives in, the culture she grows up in and the overall symbolism of things throughout the books. because of how well everything is presented, we don't need Katniss to tell us straight up how manipulative, coniving, dirty, cruel and tyrannic the government is, we can see this time and time again, in small and big things, from her odd description of things she's never seen/tried before showing us how isolated the districts are from eachother and how precarious their living situations are, to her talking about how traumatic her father's death was for her making us wonder if it was actually an accident. she doesn't have to connect the dots for us to wonder about the limited genetic pool of district 12, or about her father's extensive knowledge, where it came from and why he passed it all down to her, why he documented it in a book. it's like there is always a door open into the lives of others, into the things they believe in, into what the past of what that world was like, and if you're just willing to go through that door, the universe within the books greatly expands.

and that is all extremely intentional, too. Suzanne is trying to tell us that it is always worth it to look past our own lenses, to question things, to not be susceptible to manipulation and propaganda, to look beyond what we are shown and see the world, and the people in it, for what they truly are instead of always being limited by our own perspective of things. it's just so beautifully and masterfully written, and it will never stop being relevant. that's why these are my favorite books ever.

[goodqueenaly]

Was Kraznys a bit dumb thinking that his deal to sell all the unsullied to Dany for a dragon was a good one? What’s he even going to do with a dragon, realistically? This plot device always seemed a tad contrived but would be interested to hear your thoughts.

To be sure, the author very clearly portrays Kraznys as foolishly arrogant, almost comically exaggeratedly so (except for the evil he represented and embodied). Kraznys cannot refer to Dany except via sneering and misogynistic insults - the “Westerosi whore”, the “sunset savage” - while simultaneously lusting after her. Kraznys’ contemptuous assumption that Dany could not possibly understand High Valyrian provides satisfying dramatic irony for the reader, as Dany mentally translates each of Kraznys’ slurs and barbs while pretending not to understand them, all the while formulating a plan of her own.  So right away, long before the pretended handover of Drogon, the reader can reasonably expect that there will be some sort of comeuppance for Kraznys and the rest of the Good Masters, some way in which these evil men will ultimately fail through their hubris. 

It is also worth pointing out that it is Dany’s idea, rather than Kraznys’ or any of the other Good Masters, to (pretend to) sell Drogon to the Good Masters. However much the Good Masters may have wanted one of Dany’s dragons - more on that in a minute - I do not think any of them was necessarily going to suggest that one or more of the dragons was or were (or could be) on the bargaining table without Dany first saying so. Indeed, Kraznys urges his compatriots to charge triple or even ten times the price of each enslaved person, without quantifying what such a price might mean to Dany, while the other Good Masters suggest that Dany sell her crown or give a show of reluctant acceptance to her offer of her cogs. So I think it’s fair to say that neither Kraznys nor the Good Masters necessarily anticipated that Dany would offer one of her dragons, even if they were not at all displeased that she does so.

Now, I think Dany cleverly seizes on why Kraznys and the Good Masters of Astapor would leap at the chance to “buy” a dragon. First, on a more general level, Dany was by this point well aware that her dragons were spectacular, a wonder that had not been seen for well over a century (and presumably much longer in Essos). After all, I do not think it is coincidental that for the negotiation with the Good Masters, Dany chooses a Qartheen gown: her clothing acts as a subtle reminder of her recent celebrity status as the Mother of Dragons. What Dany is offering by putting Drogon (ostensibly) on the table is almost literally priceless - think of her half-teasing remark to Xaro back in Qarth, that the value of one of three living dragons in the world should be at least one-third of all the ships in the world - and so will absolutely end the conversation when it comes to Dany’s plan to “buy”, then immediately manumit and liberate, the enslaved people of Astapor.  

As for the second point, Dany herself thinks it immediately after the offer is made:

She knew the answer, though; she could see it in the glitter of their eyes and the smiles they tried so hard to hide. Astapor had thousands of eunuchs, and even more slave boys waiting to be cut, but there were only three living dragons in all the great wide world. And the Ghiscari lust for dragons. How could they not? Five times had Old Ghis contended with Valyria when the world was young, and five times gone down to bleak defeat. For the Freehold had dragons, and the Empire had none.

In the crumbling ruin of Astapor, the Good Masters cling in vain to the prestige of the long-dead Old Empire of Ghis. Their entire existence rests on the legacy of an empire which had met its “bleak defeat” at not just the hands but specifically the wings, claws, and flames of the Valyrian dragons. Now, however, the Good Masters have the last descendant of those Valyrian dragonlords, the only person with dragons in the whole world, seemingly willing to give away the largest and strongest of her miracles for enslaved people - people whom, the Good Masters surely anticipated, they could and would replace quite easily in the future in the unceasing churn of human misery that was the Essosi slave trade. This surely seemed like the ultimate achievement for the Astapori: they whose ancestors had been so roundly defeated by the dragonriding Valyrians, whose greatest city had been not just destroyed but deliberately uninhabitable, could now make this Valyrian descendant their supplicant, and have at their disposal the very sort of creature which had wreaked death and destruction on the Ghiscari long ago. (Compare, for example, the tapestry Barristan Selmy will much later see in King Hizdahr’s apartments in Meereen - showing “the glory of the Old Empire”, including “last survivors of a defeated Valyrian army passing beneath the yoke and being chained” - another grasp by an ambitious Ghiscari descendant seemingly victorious over the Valyrian-blooded Dany.) A dragon was not just the opportunity for martial domination such as the Freehold once claimed, and which now seemed possible to Astapor in turn, but a priceless symbolic triumph: the Good Masters simply could not pass up the opportunity to take a dragon from the representative of Valyria standing before them, and claim the superiority which Valyria had seized from Ghis centuries prior. 

[urfavrib]

Thursday is here and i’m making everyone queer

It’s thursday enjoy my Queer OUaW HCs

and some coming out stories

————————

Kremy

Bigender/Genderfluid (He/She)

Demi romantic and sexual

GAY HES A GAY GATOR

Kremy never had to come out really, but he was always very obvious

the thing that surprised people was the demi

he used dates to get what he wanted or needed

never really liked anyone till Garou

really never loved anyone till Gideon

——————————

Gideon

Bisexual

FtM (kinda verging on a variant of intersex except there’s magic and motivation behind it)

His dad wanted a son and even though he was born a daughter nothing like the magic of being the child of a genie

and it didn’t help gid hated dresses

no need to come out it just kinda happened

and the Genatics obviously just made him a guy

He didn’t need top surgery or hormones cause magic✨

He likes girls and Kremy and the king of hearts

that’s it :3

———————————

Frost

He’s pan

and agender

never says it never comes out

it’s just kinda a given

uses all pronouns because why tf would they care?

definitely polyamorous and does it well

he manages time well and can focus well on his partners both one at a time and simultaneously

———————————

Gricko

Trans Masc (he/they)

demiromantic

Asexual

had top surgery the second he could (it was totally botched but BANANYA!) he doesn’t have nips

he came out to the Krew in passing, like they were going swimming and Gid asked about his scars

“Oh these are my top surgery scars! They look awful cause the guy used a rusty knife”

the Krew had no idea how to process that and just moved on

he has a crush on Frosty but he’s way too busy being a dad(or fucking scarecrows)

———————

Torbek

He/Him

definitely questioning it tho

he’s very confused by the tones of labels

he likes anyone (bi with a masc lean)

He is interested in being a sex pest but he needs to know them (demi)

Frost is very very very appealing

Gricko is too

And so is Gid

And so is Kremy but in a very different way

————————

Twig

She’s straight (gasp)

she’s a she/they/it tho

The complexity of gender only gets more complicated when in the feywild

———————

Hootsie

She/Her

Doesn’t seem interested in anyone

She’s also too young to date per Gricko

She does seem to lean comfortably towards masculine expression but is very much a girl

She’s just Hootsie

[saxlochapologist]

thinking about the complete alienation combined with the lack of privacy the Ratliff children probably experienced growing up. from the way Tim talks about his 'measly $10mil profit' from the embezzlement scheme to the fact that they've never flown a commercial airline before, I can't even imagine how many staff members they had in their house growing up lol. Chefs, housekeepers, nannies, you name it. the simultaneous distance from and close proximity to a rotating door of staff is probably a very strange experience to grow up with, I'm sure. all while their mother tells them that anyone outside of their family is either suspicious, worthless, or just completely irrelevant. No one could possibly compare to the Ratliffs or live up to the standards that Victoria and Tim set for them lol. Like people are allowed to be close to them in proximity - close enough to serve them and clean their toilets and cook their food - but never close enough to be anywhere near actually knowing them.

And it really does seem like everything has always been all about them and their family and what everyone else can do for them and their family. I feel like this manifested in a very deeply held belief in all of the kids that their family is like the apex of existence. Rich people are sooo deranged, those kids absolutely grew up without many friends or even acquaintances bc no one they wanted to spend time with was good enough for them, according to Victoria. and I'm guessing based on her behavior in canon that she was VERY loud and vocal about her opinions on this lol. So....they just ended up clinging to each other and relying on each other for validation and guidance and support. I think that's why it's hard to characterize exactly what Sax and Lochy are to one another especially. Father and son? Mother and son? Brothers? Friends? Enemies? Husband and wife? Lovers? It's like they're everything, they've had to fill every role for each other bc if they didn't there would be gaping wounds no one else could possibly fill! It's so so so fucked up and deliciously codependent this is god tier yaoi to me sorry.

[blazinginsquids]

The Antler Queen: An analysis

In Yellowjackets, there are 3 characters that don the Antler Queen mantle. Lottie Matthews, Natalie Scatorccio, and Shauna Shipman. Typically if you see a pattern of 3 in media, it’s important (3 has always been a very symbolic number). When I see 3 different things being applied to the same thing, I think of it as a triptych. 3 sides showcasing different aspects of the same story.

The antler Queen as a concept is the leader of the girls. The one that represents what, currently, is their primary driving force. My theory is that the three girls who become Antler Queen all represent one of three of these driving forces that encourage them to survive. To further this, I also think, on a larger real world scale, these 3 girls are intended to represent different types of people who led humanity.

Lottie represents spirituality, Natalie represents community, and Shauna represents ego. I also believe Shauna and Natalie are intended to be narrative foils, with Lottie acting as a parallel and foil to both simultaneously.

Lottie: Spirituality

Lottie is the most obvious. She represents spirituality, a belief that there is something at play beyond ourselves, and that it is our duty to act as a servant to these powers.

Religious leaders come in many forms. Prophets, saints, sometimes even certain rulers, etc. These types of leaders have mixed reviews, sometimes genuinely using their influence to encourage faith and spread peace, others using their influence to encourage others to commit violence in the name of their beliefs.

Lottie, like these leaders, also has moments of both good and bad. Encouraging Van to take a bone for protection, while also encouraging hunts of the other girls. Regardless, by prioritizing spirituality, she is giving the girls a reason to feel as if they should keep going beyond just mere survival. As the Antler Queen, she represents the girl’s spirituality encouraging them to believe in powers outside themselves.

Natalie: Community

I’m going to label what Natalie represents as “community”. More specifically, she represents the ideal ruler. The one that puts the community first, the one that brings people together, bringing her people to a golden age of prosperity. Under her “rule”, the Yellowjackets were able to build huts, and domesticate animals. While this could also be attributed to winter passing, I think you could argue that, had they continued to have Natalie as a leader, they’d be far more prepared for the next winter. Natalie expects the best out of her community, and therefore expects the best out of herself.

I choose to simplify this as community because, like these rulers, Natalie acts for the community. They are her main priority. By prioritizing the well being of the everyone else, she keeps them stable. As Antler Queen, she represents the girls need for community, encouraging them to look out for each other.

Shauna: Ego

Admittedly, I wasn’t sure what word to simplify what Shauna represents. I considered self, and individuality first, but ultimately settled on ego. Ego is the word for someone’s sense of self, self importance, and esteem.

Shauna represents the second type of ruler. Rather than the ideal ruler, she is the more common flawed ruler. The one that power corrupts, the one that’s ruled by their insecurity and greed. The immediate assumption is that she must represent dictators, or fascists. While I do think she does to an extent, I more so think she’s supposed to represent rulers who, by the end of their rule, become something the people didn’t want in power.

This is how Shauna views herself. She goes from being “a warrior” (Her words, not mine) to a housewife. She centered her own interest so much, that she betrayed the people around her. Every time she defended an evil act, starting with sleeping with Jeff, she constantly expected less and less good out of herself, leading her to darker and darker places.

Not necessarily in Shauna’s defense, she has also seen the worst of the others. Cannibalism, worshipping, mob mentality, these are things she has seen the other girls participate in. She thinks these girls are no better than her. She expects the worst out of her community, and therefore expects the worst out of herself.

Like the rulers she represents, Shauna acts out of ego. Her self esteem is her own priority. While having the capability to be ruthless acts in the favor of their survival, she is ultimately oppressing the other girls, for example, telling them they are going to stay in the wilderness whether they like it or not. While it may not seem as if she represents the other girls in this time, they are ultimately dividing, separating from the overall community.

Betray each other if it means getting home, no longer prioritizing the entire community, but only the ones they “identify” with. While the girls act as the antithesis of Shauna, a more nuanced approach, she represents this drive in its purest, most raw form. As Antler Queen, she represents the girls drive to do what they have to do for their own goals.

[inquirics]

jungmin is an all-around comforting presence to come home to, there is no doubt in that. it never takes him any real effort to make callie's day better, even the ones in which she's so exhausted she's given up hope of turning it around. in contrast, jung is also the perfect company for days in which callie's done fuck-all, like today. fills her with things to do, duties to fulfill, gives her purpose in such a special day that there's nothing for her to feel but extreme gratitude. whines pitifully into his mouth when she's pulled up, can feels his other hand moving towards where her mouth previously was, moans in anticipation; loves the way jung's tongue feels in her mouth, but can sense every single inch of her body crave another part of his. her furrowed eyebrows and squinting eyes contrast the hint of a smile on her lips, and in route of being shoved back down, already opens her mouth. latches her lips immediately on his balls then laps her tongue around them, individually and then mindlessly all over. simultaneously, callie nods and hums in response to his encouragement, wants to give him her very best. she arches her back, ass perked up, in guarantee of a better angle to take the whole sack into her mouth as once, suctioning on it with a hunger to please — him, of course, always, but herself as a result.

he can just about see it, how callista shifts just enough. her head blanking out a little more to complete the cycle they've perfected together. it's obvious in the way she moans against him, feels the vibrations shoot straight into his core, making him harder somehow. watches her, enraptured by the image, drooling all over him, not thinking. just doing. feels pride swell up that he can always give her this. the space to do, instead of think. to be his. jungmin can feel the warm spit quickly take over, covering where his hard cock rests. moans when her nails dig into his skin, egging him on, making him roll his hips into her face. "good girl! always listening to me so well." when he can feel the front of his briefs are almost entirely wet due to her work, he smirks and tugs her back roughly. tilts her head up, throat fully exposed, before kissing her open mouthed. lines his tongue into the expanse of her, groans against her sweet taste, all the while his free hand frantically tugs down his jeans and briefs just enough to let his cock spring free. starts to stroke himself slowly before drawing away. "good girls get their prizes, as promised." immediately shoves her back in, pressing her nose to his balls. "keep going," he encourages, voice dark and cracked with heady arousal, his grip of her hair tightening. "don't disappoint daddy, okay?"

[cookieshapedrat]

I know Mr. Horikoshi intended for Toga to be read as bisexual—am not here to say otherwise—however I would like to propose an additional read to the concept of loving someone so much that you want to become them…

Clears my throat before closing in on the mic.

Pangender Himiko Toga, my voice echoes out of the speakers.

[inexplicable-lack-of-tinsel]

the relationship between mon and leida lives rent free in my mind because. it’s the way that leida resents mon for never putting her first, and is justified in doing so. it’s the way that leida rebels against mon by adopting the ultra-conservative traditions that mon hates, and thinks she’s committing the ultimate rebellion by getting married, when really the marriage is something mon arranged for her own rebellion. it’s the way that buried deep down (i think) leida does have doubts about the marriage, is terrified that mon might be right, can never admit this to anyone ever because she’s a teenager. a child, who is getting married for reasons she doesn’t even know of.

it’s the way mon, from the beginning, has chosen the rebellion over her family. it’s the way she sacrificed her daughter’s future for the future of the galaxy. it’s the way she would have done almost anything to protect leida, to stop her from being trapped in an unhappy marriage as a child just as she was, but not quite anything, because the rebellion has to come first. it’s the way that she’s both selfish and torturously selfless, and at every moment the guilt of it is tearing her apart. it’s the way that she watched as perrin literally gave leida away, to a marriage that she herself arranged, watched how close the knife came to leida’s throat, knowing that she may never again be able to protect leida at all.

it’s the way that their relationship reached its breaking point when mon gave leida the chance to cancel the wedding. because what mon wanted in that moment was for leida to assuage her guilt and leida refused. and what leida really wanted in that moment was for mon to reassure her, because even after everything she is still a child who wants her mother to tell her it will all be okay, and instead she was told she should want to escape. and she saw through mon’s offer, saw it for what it was, and saw that even in this moment mon would never put her first.

[welcometogrouchland]

ANOTHER SKETCH DUMP! Featuring more of me playing with lineless art. Batman reborn era trio (dick, damian and steph) I miss you...when will you return from war. Also featuring Steph designs bc I've seen ppl dissatisfied w/ her current look, some good mom Talia, and Jason Todd poetry club. Duke is confused not that Jason would start a poetry club but that he'd have such mid poetry opinions. (ID in Alt)

[burnishedrebel]

Lily’s gaze instinctively followed Trey’s hand as he trailed it down his washboard abs towards his cock. Whimpers started slipping from her again as he playfully teased her about going in the shower whilst simultaneously taunting her with his fingers. “I… what if you hold me… up… Daddy…” she managed to murmur to the idea of her legs not being able to hold up in the shower. In truth, the idea of being held by Trey and pressed against the shower wall, her legs wrapped around him, it sent yet another wave of desire washing through her. A mere minute later, Trey had walked them into the shower and pressed her by the tiles as she so desired. His questioning made Lily nod, even as she moaned concurrently from the way his tongue teased her neck and his fingers pumped her pussy. “Y.. yes, Da… Daddy…” she breathed, although his question about what else she might want set her mind instantly racing. She didn’t need long to think, and perhaps it was no surprise for Trey when she whimpered, “You… your… cock…”

@writermuses

Trey thrived on attention and control, and hearing Lily squeal and giggle at the ease of him picking her up and carry her around was already winding him up again. Watching her mull over his question, glancing between them had his cock twitching and he greedily ran his hand down his abs and stoked himself just to see if those pretty eyes would follow. "Shower, hmm?" His husky voice taunted her as his fingers slowly teased her sex. "You think those pretty legs of yours can stay up in there?" When she whimpered, his muscles twitched, eager to be inside her tight heat once more and when she wrapped her legs around his waist it didn't help him keep his head. Cradling an arm around her slender waist, Trey continued to toy with her as he lifted her again, walking them into the shower, pinning her against the cool tiles adjacent to the knobs of the shower. "This what you wanted, Little Flower, to get off again? That what you're begging for or..." His tongue teased her neck, sucking and kissing a path to the shell of her ear before he continued, " or did you have something else in mind?" Trey was eager to hear what she wanted, to get her to beg for it, and his rhythm picked up slowly just to see what she'd give.

[whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx]

Even More Agatha All Along Incorrect Quotes!

Rio, to Agatha: I’d jump in front of a gun for you <3

Agatha: And I’d move out of the way, so you’d just get shot like a fucking idiot.

Lilia: Oh, look, a hole. *promptly walks directly into the hole*

Jen: Why did you- *lifting her out of the hole by the arms* WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!

Agatha, clutching her seatbelt: YOU CRASHED THE TRUCK INTO THE GIGANTIC MONSTER?!

Teen: I THOUGHT IT WOULD KILL IT!!!

Agatha, slumping over in her seat: You are INCREDIBLY stupid.

Jen, texting Alice: I literally want to cry right now.

Alice: Uh…quick,look at these baby dragons guarding the houseplants.

Jen: …

Alice: They’re doing a very good job?

Jen: That actually does help, thank you.

Rio: You ever think about how many songs are secretly about sex?

Alice: Wha- no, but now I am.

Agatha: What’s it called when you commit arson on a person?

Alice: …murder?

Agatha: Wha- no, that’s not murder!

Alice: Yes, it is!

Agatha: Okay, but when you set yourself on fire, it’s called self-immolation.

Alice, sighing: I guess.

Agatha: So immolation is when someone is set on fire.

Alice: Yes.

Agatha: So setting someone else on fire-

Alice: Murder.

Agatha: But if they don’t die-

Alice: Attempted murder.

Agatha: But if you argue that you didn’t MEAN to kill them-

Alice, covering her head with a pillow: Fine, aggravated assault! Now leave me alone!

Sharon: I got peer pressured into getting into a trunk the other day. They were like “Do you wanna see what it’s like to be kidnapped?” And I was like “okay!”

Rio, in a dreamy voice: Maybe we’ll be branded as suspected sapphic serial killers, where true crime podcasts will speculate on the true nature of our relationship for decades to come.

Agatha, COMPLETELY drunk: If you’re coming in to judge me, don’t bother. God and my mother have it covered.

Agatha, in the middle of a struggle with Rio: You know what I would rather have in me than this knife? That di-

Billy: What does ‘no te preocupes’ mean?

Rio: Don’t worry about it.

Billy: But I wanna know :(

*watching a horror movie together*

Jen, leaning against Lilia: Maybe it’s just because it’s been a second since I’ve been a kid, but I feel like the kids in this movie have a LOT LESS common sense than I did when I was younger. Like I might have believed in some weird shit, but I knew better than to get closer to the clown under the bleachers, even if he said he could grant me a magic wish.

Alice, curled up on the floor between them: *shudders* I don't know how she wasn't screaming her lungs out.

Lilia, absently petting her hair: Well, is this before or after it bites her face off?

Jen: What? Alice, burying her face in Lilia's skirt: Ew.

[raineyraven]

just watched vide noir (2022) and i have to say the tragedy of a man whose love leaves him because he wasn't what she needed him to be, who through his journey to find her again became the man she wanted him to be so that he could get to her, only to reach her and find that it's too late to get her back, who grew and changed in his quest for someone who was always going to be out of his reach and he didn't know it until he'd undergone that change?? that shit fucks oh my god.