#sorry for the tags that don't actually belong here

[sunflowers-and-ice-cream]

where can I watch beetlejuice the musical??????

I just watched the 1988 movie for the first time and I liked it very much, but I want to watch the musical too and the site I used didn't have it. does anyone know where I can find the musical as well??

[good--merits-accumulated]

it's MY fic and I call the shots (eg: move aside pseudo-medieval gay romance. no more romance. Time For Brothers Who Kill Each Other Now)

[always-just-red]

Hi! Hope this finds you well. Saw the request and wanted to ask for a Yandere Sylus with player reader. Like Sylus knows Mc is a player and he is a game character. When mc was gone for too long, Sylus gets impatient.

If you can do it, of course. If no, ignore this. Wish you writing ideas and inspiration

Hi! Hope you're well too, anon! Sorry for the long wait on this one, got really stuck with it and wanted to make sure I did it justice-- it was such a cool idea! (Also I know L&D has the microphone feature but I wanted to have fun with the limited communication of the player here, so no it doesn't, actually!! 🥰)

Fourth Wall

Sylus x Player!Reader 🩸

Summary: L&D is getting more and more real with each update. This is a new update... right?

Genre: idk really?? real world player x character

Warnings/Additional tags: yandere themes, player!reader, gender neutral, fourth-wall breaking, non-canon, swearing, mild threat, possessiveness, manipulation, Sylus is a little OOC here (we all know he's a sweetheart really!!)

| Word count: 1.5k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Your phone lights up with a notification.

Sylus: Are you in a good mood, sweetie? The weather’s nice, so let’s go out.

It makes you smile, even though you’ve seen it before. You haven’t played Love and Deepspace for two weeks or so, and you’re already thinking about how many dailies you’ve missed— more specifically, how many diamonds you’ll be short of going into the next event. You had a couple thousand saved, you think? It’s probably fine.

The truth is, you don’t really have time for it these days. Escaping reality with fiction is fun, but it’s just that: make believe. Reality’s still waiting for you on the other side, and recently? All that escaping has finally caught up to you. You have a real life. Responsibilities. Yay!

But you are in a good mood, and the weather is nice, so you’ll log in for old time’s sake. Your finger hovers over the app, but something makes you hesitate. You’ve got some emails you should probably get back to, first. Oh— and weren’t you supposed to call your friend, too?

Another notification:

Sylus: Take your time, kitten.

A new one? It’s just text on a screen, but you’re reading it— Sylus’s voice in your head—and you just know it’s dripping sarcasm. Before you have any time to dwell on it, your phone lights up with more notifications.

Sylus: I’m going to count to three.

Cute. He’s not actually going to—

Sylus: One…

Oh.

Sylus: Two…

Really?

Sylus: Three.

Ok.

You tap on the app, weirdly motivated by the time pressure given that it’s coming from a man who doesn’t actually exist. He smirks at you knowingly from the kindled moment you’d set as the loading screen, his crimson eyes playful. You’re not particularly patient either, so your fingers drum along the surface of your desk as you wait, your gaze caught between his and the slowly moving loading bar.

Come on… come on… It finally loads, and you enter the game with another apathetic tap. Sylus stands, waiting— a dark figure framed by the otherwise light and dreamy aesthetics of the Destiny Café. You smile to yourself; it’s just gone lunch, and you half expected to find him sprawled in the usual armchair, fast asleep.

He crosses his arms. “The countdown worked, huh? What are you— five?”

You scoff and give his head a flick. He chuckles, running a hand through his hair as though you’d struck him hard enough to ruffle it. It’s kind of cool that you get some unique dialogue when you’ve not logged in for a while, although… have you missed an update or something? The animation feels smoother. More lifelike, now you think about it.

Sylus stares back at you, his lips playing into a subtle smile. His arms are crossed again and he tilts his head like he’s enjoying your scrutiny. “Something wrong, sweetie?” he asks.

Not really. You zoom in with a practiced sweep of your fingers so you can get a better look at him. His eyes flit downwards, over you— equally shameless— and then he’s meeting your gaze as he steps forward, closing the distance. He can’t see you, but you still can’t bring yourself to look away from him, and you’re not really thinking about the animation anymore.

He lifts a finger to poke at the screen, as if he’s caught you daydreaming and wants you back. You poke him, too: a softer, more affectionate boop on the nose. You can’t help laughing to yourself as his face screws up beneath the touch. This game is getting a little too real.

With a sigh, you zoom out so you can set about collecting your daily log-in rewards. Sylus seems fine— standing idly by as your attention drifts about elsewhere. He knows the drill. He can wait. Speaking of waiting… it’s also been a while since you’ve seen the other guys, and you’re struck by a pang of nostalgic fondness. You might as well say hi while you’re here.

You hit the button to change who you want to meet in the café.

It doesn’t do anything.

Weird. You hit it again. Then again— no change.

Sylus is holding his chin as he regards where your finger aimlessly meets the screen. It’s like he’s looking at… the button? “Oh dear,” he sympathises, “that feature appears to have stopped working.”

You don’t really hear him, honestly. You’ve never had a bug like this, and you’re determined to overcome it with sheer, stubborn persistence. Is it your phone? You test the theory by jabbing Sylus’s chest, and he glances down, apparently feeling it. You try the button again. Then six more times.

Sylus wanders closer to you. “You’re hurting my feelings, sweetie. Am I not enough for you?”

Ok but why isn’t this working? You’re still trying the button; your hope has turned to frenzied disbelief.

“Stop.”

A single syllable, concise as a punch and just as effective. You do stop.

Sylus’s voice is lower. Darker. “Good,” he praises, but he doesn’t sound happy. “Someone’s gotten bolder in their absence, it would seem. I do hope you haven’t forgotten to whom you belong, kitten. Although—” his smile is different than before— “I’d be more than happy to provide a… reminder.”

It’s an innocuous word but not the way he says it. Threats are just intimate promises and he toys with the fact like a crow enamoured by something that catches the light. He’s not going to grow tired of it for a long, long time.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, sensing you gawping. “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out? What all… this is?” He indicates the space around him with a wave of his hand. “Quite frankly, I’m surprised the others still haven’t grasped it.” He reconsiders. Smirks. “I misspoke— I’m not surprised.”

Does he mean the game? The other LIs?  

“Honestly, kitten,” he continues with a tut and a shake of his head, “you’ve been far from a gracious host. I’m not a plaything, you know. Well…” He’s showing teeth with a sneer. “Not the sort you can throw away, anyhow.”

God, are you really being scolded by a video game character for having other responsibilities? The worst part is that you actually feel bad. You do care about him. You wish you could tell him you care about him.

“Are you even listening?” he sighs.

Shit. Yeah. You can’t say anything he would hear— as far as you know— so you give his hand a poke. He casts his gaze downwards, stretches his fingers with a contemplative flex, then raises his hand so it can be nursed by the other. Is he protecting it from you? Or is he protecting you from it?

“If we’re to keep playing this game of ours, I think it only fair we lay down some rules,” he states. “Firstly—” because it isn’t up for debate— “you will come here every day, just like you used to. I have nothing to do, you see, and if you leave me to my own devices I might just have to find a way into that captivating little world of yours. So I can… investigate what’s keeping you from me.”

Investigate. Another innocuous word he wields like a weapon.

“Secondly,” he continues, nodding towards the broken button on your user interface, “you had better stop seeing the others. Ignorance is bliss, after all, and we wouldn’t want to worry about them connecting any dots, now would we? Besides…” He approaches you again, leaning in close. “I don’t share what’s mine.”

Your breath is caught in your throat and you’re so glad you don’t need to speak. You don’t think you could; if you tried to get words out they’d be unintelligible.

“So,” Sylus drawls, filling your silence, “how about it? Still want to play?”

This time it is a question, but only because he knows your answer. You’re struck by a flash of inspiration, and you communicate in one of the few ways you can— navigating the in-game menus until you can get your message across.

There’s a ping. Sylus retrieves his phone from his pocket, and after a moment of scrolling, he smiles. You can’t see his screen, but you know what he’s looking at: a grumpy crow with an animated bead of sweat and a dispassionate gaze to go with it. That it? it asks.

He still looks far too smug, so you beckon him over with a relax time interaction, watching your character’s hand outstretch on your behalf. He steps forward, linking his fingers with yours, and this animation you know. You tug him closer, except… he doesn’t budge.  

His eyes are fixed to where your hands are linked, and he runs a thumb over your skin as though he’s savouring the touch.

Did they change the animation?

“Oh, sweetie,” he sympathises with a click of his tongue. He looks up at you— holds your gaze as he presses a deliberately slow kiss to your wrist. “This is going to be fun.”

[snoopyracing]

wanna be yours 2.0 // ln4 social media au // part three

part one | part two

pairing: lando norris X american!reader / mclaren photographer!reader and slight pato o'ward X reader

warnings: swearing

summary: a remix of my fic wanna be yours in social media au form. or basically lando and the reader both being in love with each other but being too stubborn and scared to say anything so they suffer in silence until one finally crumbles.

contains: best friends to slight strangers to lovers, pining, angst, jealous!lando, asshole!lando, clueless!lando, and perhaps a little lando or pato? situation.

masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

may 26th, 2024

liked by y/bsf, patriciooward, landonorris and 98,520 others

y/n.jpg: something about an empty track the morning of a race (yes i was here so early that i got to watch the sunrise)

patriciooward: did you sleep at the track lol??

↳ y/n.jpg: no... but the gates may have still been locked when i got here. 🧍‍♀️

mclaren: missing you this weekend! -liked by author

user1: girl.... we saw that pic from last night...

user3: i'm feeding my delusions by thinking that lando is on the mclaren account commenting

user7: lando in the likes once again...god please let him comment again soon.

liked by patriciooward, arrowmclaren, y/bsf and 105,321 others

y/n.jpg: so incredibly proud of you today pato!!! you gave it your all and left everything out on that track. so happy i was able to come back and spend this week with the whole arrow mclaren family. always a special week and one i've missed immensely. next year is yours pato. ❤️

patriciooward: it was a bittersweet day. would have loved to win, but loved having you here this year. gracias mi amor. -liked by author

arrowmclaren: so nice to have you back y/n! you know you're always welcome!! -liked by author

landonorris: @.patriciooward you killed it out there today man. you should be proud.

↳ patriciooward: thanks lando!

user4: um lando in the comments... and commenting to pato... maybe war is over

user3: if pato and y/n don't end up together i'm gonna lose my shit

user9: still team lando y/n

may 27th, 2024

may 28th, 2024

y/n.jpg added to their story

y/bsf replied to your story

↳ girl.... is this lando??? i saw that tweet from the gossip page

may 29th, 2024

liked by landonorris, y/bsf, logansargeant and 285,650 others

y/n.jpg: the love of my life (everyone act normal please)

landonorris: the first pic.... you're lucky i love you

↳ y/n.jpg: it's a cute pic 🤭

y/bsf: FINALLY!!!!!!!

↳ y/n.jpg: did i not say to act normal?

logansargeant: oh thank god... i couldn't stand his moodiness anymore.

↳ landonorris: i was not moody 😐

↳ oscarpiastri: yes you were

user2: Y/N LANDO TRUTHERS WE WON!!!!

user4: pato and y/n :(

user9: there is no way to be normal about this.

liked by y/n.jpg, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 900,402 others

landonorris: the love of my life, my baby, my world, my everything.

y/n.jpg: i love you so much 🩷

maxfewtrell: thank god. didn't think you two were ever going to get together.

↳ landonorris: well sorry mate. guess we all don't have the charisma that you do.

↳ y/n.jpg: max and charisma do not belong in the same sentence

↳ maxfewtrell: 🤨

oscarpiastri: so happy for you guys! -liked by author

user4: this actually made my year.

user7: when does this get to happen to me?? i need me a man that's so down bad like lando.

user1: how did he bag a baddie like y/n? can you fight lando norris?

tag list: @daisyfreecs @mel164 @hurtblossom @the-untamed-soul @ameliaalvarez06 @ahnneyong @landotd @spideylovin @wobblymug @vizzzashley @urfavsgf @lunamelona @sunflowervol18 @kiwi43-81 @horneybeach1 @czennieszn @dontworryboutitokie @weekendlusting @deamus-liv @lexiecamposv @nikki1dxx @eggingamazinglove @folklorelover888 @hashcakes @sarx164 @misspygmypie @ziraelmtd @sarah-thatstings-ann @gnarlycore @plotpal @formulaal @tremendousstarlighttragedy @saachiep81 @alana4610 @kissesandmartinis @green--beanie @moodymoony71 @tvdtw4ever @lottalove4evelyn

[musical-chick-13]

Oh, Georgia, not you too...

[moondirti]

Hello! So not a request but a Dahlia thought: when getting to the boys place she's a little anxious but then she sees the perfectly set up spare room they just happen to coincidently have set up perfectly. And it's so comfortable and peaceful after a shit day and a equally shittier couple of months that reader just kind of releases the damn of tears. Which you know just inforcess that they are doing the right thing by taking her. It's for her own good.

PART 1 • PART 2 • PART 3 tags: simon x f!reader x johnny. alluded abuse (not by ghoap). kidnapping (but is it really kidnapping anymore?) pregnancy.

Their home is nice.

You don't know what you expected. Nothing bad, certainly – one look at their car and you guessed they were comfortable – but whatever approximation you rendered in your head didn’t come close to hitting the mark. Perhaps it was the remnants of your misgivings, then, that convinced you they lived in some squalid house off the side of the freeway. No one is kind enough to offer free room and board without there being some sort of catch. 

But it's nice. Spacious. Secluded, though not to a concerning degree. You pass through a quaint town in order to get to it, and it's only another two miles out, tucked on the outskirts of a neighbouring forest. A two-story chalet, understated and painted dark to deliberately sink into its surroundings. If you had to guess, it was the pick of the one in the mask; the style suits him more than the other one, you think. Elevated inches off the ground. Weathered cedar exterior, softened by time, and a modest front porch with three Adirondack chairs positioned around a bonfire pit. 

“Did someone else live here with you?” You ask, tucking your thumb into your bag strap as you follow them to the front door. The shorter of them throws a look over his shoulder, brows furrowed in an endearing way. “I just ask because– well, you mentioned a spare bedroom, and there are three seats out here. So…” 

“Johnny’s mum stayed with us for a while after his father passed.” The masked one says, unlocking the entrance before pulling it open for you. Your heart twinges uncomfortably in your chest, and you give a sad smile to ‘Johnny’ on your way in.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” 

He appears astounded for a second, gaze flickering back and forth between you and his partner, before settling in place. “Ah, dinnae be. Wis a long time ago.” 

You’re pleased to find that the interior is a lot brighter. Where the outside boasted a dark green paint job, the inside glows in a smattering of honeyed wood and sage tones. All open-plan; you can see the dining table and kitchen from where you step into the living room, brown leather couches serving as the only divisors of the space. You allow your eyes to rove over the walls, the plush carpets underfoot, up and over to where the lofted second-story overlooks the bottom floor. Large picture windows allow ample light to flood in, yet it seems to have the particularly concerning effect of illuminating how… empty it all is. Because apart from a strew of personal belongings – boots by the foyer, a half-filled water bottle on the breakfast bar, a coat thrown over the back of an armchair – there’s nothing to indicate that they actually live here. 

For all you know, they could’ve rented the car and the house to lure you in. 

A pit opens up in your stomach. You pat your pocket for your phone, then turn to where they await your reaction. 

“I didn’t catch your names.” You ask, cringing internally at how straightforward you seem. You have to remind yourself that it’s better to be blunt, to scope this situation out before you’re in too deep. If it takes playing oblivious, then so be it. “I’m embarrassed I don’t know. You’re being so kind, after all.” 

“Johnny. John Mactavish, if ye wanna be proper.” The Scotsman beams, stepping forward to take your bag off your hands, that which you tentatively. The other one merely stays still, peering out on you from above his fabric mask. You shift from foot to foot, waiting. 

Eventually, he blinks. “Ghost.” 

The pit deepens. You breathe through the nausea climbing up your chest. That’s not a name, you’re tempted to say. Tempted to take your bag back over your shoulder and call a cab. But it’s so early in the morning that you know you’ll have a hard time reaching one. And even if you manage, where would you go? Certainly not home. 

The callous echo of your ex’s voice still bounces around in your skull. It’s just a matter of probability. Risk it here with these perfect strangers, who may or may not be ill-intentioned. Or risk it back home, with a man you know only means to do you harm. 

So, you give them your name. 

(Just the first. Though that isn’t without its precautions, either; later, when you finally tuck in, you’ll be sure to send your location and the name Mactavish off to a trusted friend.)

Johnny’s grin widens, something warm and molasses-thick radiating from the lines it carves into his cheeks. It’s so genuine, so welcoming and hospitable, that you have a hard time imagining him as a bad guy. And however Ghost unnerves you, he’s obviously decent enough to have bagged such a positive force of nature. Decent enough to have offered you a ride, and a place to stay when you were so desperately in need of one too. 

It all tallies up in your head, sand on a scale that dips in favour of one side. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, or the pregnancy hormones schooling your common sense into accepting the two, strong men who have demonstrated their willingness to provide – but you’re quickly softening up to the possibility that this is something good without exception. A reward for putting up with so much over the past few months. Some reality where life isn’t looking to beat you down.

If only for the night. 

You blindly follow as Johnny gives you a brief tour. Their bedroom is just to the left of the living space, and he tells you to knock if you need anything at all. 

“Ye'll be staying upstairs, hen. Unless th' stairs ur awfy much fur ye?” 

“No.” You shake your head, stricken by the utter graciousness. “Please. I’m so thankful you’re helping at all. Upstairs is just fine.” 

“Promise?” He demands, eyes wide like a quizzical pup. Ghost sidles up behind him, large hand clasping onto his shoulder, right where his shirt's collar ends to reveal the base of his neck. You stare at that touch, that point of skin-on-skin contact, for what must be too long before you can bring yourself to respond. 

“I- Yeah. I promise.” 

Your room isn't really a room at all, but a loft as large as half the first floor. Three walls and a missing fourth, polished wood railing and opaque curtains offering a degree of separation from the rest of the home. It's all you can do not to flop down on the bed immediately, stripping down to your panties and undershirt before relieving yourself in the attached bathroom.

Despite the modicum of hesitation still planted in your gut – which you doubt will go away until you’re absolutely sure you haven’t made yourself victim to a pair of crazy sexy serial killers – you unwind at record speed. Surprising how easy it is when you aren’t confronted with the burden of your real life. When everything is warm and provided for. When your bed is made with crisp clean sheets, a homemade quilt folded neatly on the edge, and the outside ambience isn’t singing drunks but quiet. 

And of course, once your guard comes down, so too does your strength. A ball of devastation snowballs in your chest. Your sternum burns and your nose grows hot. You hardly remember to clasp a hand around your mouth before you burst into an ugly sob, fat tears slipping off your lash line. Only when a stressed hiccup seizes your frame do you become thankful for your sense; you’d really hate for them to hear you cry after having been so kind. You’re not ungrateful in the slightest, but already you prep yourself for the disappointment of returning home come night. A preemptive grief for the life you can never give yourself.

A chorus of morning birdsong and your own, miserable sniffles lull you to sleep.

if anyone's curious, here's the floorplan i used to imagine ghoap's chalet! (source)

[haystarlight]

What if mlp characters had Tumblr

🌟 smartypants Follow

I have a princess conference in the morning but that won't stop me from staying up till 3 am on AO3. Mama needs her bedtime stories

🐉 ogres&oubliettesenthusiast Follow

OP go to sleep or I will eat your crown

2,008 notes

🎈 smilesmilesmile Follow

All of you are like "would you fuck your clone?" hypothetically but, in practice, clones are too dumb to give consent and that's the real reason why I didn't sleep with any of my clones when I had the chance

🎈 totally-not-a-clone Follow

OP you still have a chance

10,000 notes

✨ great&powerful Follow

It's always "take off the evil amulet! it's corrupting your mind!" and never "oh! you look so pretty in your new amulet!"

✨ great&powerful Follow

Celestia forbid ladies do anything

102 notes

😏 sexiestvillaintournament Follow

🦋 Id-like-to-be-a-tree Follow

Um, would you guys please stop voting for my boyfriend?

🌪️ whatfunisthereinmakingsense Follow

I take it as a compliment

🌘 I-have-loved-you-for-a-thousand-years Follow

I am offended

500,467 notes

🍎 cmc-omc Follow

Y'all know how some families got a gay cousin and all 'em other cousins are straight? Well mah family's the opposite. Ah don't even think we got a straight cousin!

🍎 cmc-omc Follow

Mah sister says we have to assimilate other ponies into our family so the family name don't die out. She would do numbers here

5,667 notes

🌈 20%cooler Follow

GUYS I'M SO SORRY FOR THE DELAYS

I've just been on the hospital (again) cause I got zapped by lightning (again)

But I promise I'll update my Daring Do/Reader fic as soon as I can! Thanks for the patience, love you guys!

🌟 smartypants Follow

It's okay, take your time! I'll just reread the old chapters in the meantime

🐉 ogre&oubliettesenthusiast Follow

NO!!! YOU WILL GO TO SLEEP!!!

120 notes

💎 chicunique&maginifique Follow

"how are you so good at fashion" well you'd be an expert in fashion too if you'd spent 20 years in the closet

🔔 professional-theatre-filly Follow

My sister in Celestia that closet was made of glass

20,354 notes

🌘 I-have-loved-you-for-a-thousand-years Follow

Nothing like coming back from exhile just to find your bedroom was replaced by a whole ass forest

Some people have no respect for others belongings

☀️ cake.by.the.ocean Follow

I don't control the growing of the magical forest, bitch

🌘 I-have-loved-you-for-a-thousand-years Follow

Rude

☀️ cake.by.the.ocean Follow

Don't think I forgot about that time in 500 B.E. that you stole my ice cream

200 notes

🛴 the-agender-acrobat Follow

You can't hurt me I have mommy AND daddy issues I'm unstoppable

🌈 20%cooler Follow

OP do you need me to adopt you

🛴 the-agender-acrobat Follow

I would love that actually

1,554 notes

💎 chicunique&magnifique Follow

*levitates my cat out of the way so I can use the sewing machine, which I need for my job*

my cat: YOU LIFT OPALESCENCE?!?!???! YOU LIFT HER WITH YOUR WICKED SORCERY?!??!!!! YOU ASSERT CONTROL OVER HER WITH YOUR MAGIC?!?!??! OHHHHH!!! MOTHER IS EVIL!!!!!

🔔 professional-theatre-filly Follow

I agree with the cat

1,827,654 notes

🥕 Carrot-TOPING Follow

Girlfriend is out of town all week so I'm gonna dye my mane and tail green

💎 chicunique&magnifique Follow

WHY WOULD YOU DO SUCH A THING

🥕 Carrot-TOPING Follow

She's all my self control

364, 245 notes

🌘 I-have-loved-you-for-a-thousand-years Follow

Back in my day we tagged our fanfiction properly. There's a difference between / and & you rufians

☀️ cake.by.the.ocean Follow

Shut up old lady

🌘 I-have-loved-you-for-a-thousand-years Follow

YOU'RE OLDER THAN ME

30,150 notes

🩵 girlboss Follow

Sure, sex is great but does *your* husband help you check all your shipping fanfiction for grammar errors? Didn't think so

💎 chicunique&magnifique Follow

She's everything, he's just Ken

🛡️ malewife Follow

Happy to be of service 🫡

2,035 notes

[huramuna]

stoatfaced, dragonhearted - oneshot.

dark, mean prince regent aemond x wife reader

for my 200 followers poll, i've actually had this one cooking for a while so i'm happy this option won! this is absolutely filthy, i'm sorry in advance.

word count: 2.4k

i don't do taglists any more unfortunately, its mostly because i never remember and then feel bad about it so i've made a second blog just for reblogging my fics! @huramuna-fics -- follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!

content: slight dub-con, smut (specifics below cut), angst, mean aemond, toxic relationship, like in no way is this healthy, good god, smut with little plot, reader is described being from riverlands w/ auburn hair and brown eyes, no use of y/n, not beta read, i literally went into a haze writing this there are probably mistakes

tonight you belong to me - patience & prudence • vampire - olivia rodrigo

warnings: p in v, choking, breath play, dom/sub, degradation, creampie, cockwarming, orgasm denial, breeding, aemond is so mean here thats its own damn warning

Aemond knew what he wanted and the sacrifices that needed to be made to get such things. He wanted a dragon, it took an eye to get it. He wanted the Conqueror’s crown, it took his brother being burnt to get it. He wanted a legacy that would surpass his lifetime, etched into the very being of Westeros itself. The sacrifice needed for this would be to chain himself to a woman he likely wouldn’t be interested in.

That is where you came in. 

You were sweet, he supposed. Sweet in a way that made his teeth ache. Sweet in a way akin to a mouse and how it looked up at the cat just before his jaws snapped around the mouse’s head. 

He didn’t need to like you. Many marriages were forged in dislike or just plain indifference, set to a mutual goal. He supposed your mutual goal was children. All he needed was to use you as a vessel, a womb for his seed to take hold. 

You poor thing, you didn’t really understand that he didn’t truly care for you. You were nice enough looking, of course– hair that reminded him of autumn leaves, always styled in some intricate style with half a hundred braids, dozens of pins and decorative pearls. You reminded Aemond of a stoat, dark eyes against muted auburn fur, lips always pursed, sniffing the air in search for hounds on your tail. You certainly were a skittish, jittery little thing.

The marriage was a quick affair, done at the Sept two days after Aemond wore the Conqueror’s crown for the first time. You weren't a part of some major house, all of the major houses were too close, too greedy, their breaths hot against his neck as they shoved their wedable daughters at him. The last thing he wished for was to be indebted to some trivial lord who thought his name elevated him to the same stratosphere as Aemond– a paltry lady of some low house bred in the Riverlands would do just fine, he expected his Valyrian seed to dominate any of their week genes anyhow.

He had met you once before, many years ago before he lost his eye. When he was forced to tag along on some meager diplomacy meeting with his grandsire– he remembers it as being forced, but in reality, he wished to attend. What else was a second son with no dragon to do? – and you had been there, hiding behind your father’s trousers. You had been wearing a blue dress, he remembered this distinctly, as it stood out against the ruby red of the apple you had offered him. 

Aemond had tried to speak with you, but you only communicated in nods and soft noises– something you only partially grew out of. He never understood why he remembered this girl, as you were insignificant in the seas of faces he’s met over his life. Mayhaps it was your quiet nature that he remembered, something that, now at his age and state of mind, struck him as malleable, easy to mold into what he needed you to be. 

And so it shall be. 

–

It was about two and a half moons after your marriage, he returned from a late council meeting. Rubbing his eye, feeling the familiar thrum of pain right behind the socket, he was already in a particularly sour mood. The council meeting had gone south, ending in most of the lords bickering over one another like children. 

It irritated Aemond to no end, the strain of an oncoming headache ever looming. He still struggled with intense pain from his eye, or rather, his socket and severed nerves. The pain was debilitating at times and if anyone dared to test his patience when it was particularly bad, he would snap at them like a cornered animal, no matter who it was. 

Raising his head, he noticed the hearth was still going strong, multiple candles still lit in the solar, despite it being late at night. The now familiar crop of auburn hair was peeking from behind the couch— his wife was usually never up this late. 

“Why are you still awake, wife?” he asked as he took off his gloves, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

“… reading. I was waiting for you.” you murmured in your usual hushed tone, the sound of your book closing was louder than your voice. 

“I told you not to do that. It’s unnecessary.” he grunted in response, undoing the latches of his leather doublet. 

“I-I don’t mind it… I just sleep a bit easier…” you continued, no doubt twiddling the end of your braid between your fingers— an anxious habit.

“You need proper rest. I won’t have my wife looking like a sleepless, sloven mess,” Aemond chastised, discarding his shirt. “Now, what are you reading?” he was becoming increasingly irritated with you, feeling as if he had to force you to take care of yourself and unlatch you like a leech from him. When you looked upon him with your wide eyes filled with uncertainty and fear, he felt the overwhelming urge to wrap his fingers around your throat and squeeze until you passed out or mayhaps went limp, like a doll.

“Oh,” you slid the book towards him on the side table, it was a book on the history of Old Valyria and its language, usually used for children to begin speaking it. “Nyke j-jaelagon… naejot ēdrugon… va ao.” I wish to sleep next to you. 

Aemond’s brow furrowed. “What use do you have to learn High Valyrian, wife? Issa dōna ābrazȳrys mijegon nykeā notion isse zȳhon bartos, wanting naejot gūrēñagon mirros ziry daor.” My sweet wife without a thought in her head, wanting to learn something she cannot. 

You reached for the book, your comprehension not skilled enough yet to pull what Aemond was saying to you. Before you could grab it, he slammed his hand down on the book, effectively snatching it from your grasp. You pouted her bottom lip. “I want to learn… mayhaps it might bring us closer together.” 

Aemond scoffed, the sound sending a sting of pain right into the core of your chest. “We are as close as we need to be, little one. We are married in the eyes of Gods and men and we fulfill our marital duty by trying to produce heirs, hm?” He placed the book back on the shelf. “This nonsense of wanting to be closer is moot. I won’t hear of it anymore.” 

A glaze of sorrow flashed through your eyes before you got up from the couch, tightening the housecoat around your shoulders. 

“Come to bed,” he said, moreso as a command than a suggestion. “I know you are cold, ābrazȳrys.” Wife. 

You made a small noise of discernment, crawling into bed after him. 

He looped his arms around you, pressing you to his bare chest. He radiated heat like a furnace and was quick to warm you up– you were always so cold, he noted. He surely hoped that your children together would inherit his fiery blood and not the weak-willed, uninsulated Andal blood you possessed.

Aemond bounced from being indifferent to you, paying you no more mind than a maid or a whore, to needing you, every part of you. He didn’t see you as a person, moreso an extension of himself, latched onto his body until he consumed you entirely, your bones fusing together as one. To him, you were a doll or plaything to entertain him, testing the mettle of your will, to see if you were of poor craftsmanship and would break. He had always broken his toys as a child.

You could tell by the rhythm of his breathing, he wasn’t going to sleep just yet– you’d become very attuned to his moods, his small intakes of air against your neck causing your skin to prickle into goosebumps. His lips ghosted over your throat, one of his arms coming up to wrap near the base of your windpipe, not yet applying pressure, but the threat was there. 

No, it wasn’t so much as a threat than it was a promise– he quite liked applying pressure to your airways when you coupled, his lone violet eye centered intently on yours as they went from wide to half-lidded, soft whimpers of pleading to stop, sometimes for more, more. He relished in holding your very life in his hands and you let him. 

“Mayhaps I should get you a collar, wife,” he hummed, his voice husky and deep, reverberating deep within your chest as your heart pounded. “But I think you like my hands much better, don’t you?” 

“Y-yes,” you breathed, the small swallowing bob of your throat felt against the palm of his hand, causing him to grin. “... I fancy them– on my tender neck… between my legs…” you responded, feeling slightly bold at the notion you put forth. The heat of his body permeated your skin, warming your core into an ever familiar feeling.

Aemond all but growled at your comment, positioning the both of you to where you were laying with your back upon him, as if you were lazing upon him like a chair. “Feeling courageous tonight, are we? No matter, my dear, you will break all the same,” his mouth pressed to the shell of your ear, teeth nipping at your lobe. “Like every night before, and every night to come– your life is in my hands,” he enunciated this with a squeeze to your neck, eliciting a small mewl from you. “Is it not? Say it.”

“M-my life– belongs to you, husband,” you managed to squeak out.

“Not husband, not now. You know the rules.”

“M-my king, your grace,” you rephrased quickly.

He clicked his tongue in slight admonishment. “A bit slow on the take tonight, little one,” Aemond muttered, slotting his leg between yours and kicking your thighs apart. “Keep them open.” his voice was dripping with something between venom and sticky sweet honey. He felt akin to a God every time he was in the sky, every time he sat the throne with the crown on his head, and every time he rested his hand on your pretty little throat as he sheathed himself to the hilt inside of you so easily, so free of resistance. “So slick for me, just from the smallest of chokes– fucking whore.” he hissed, starting a slow, deliberate pace as his hips met against your bottom. The pair of you were like two threads, intertwined with his legs pretzeling around yours, keeping you spread open. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as he continued to bully that sensitive, spongy spot within you– but you craved so much more, feeling waves of heat emanate from your sensitive bud as it screamed at your brain, begging to be touched. You made the critical error, thinking your husband was too focused on his own pleasure to notice you going for your own, as your hand slowly descended between your legs, rubbing small circles upon your pearl.

How wrong you were.

His arm came up further, his bicep pressing to the bottom of your chin, his free palm slapping your hand away from yourself. “Are you truly fucking stupid tonight, wife?” he spat, stilling his thrusts. “When did I say you could touch yourself? Have I fucked you stupid already?” Aemond huffed in frustration. “My poor, dumb wife– you cannot do anything right, can you?” he slid you off of him, then flipped over to loom atop you, taking both of your hands within one of his, his large hand encapsulating your wrists with ease, trapping them above your head. 

You sniffed, tears welling at your lash line, threatening to spill– not just from his downright mean admonishments, but from your stolen gluttony, your pleasure stolen so close to the precipice. “‘M sorry, your grace,” you cried, “Forgive me.”

“You’re lucky you have such a sweet cunt,” Aemond mused, his immodest and downright sinful language going straight to your core as he nestled inside of you once more, menacing atop you like a darkening cloud. “I forgive you– and will even pleasure you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To come?”

You nodded fervently, your lamenting tears spilling over and running down your cheeks.

“I’m feeling quite generous, then– I’ll let you. If you beg me.”

“P-please–” you blubbered, “Please let me come, my king.”

A sickly smirk came over his face once more as he pushed forward again, not bothering with the slow and meticulous pace he had before. His hips slammed into yours as he surged into you, as if you were nothing more than a cocksleeve for his pleasure. And yet, and yet– his hand didn’t move to the apex of your legs, chasing his own high before he would give into yours.

“Aemond, please, please– please touch me, f-fuck, your grace– my k-king, please!” you were all but wailing now, half in ecstasy and half in pure beseechment, pleading for just some semblance of the lecherous, stimulating and lewd sensation that only he could give you.

He took mercy on you, the pad of his thumb zeroing in on your leaking folds, giving your clit a cheeky pinch. It was a delightful pain– that was what being with Aemond was, what it came down to. Every waking moment with him was thrilling, sublime, agonizing, unending torture– and you fucking loved it. 

Your mouth hung open, you were sobbing freely now, your lips quirked into a euphoric and maddened smile. “Thank you, tha-nk you, t-thank you, I love you, I love you,” you gasped, your lungs ballooning with air as you begged him further, “P-please, around my neck–” 

Something animalistic came out of Aemond at your request, his hand draping around your throat like a necklace. “My sweet, dumb wife– you don’t know what to do unless I tell you, unless I let you, unless I guide you to your release, hm?” he prostrated each word with a deep thrust. The combination of his ministrations on your bundle of nerves, the head of his cock callously beating into your sweet spot, and the squeeze of his hand around your neck– it was enough. 

With a garbled string of words, prayers, denotes of love, pronouncements of his prowess, his titles, his name– the coil inside of you snapped, lighting every nerve you had in your body on fire. You saw stars as your climax wracked through you like a tempest, the absolute vice grip of your core sending Aemond into his own completion, his seed painting your walls and then some.

In your fucked-out delirium, you thought you might’ve heard him say something– you didn’t decipher it until later when you were half asleep, his softened member still lodged inside of you somehow as he curled you into his chest.

“My love, my wife– I love you.”

[opossumprints]

You're Weird--I'm Weirder

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

POV Eddie, a part 2/continuation of this, now with part 3

Eddie has a problem. Like Eddie Munson, the person has a problem. On a psychological level. Normal people have problems like flat tires or going to the store only to find that they don't have their favorite cereal. But noooo, not Eddie. He just has to be different. 

Eddie is sitting on the floor of his room–which, to be fair, is a pretty normal thing to do–staring at eight pristine pairs of underwear. Odd, but not totally out of the question. The freaky bit is that not a single one belongs to him.

Eddie spread them out, laid them in a straight line, sat down, and wondered how the hell he got here. 

In theory, he knows exactly how he got here. It had started on a completely normal Sunday laundry day. The Munsons have a system; every Sunday morning, Eddie unceremoniously chucks his dirty laundry in a bucket, chucks the bucket into his van, and drives his sorry sleepy ass down to the town's cheap, dingy laundromat when the church crowd is too busy doin’ their thing and the building is at its quietest. 

The system worked very well for Eddie. The structure meant he actually got his laundry done instead of leaving it piled in a corner, and it gave him an excuse to get out of going to church with his Uncle Wayne. 

It's not that he didn't love his uncle; he just hated going to church (and the people at church hated him, so it’s a win-win scenario). 

The only problem came about Sunday, the 16th of February, 1986 (yes, he remembers the day, it's that bad). That problem’s name is Steve freaking Harrington. 

Eddie had walked in like normal, said hello to the owner like normal, and walked to his normal machine near the back. The day was totally and completely normal except for the fact that when he looked up, Steve was standing right there. 

Eddie had been so surprised to see King Steve in a crappy laundromat of all places that he had frozen mid-step and lost his balance. It also just so happened that Steve’s basket of dirty laundry was directly under his foot, and when he teeter-tottered over, Eddie stepped right in it and slipped like it was a cartoon banana peel. 

Clothes had flown everywhere. 

Eddie had been so preoccupied with apologizing that he wasn't paying attention to whose proverbial panties he was snatching. It hadn’t been until he dumped his clean clothes on his bed to sort and put away that he even noticed the pair of underwear he'd nabbed definitely weren't his. 

It was an honest mistake—one that anyone could have made. The boxers looked like something Eddie would buy: red with a black waistband, probably came in a three-pack with a matching blue and gray pair. 

If it wasn't for the fact that the tag inside read “Stevie” instead of any of the crude jokes Eddie labeled his underwear with, he probably wouldn't have noticed.

Obviously, Eddie couldn't give them back without risking having his face pummeled, so he shoved them in his closet, and that was that.

Or it would have been, but it kept happening.

From that point onward, every Sunday, Eddie would come back from the laundromat only to discover underwear that didn't belong to him and definitely belonged to Steve.

The real kicker was that he couldn't remember stealing a single one! Besides the first pair, he had no idea when and how the offending underwear ended up with him. 

So now here he is, sitting in front of a line of underwear and contemplating his life choices.

(And admiring his collection. But only a little!)

Oddly, each pair got, how could he put this, more…cutesy? than the last. The first pair is solid red and normal, but the second pair is a sweet and buttery pastel yellow. Pair number three is baby pink. Number four is the first pattern, a classic white with red hearts. Pair number five is also pink, but this time with pale five-petaled flowers scattered across them. And so on.

He can excuse the patterned ones as probably some sort of Valentine's gag gift. It had been two days before the initial panty pilfering after all.   Not that he needs excuses for the pattern of boxers he doesn't own. What he has no excuse for is pair number eight. 

Pair number eight is made out of silk and lace, the color of bittersweet nightshade. They have Stevie written on the label like all the others. They’re teeny and sweet and most definitely lingerie. And they're driving Eddie up a wall!

Not even for the normal reasons! Most dudes like Eddie would be losing their minds because they stole lingerie from their crush, but the thing that's bugging Eddie is that there is no possible way he’s the one who stole them. 

Eddie was extra careful today. He kept his head down, and he chose a machine further away from Steve, he didn't even talk to the guy. 

(Steve had come over to talk to him since Eddie's grand spill. The first time it happened, Eddie was fully prepared to meet his maker, only for Steve to ramble out apologies rapid fire. It turns out that Steve had spent the whole week guilt-ridden because he had left his basket in the middle of the walkway, which caused Eddie to slip.  Poor guy didn't calm down until Eddie had reassured him no less than 15 times that he wasn't hurt and they were totally cool.)

It had become part of the routine, part of the system, for the two to have a conversation before one or the other left. But not today. today he was careful. The very second he had noticed Steve make his way over out of the corner of his eye he made a break for the bathroom. Never before had he been so grateful for the fact that Sudsy’s had a toilet left over from when the building was something else. 

He hid there for as long as was socially acceptable before slinking out to start his drier cycle. He waved to Steve across the room when he saw him. Just to say they were still cool. No other reason. 

The point is that the only time he was anywhere near Steve’s laundry basket was when Eddie passed it on his way out. He definitely did not grab anything then. Or at least he thought he didn't. 

Oh god did he? Was he so far gone that he didn't even notice?!?!

Eddie groaned and dropped his head into his hands. Hands that were still holding the underwear, the underwear, The probably not clean underwear, the–Jeasus, maybe Eddie did need to go to church ‘cus the thoughts he is thinking are not pure!

What does he do now? He can't turn himself in, he’s in too deep. But if this continues… well he doesn't know what will happen, but it can't be good!

For now, he figures that as long as Steve hasn't figured out where his underwear wandered off to everything will be fine. 

Hopefully.

On the bright side, Eddie probably still has another hour until Wayne gets back. He can think of plenty of ways to fill that time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------hehehehehe Steve and I are twirling our collective nonexistent evil mustaches. If anyone was disappointed that Steve didn't show up much another part is already in the works. so don't worry! more is on the way.

[pepsiboyy]

NIGHT SKY.

(best friends to lovers) pairing: chris sturniolo x reader summary: when everyone has fallen asleep on your camping trip, you and chris stay up and watch the stars with one another. warnings: fluff, talks about insecurities, slight angst a/n: HIIII i haven't posted an actual story in SO long. love you guys, genuinely. please love and enjoy this for the time being!! xoxo, apollo

⚜ masterlist ⚜

"are we almost there?"

chris's vocal complaints were finally coming to an end when we reached our stop.

"this seems good!" nick stated in a proud tone as he plopped the duffel bag he had been carrying into the grass beneath him.

"i still don't know why we're doing this," matt murmered to me, causing me to chuckle.

nick had insisted we go on a one-night camping trip to "get away from everything" for a little while. it was something he saw on tiktok. the triplets invited madi and i to tag along. i had become friends with the boys in high school, and i was close with all of them, but chris and i seemed to gravitate towards one another significantly more.

"i heard that!" nick huffed as he went through their belongings in the duffel bag.

chris slumped beside me, his body immediately making contact with the grass as he took a deep breath. "finally, we can relax." he chuckled as he turned to me.

"i think they um.. might need help with the tent." i giggled as i pointed towards his brothers, who were already struggling with putting it together.

chris huffed and sat up to go help them while madi sat beside me. we made fun of them along the way.

about 6pm rolled around, and nick went through the cooler bag for food.

"alright guys, chris was really excited for this, but he made us all sandwiches." nick stated with a smile as he took each one out, each covered in cling wrap with a name written onto it.

chris clasped his hands together excitedly as he crawled towards them and began to go through them.

"alright... nick, madi... matt, and.. last but not least!" he cheerfully handed me a sandwich with my name written on the plastic. "here ya go."

"what about you, chris?" i asked, cocking an eyebrow.

chris's face dropped.

"no way you forgot to make yourself one." matt mumbled.

"it's okay, i'll share mine with you. i'm not super hungry anyway." i reassured him with a smile, and chris nodded softly.

"right, okay. sorry." he mumbled as he sat beside you.

once everyone had finished eating, we all started to get ready for bed. it wasn't late, but a day of hiking was truly tiring.

it was a summer night, so there wasn't much need for jackets or sweaters. i brought a pair of sweats and a simple black tee. no need for anything more, right?

everyone had fallen asleep, and chris and i were both sitting in silence. but i could tell he wasn't asleep because he wouldn't stop moving.

but then his voice pierced the silence between us.

"you wanna go to the top of the hill?" he questioned, pointing upwards.

there was a small hill beside our setup, and it seemed to be one of the highest things nearby. i nodded softly. "yeah, sure. sounds fun."

we slipped on our shoes and walked up, giggling as we tried our hardest to stay quiet.

"look at that," chris gawked at the view of the city, his eyes widening as he shifted to take a seat.

i gently sat beside him and pulled my knees to my chest.

it was truly gorgeous. the way the lights flickered and the cars passing by looked like ants... it was so bright in contrast to where they were. was that really what they lived in every night?

i turned to chris and felt my cheeks heat up upon realization that his eyes were on me.

"sorry," he quickly murmered as he turned back to the lights in the city.

i chuckled at him and shook my head. "if you think that's pretty.." i whispered before leaning back to lay down against the soft blades of grass. "you should look up."

chris watched me shift and gave the city one last glance before he laid beside me and crossed his arms behind his head.

"wow," he whispered, smiling softly.

i looked at the stars above us... each individually twinkling and providing a sense of warmth.

we sat in silence for a few minutes before chris cleared his throat slightly. "i feel like i'm in a difficult position."

i turned my head towards chris and blinked a few times as my cheeks grew pink.

no, he wasn't looking at me this time. instead he was staring up at the sky. but the moonlight along with the light that the stars provided perfectly outlined his jaw, his cheekbone and the bridge of his nose.

he looked stunning.

"what do you mean by that?" i asked softly, my eyes not leaving him now.

chris seemed to ponder for a moment before he sighed. "i just genuinely have no idea what to do." i stared at him and let him think before he sat up and propped himself up on his arm. "i'm so afraid but i'm so certain." he whispered, but his words came out firm - like he was positive about what he was talking about.

"what do you mean?" i asked, smiling softly at him.

chris didn't smile back. he seemed to really be battling his thoughts. "i have a hard time committing," he stated blankly before continuing, "i feel like i'm useless with things like this, but... i genuinely think i have finally received that push to let that go."

i watched him as he spoke, and finally, his eyes met with mine.

"it's hard, because i can feel myself slipping every single day.. further and further." he sat up and turned to look down at me. "i'm falling in love with someone who had seem me at my best and worst, and i'm afraid of ruining what i have with the person who knows me as well as i do." he whispered.

i felt my heart drop and my eyes widen as i sat up. "chris?" i questioned.

"but it hurts me more than anything that i have to go every single day pretending she's just my friend." he whispered. "but i'm so afraid," his voice cracked.

i listened closely to him. he needed to get his feelings off his chest.

"do you know how hard it is to watch your best friend grow up beside you into the most beautiful and amazing person you've ever seen?" he whispered.

i bit my lip as i nodded and sat up, scooting towards him. i gently reached to grab his hands and hold them in mine. my eyes never once left his. "i understand. because i do the same thing. every single day." i smiled, and chris's expression lit up. "i watch my best friend go every single day, fighting his personal battles and winning every single one of them. every day he's a better person and i admire that."

chris bit his lip as his eyes danced between either of mine. he laughed softly and dropped his head to look down, his bangs covering his eyes. "i just want things to work."

"they will." i whispered, causing chris's eyes to interlock with mine. "because she feels the same way."

chris's fingers gently locked with mine, and he bit his lip as he sniffed. he then pulled me into a tight hug, his nose burying into the crook of my neck.

i chuckled and held him tightly, my fingers gently caressing his hair.

"i can't believe i confessed to you in the middle of fucking nowhere," he mumbled against the skin of my shoulder, giggling softly.

i couldn't see him, but i could tell his face was red with embarrassment.

"better now than later." i whispered as i smiled at him.

chris pulled away and looked into my eyes, his bright blue ones looking even more light with the stars.

"can i kiss you?" he whispered.

i felt my face flush, but i nodded quickly and smiled.

and with that, chris leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, his eyes fluttering shut. he held my hand tightly in one hand while the other rose to rest against my cheek.

the stars glimmered a little brighter from that day onward.

every time i looked up at the night sky, i would think of the night my best friend confessed to me and started a journey we both desperately required, but had no idea was reciprocated.

⚜ masterlist ⚜

taglist;; @sturnsxplr-25 @vampiree-555 @wh0resstuff @jetaimevous @sturnioloshacker @lovesturni0l0s

[additiva]

can u rec some lestappen fanfics pleaseee i feel like i’ve read everything and ur an amazing writer so i trust ur taste (even ones you haven’t read and want to read will do) tyy

Ooh I love this. Also that's so lovely thank you 🤍❤️

Lestappen Fic Rec List

Below the cut.

Ok not an exhaustive list, but here are the ones I remember LOVING.

Some are well known, some less so.

I can't rec any I haven't read yet sorry I'm super picky about the writing style, which you don't know until you get into the fic.

I've tagged some authors, some I couldn't remember their Tumblr names even though I follow them. I'll try to remember to tag them later, but also feel free to do so, if you know them.

Please leave kudos and comment on these fic if you check them out 🤍

I'll try to remember to update the list in future if I can.

Every Other Sunday by Anney

Obviously

Home (is wherever I'm with you) by actparci

Charles leaves Ferrari. There's a million of these, and this is my favourite.

Grapefruit Mignonette by slapshots

Restaurant au. The best of the trope in my opinion though the others are also good.

Set My Midnight Sorrow Free by PrincessElectra

-LOVE this series. Ugh. NOT an au.

Violent delights by grandprix

-ABO. Adore this series esp the second one.

Straight Lines by @alphatinies

Yes. Can't describe just read.

Blood Soaked Gown by sixteenthirtythree

ABO. Friends w benefits. Max is retiring and wants Charles to take his Red Bull seat. Adore it.

Canine teeth in the side of my neck by mintchocolatechip97

Silly! Biting. Don't look directly at me.

If I had words by @formula-fun

ABO. Charles has a miscarriage. Don't let the pregnancy themes scare you, it's perfect. The dynamics are 🫠 I adore this Max 😖

Called to the devil and the devil said hey by @creabirds

Yes. Sticks in my brain like glue.

A life in your shape by weiwuxian

- Max is Batman. This bit, I'll never forget:

But it was what made it fun — being taunted and kissed in the same breath. To fight and fuck and feel worshiped the whole time.

Top of the world (looking down on creation) by eaurouge-sangnoir

Sex worker Charles, virgin Max. 😖

Breathe You In (Like a Vapour) by @fabbyf1

🌶️🌶️❤️❤️

I'll Be Right Beside You by @fabbyf1

Max has amnesia. Charles is perfect.

Curious by LaurawritingF1

Charles is bicurious. Max is happy to help.

Heart Out series by @drivestraight

Girl!Max. Charles is bad at sex, but for some reason Max keeps doing it with him. Underrated. One of my fave series ever. Charles is a simp. He cannot handle Max, but he tries anyway, and I LOVE him.

Panem et circenses by Anney

SO underrated wow. Dystopian future of F1 fic, and like. Wow. Perfect. Wow.

Dirtbag, baby by mondaycore

All of their lestappen. Again, don't look directly at me. Look at the fic instead.

The Skirt by Anonymous

Silly! And short. But I love it.

Says he's going to teach me what fast is by @foggystars

Their lestappen are great but actually this Charlos one is my fave 🤌

And these are not Lestappen. They're Maxiel primarily, which I don't seek out in my life but they're SO perfect it makes me sick. I think anyone would enjoy them. The writing is just perfect.

To the Victor Belong The Spoils by @powerful-owl

Hunger Games AU. Wow the writing. The characterisations. Wow. It's all perfect. Wow. Please read it. You'll love it.

Steal the air out of my lungs by nahco3

Resident doctor au. Both accurate and compelling. Max is so dear to me. And Lewis. Love of my life, ugh.

Leave this blue neighbourhood series by tiredtiredsharl

This whole series I must've read 20 times. Multi-ship, though not Lestappen. Found family. It heals me with every word, it's just 😖😖❤️❤️.

Okay that's it for now. Lmk what you think.

[landograndprix]

everybody talks ✾ m.v

summary – in which max's teammate & girlfriend isn't as loved as she should be.

a/n – requests are open, also don't know what this is but felt max was the perfect guy for this 😭 had to channel my fuck red bull & fuck max persona for this, warning a lot of sour men in here 😂

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y/nusername

Barcelona, Spain

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 218,761 others

y/nusername barcelona'23 ☀

tagged: maxverstappen1

view all 376 comments

victoriaverstappen have fun you two ❤️

y/nusername ❤️❤️

y/nnmax99 my favorite couple 🥰

jamesxvier I was today years old when I found out these two are dating

charloss1655 have been dating for a while now actually Don't blame you though, they don't post a lot about it.

verstappenmaxie ...because of the shit they both get for it, I would keep my relationship private too

mercgirl how much does red bull pay you to be his girlfriend? 🤡

y/nusername a wdc, don't tell him though.

landonorris can i get the same when I go out with Max?

y/nusername I'll ask..hang on

hannahhh having my fingers crossed for a good weekend for both of you!

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redbullracing

Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya

liked by yourbestfrienduser, victoriaverstappen and 115,762 others

redbullracing another phenomenal race for our favorite paddock princess, p1! 🏆

#F1 #RedBullRacing #BarcelonaGP

view all 426 comments

zhoueey let's goooo women for the win 🏆🏆🏆

maxverstappen1 the best there is!

redbullracing she sure is 👏

cal092 🤮 🤮

sarahh1 @/cal092 you're a grown man, are you not embarrassed.. 🤮

timothytim sad we didn't get a 1-2 for redbull but we'll keep fighting!

teamy/n that's our girl 🥰

y/nusername just me and my lil' illegal car 🥰

maxmaxverstap in your little illegal rocketship 😭

chilisainz not a red bull fan but would die for this woman :')

frank1971 disgusting, women don't belong in f1.

y/nusername sorry you feel this way frank, however your opinion doesn't make me want to switch carreers. Hope you sleep well tonight, i certainly will. 😊

landoscar 💀 💀

bott-ass lmao that's some queen shit

tifosi200 I hate redbull. 🤮

yourbestfrienduser you're aware you're on the redbull page? You follow them, you stalking them despite it all?

1990m your ferrari ain't doing so good stfu

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y/nusername posted on their story

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y/nusername

Zandvoort, The Netherlands

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbestfrienduser and 198,002 others

y/nusername zandvoort'23 🇳🇱

tagged: maxverstappen1

view all 291 comments

yourbestfrienduser okay..where was my invite?

supermax33 hoping for a great weekend for both of you!

norrlan loving all this max content you've been putting out, love you two together 🥰

zaza29 heard you were sick, please tell me you're well enough to be on the grid this weekend 🥺

char_lec let's hope not lol let others have a chance..hope she'll be sick for a couple of weeks

zaza29 wtf? hoping people stay sick? 🥴

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y/nusername

CM.com Circuit Zandvoort

liked by redbullracing, yourbestfrienduser and 236,542 others

y/nusername p2 this weekend wasn't something I was expecting this weekend since I wasn't feeling 100%. A big shout out to my doctor for fixing me up the best he could and a big shout out to the team for guiding me through the struggles that I experienced today!

tagged: redbullracing, maxverstappen1

view all 361 comments

maddieb sis struggled to breathe over the radio, looked like a hot mess when she got out of that car, looked like she was about to empty her stomach and was visible shaking and still managed to get p2..and y'all still want to tell me she ain't got no skill 💀

maxverstappen1 proud of you ❤️

y/nusername ❤️❤️

carlitosainz stop making me like you dude omg 😭

redbullracing beast mode was on! 👏

lucie2000 I'm not a fan of max but the way he waited for y/n to drive into the pits with a big fat smile on his face was adorable

norrisoscar enemies to lovers always hit different 😂

lucie2000 true true 😂

danielricciardo you might be good at this.

y/nusername yeah, you think I can make a carreer out of this?

danielricciardo with a bit of training? Absolutely.

Tiffie2 pregnant maybe, does look like you gained some weight?

charlus16 wtf is this question, what's wrong with people?

y/nusername it's called bloating tiff, something that happens to a female body when they're ovulating. I thought a woman your age would've known this by now.

bott-ass and I oooop– 💀

supermaxmax @/maxverstappen1 if you don't marry her, I will 😭

yourbestfrienduser another 1-2 with your man 🥰

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y/nusername posted on their story

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y/nusername

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 278,761 others

y/nusername december'19 – december'23, four years of us. Hoping I can be your pain in the ass for for many more years and may I be able to stop myself from driving you off the track when you once again 'forget' to do the dishes. love you lot, hou van jou ♥︎

tagged: maxverstappen1

view all 401 comments

maxverstappen1 love you lots and hou van jou ❤️

maxiel333 congrats you guys 🥰

dannyricric the cutest couple for sure

danielricciardo ❤️

lunaferrari 4 years already?! 🤯 happy 4 years!

norrizz4 happy 4 years you guys 💞💞

posiexo power couple for real

bennyd14 man bagged his 3rd wdc, drives for the best team AND bagged the prettiest woman of them all. He won for life.

yourbestfrienduser and now get married..

charlie16cl honestly, what's this man waiting for? 😂

bott-ass @/maxverstappen1 you better before I do

[steddieas-shegoes]

i'm coming out

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'pride'

rated t | 880 words | no cw | tags: coming out, bisexual king gareth, side steddie

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

Gareth hated to admit it, but he was jealous.

He was jealous of Steve still being able to hide under the radar enough that he could go to gay clubs and pride events without anyone batting an eye. He was jealous of Eddie being out publicly, not having to keep any part of his life a secret except for what he truly wanted to. And he was jealous of his own boyfriend, Sam, for not even having to worry about how the public would react if they knew he was gay.

"I just think it sounds like you want to come out," he said over the phone. "If Eddie can, why can't you?"

"It's not that easy!" Gareth argued, though he wasn't really sure how to back that argument up. It was that easy. Nobody in the band would care if he decided to come out, and most of the fans would be fine with it if they went off their reaction to Eddie coming out.

"Why not?" Sam asked, calm in Gareth's chaos.

"Because if people don't like Eddie, it can be for any number of reasons. He's loud, or a nerd, or too hyper. If they don't like me, it's definitely just because I like men." Gareth had never actually acknowledged that thought before, but here he was, saying it out loud on the phone to his boyfriend. "I don't want people to hate me."

"Baby..." Sam started. He sighed. "It's your choice. You know I would never pressure you to do anything you aren't ready for. But it does sound like the only person who is holding you back is you."

Gareth didn't feel like talking about it more, but Sam let him change the subject and the rest of the conversation went fine.

"Think about it, Gare," Sam said as they hung up.

That's all he did for days. He saw countless posts about pride events in the cities they were stopping in on the tour, Eddie even made an appearance at a drag brunch and left VIP tickets for the performers to come to Corroded Coffin's show that night. He thought about being able to be a part of the community in the way he knew he could be.

"Ed?" He asked right before they all went to bed.

"Yeah?" Eddie was typing out a text on his phone, probably some long and romantic and disgusting ode to Steve.

"You're going to the parade in Boston right?"

Eddie looked up from his phone, brows furrowing. "Yeah, why?"

"Mind if I come with you?"

"You're always welcome, you know that." Eddie smiled. "You coming as an ally or as the 'B' in LGBTQIA+?"

"I think I'm gonna come as me."

****

He didn't tell Sam what he was doing, figured he would have time between getting back to the tour bus and when news started hitting.

He forgot that Sam tracked alerts on Twitter for him.

His phone started ringing the moment he hit the end of the parade route.

"Hey, love," Gareth couldn't stop smiling. He'd never felt like he belonged here quite like he did today. "All okay?"

"I'm so fuckin' proud of you." Sam's smile was evident in his voice. "You could've given me a little warning though. Seeing 20 notifications pop up at once is a bit terrifying."

"Sorry. Wanted to surprise you. Did you like my shirt?" Gareth looked down at the shirt he was wearing.

"You mean the "ask me about my boyfriend" with a bi pride flag shirt? Yeah, I'd like a matching one as soon as possible."

"Yeah?"

They both laughed as Gareth found a small corner of the alley they'd stopped in to be alone.

"I can't wait to kiss you. This is the hottest thing you've ever done."

"What about that time I fucked you against my drum set?" Gareth asked with a smirk.

"Okay. The second hottest thing you've ever done. Still don't know how you had the strength to hold most of my weight for that long," Sam sounded like his thoughts were drifting to the memory of that day. "Anyway! I don't wanna keep you from having fun. But call me later."

"Okay, babe. Wish you were here," Gareth said softly. "Miss you."

"Miss you too. But only three weeks until you're home."

"Feels like forever."

"Dramatic." Sam laughed. "I love you, baby."

"I love you, too. If you see me getting drunk in a gay bar later, no you don't."

"I'd buy you a drink if I was there."

"Three weeks."

"21 days."

"You two are disgusting." Eddie yelled from a few feet away.

Sam laughed and said goodbye as Gareth walked over to Eddie.

"Not any more disgusting than you and Steve," he grumbled. "At least Steve comes with you for most of the tour."

"Can you imagine if he didn't? The world would end."

Gareth rolled his eyes. "Uh huh. Drinks?"

"Drinks!" Eddie threw his arms up and started running down the block, ignoring the yells of people recognizing him as he made his way to the bar they'd already chosen.

Gareth followed, unable to wipe the smile from his face. He was out, and maybe he'd have to do it more officially later on, but for now, this was enough.

[wellgoslowly]

Hello! I was wondering if I can get a request please. The reader works for Lockwood and Co but she has the complete opposite personality of what Lockwood has (ex: reader is more of listener rather than a talker and when she is around new people she is more on the quiet side until she gets comfortable around them) and Lockwood falls for the reader. Thank you!

Ain't a Life a Many Splendored Thing?

a/n: a bit of a shorter post but I think I might make it into a series!! I loved this prompt and I loved writing it sm!!! it's not much but I didn't want to write more before knowing if yall would want a part 2 :) also yes the title is from hello hello by elton john from the hit movie gnomeo and juliet.

pairing: lockwood x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: none :)

tags: @hufflepuff1619 (thank you for the request!) @oblivious-idiot @tangledinlove @ikeasupremacy @givemea-dam-break @neewtmas [if u guys want to be put on a tag list just lmk in the comments!!! also if i missed anyone im sorry!!!!]

The moment that you stepped into 35 Portland Row for your interview, it was obvious to everyone that Lockwood was a goner.

You two were clearly exact opposites- where he was confident and cocky, you seemed more reserved and humble. Where he was reckless, you seemed calculated and exact. And it was now evident that while he found it natural to talk in order to prevent awkward silences around new people (especially those whom he found to be very attractive), you were perfectly comfortable with listening to him ramble.

“And right up here is the attic.” He was saying now as the two of you climbed up the creaking stairs. “You've met Lucy, obviously- this is her room. And yours as well, if you choose to live here.” He watched you take in the room, filled with Lucy's drawings and scarce decorations on the walls, your eyes lingering on the small bed hastily shoved in the corner. He looked at you with apprehension, admittedly a little worried that you would turn to him and say that you'd changed your mind and reject the employment offer.

Instead, you turned to him with a slight smile on your face and said, “Is it ok with Lucy? If I stay here?” Instantly, Lockwood was filled with relief. “It was her idea, actually.” He said softly, watching you nod in understanding. “Alright then.” You said, a sense of finality in your voice. Lockwood smiled and watched as you walked to set the small bag of belongings you had taken to your interview on top of your new bed. “I'll leave you to it, then. Dinner should be ready soon.” He said to you. You didn't respond, but Lockwood wasn't worried- he knew exactly what your soft smile was meant to convey.

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“Lockwood, I just- I don't know if she fits here.” It had been only 3 days after you had officially joined Lockwood & Co., but Lockwood wasn't necessarily surprised by the remark George threw him from across the table that morning. You and Lucy were asleep, still tired after facing an infuriating ambush from a large cluster of Type Ones while on a Type Two case.

“What do you mean, George?” Lockwood asked as he took a sip of his tea. “I mean, she's just so quiet. She never speaks, and when she does it's either in one word responses or a couple phrases- even then, she mostly only ever talks to you. I'm just worried about how well she'll be able to communicate in the future.” George explained, his hands moving wildly about.

“You haven't seen her in the field, George- she's brilliant. Her sight is comparable to mine, and her touch… it's like Lucy with her Listening. Yes, she's a bit… reserved, but I'm sure she just needs to warm up to us, is all.” Lockwood smiled at his friend as he took another sip of tea, peeling open the front page of a new issue of True Hauntings.

“Don't think I didn't notice how you avoided the comment about how she only seems to talk to you.” George grumbled, taking a bite out of a piece of toast. Lockwood didn't look up from the text on the page in front of him as he mumbled a soft “I don't know what you're talking about.” George scoffed in response, starting to say something that sounded a lot like “you're clearly gone for her, why do I even try”, when you walked in, hair amess and blinking sleep out of your eyes.

The kitchen fell into immediate silence, George's face flushing in embarrassment as you looked at him, your expression unreadable. “If you're going to talk about me, you could at least do it while I'm around.” Lockwood looked up at that as he didn't notice you silently entering the kitchen. He took in your sleep-addled state and the look of fear in George's eyes. And then you were softly smiling. “I was joking, sorry. Didn't mean to scare you.” You said before sitting down next to Lockwood.

George snorted. “I think that's the most you've said to me the entire time you've been here.” George said, apparently taking your joke to heart. Lockwood softly kicked George under the table, but you just laughed a little.

Deciding to change the subject, Lockwood turned to you with a smile. “I'm sorry for him. What he meant to say was good morning. Would you like some tea?” You smiled at Lockwood, and he was hit with the thought that it mightve been the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. “Yes, please.” You responded. Lockwood nodded, getting up to turn the kettle on once more.

The morning passed like that- you and George softly trading barbs with one another, Lockwood making you your tea and toast, and Lucy stumbling in once you were almost done with breakfast and mumbling a “gmornin” to you and the boys. Soon, the discussion turned from an easygoing conversation over breakfast and lapsed into a more serious discussion as Lockwood started explaining the cases that you all had scheduled for that night.

You and Lockwood would be going out to a house that was reported to contain a Type Two and a couple Type Ones, George would be staying home to do some research for a bigger case the four of you had coming up the next week (he had also gotten injured a couple of days ago and his wound hadn't fully healed), and Lucy would be going to an office afflicted by a couple Type Ones.

Lockwood had been too busy dishing out the information for the night's events to realize that you hadn't been talking. It was only after Lucy and George had nodded in understanding and set out to set their own respective tasks- Lucy heading down to the basement and George getting ready to go to the Archives- when Lockwood looked to you and realized that you had been drawing on the Thinking Cloth the entire time.

He leaned over slightly, watching as you drew a small landscape on a tiny piece of empty space with a green pen that Lockwood wasn't sure he had ever seen before. He smiled as you drew, watching the concentration on your face. “Did you hear the cases for tonight?” He asked softly, watching the quirk at the corner of your lips.

“George is doing research, Lucy's got a couple of Type Ones, and you and me have got the Type Two.” You clicked your pen, signaling that you were finished with your drawing, and then you turned to look at Lockwood. “How'd I do?” You asked softly. “With the cases, or the drawing?” You shrugged, a look in your eyes that told him “both.” He smiled. “Excellent.” He whispered, making you smile.

Eventually, the two of you migrated from the kitchen to the library. Lockwood sat in his favorite armchair, surveying a stack of recent magazines as he decided which one to read first. You left the room quickly, and Lockwood frowned at your departure as he settled into the chair with a week old gossip rag.

But as quickly as you left, you had returned, a book in your hand as you sat down in the chair next to Lockwood. You two sat there for a while, Lockwood taking breaks to explain to you different London Society news while you happily listened and Lockwood smiling to himself every time you reached a point in your book that made you laugh or make some sort of exclamation of disbelief.

He was content, he realized, to just sit there and exist by your side. While he normally felt the need to make his presence known, to charm and impress anyone he might’ve just met, he found that he was very happy to just sit and read with you.

An hour or so later, Lockwood decided that he wanted to go down to the basement and get some training in before the case that night. He was about to ask you if you'd care to join before he noticed that you had fallen asleep, arms curled around your legs and head laying peacefully against the cushioning of the chair. He smiled as he closed his magazine, getting up slowly and draping a blanket over you without a sound.

As Lockwood walked out of the library, he realized that George had been right. Not about you not fitting in- no, you had definitely proven George wrong. Instead, he was forced to admit that George might've been right about Lockwood being gone for you.

hehehe thanks for reading!!! I just put in my 2 weeks at my soul sucking part time job so I'll hopefully have more motivation to work on these hehe!!! I'll also be making a masterlist very soon- I've been meaning to do that for a while

also if yall want a part 2, pls lmk! I loved writing this and I think I could do a lot more w it hehehehe. anywhom if you've read this far, thank you for reading!!! love u!

mwah, linnie

[charmac]

just wanna say I agree wholeheartedly with your tags on that fandom post. I have been following sunny on here since 2015 and there is a constant cycle of sensitive, and frankly delusional people, who claim the show, make crazy headcanons and justifications to make it tolerable and acceptable to them before they eventually shun and condemn the show altogether. it was very bad in 2018 and made me withdraw from the fandom lmao. I remember being most annoyed with the endless woobifying of charlie and the absolute condemnation of dee above everyone else. like, they're all bad. that's the point of the show. I just don't understand how they could stomach it in the first place

You are a warrior, dude.

The reason it took me so long to join Sunnyblr in the first place was the fact that ~early 2020 I was rarely seeing anything here that was based in canon, mostly weird headcanons that made no sense to me, and Reddit genuinely seemed like a more based place to exist for this show.

I literally needed a friend to give me specific accounts to follow because the tag was (and, sorry, lowkey still is) a nightmare. (Though to be fair I’ve been in fandoms on Tumblr for over a decade and literally never liked scrolling tags.)

I got into Sunny and I fell in love with Sunny because of canon. Because it’s so fucking weird and fucked up but it’s FUNNY, and there’s genuinely nothing like it. The characters are horrible stupid terrible people but they’re actually deeply complex and rich to study, so much so that you feel extremely compelled in a multitude of ways to dedicate yourself to some part of them, or all parts of them. But.. if you strip them of those core identities, of what the characters stand for, that compulsion is gone, void, irrelevant.

Because it’s the extremely raw, almost purely acting on basic instinct, unfiltered humanity, worst parts of the self, inability to recognise or follow societal norms aspects of these characters that are relatable. It’s relatable in a way that *should* make you uncomfortable, feel unsettled, and maybe a little relieved that these parts of people can be acknowledged... That’s a unique and interesting feeling, something people engage with media like this to explore and expand upon, and it’s often something that genuinely helps or supports people who wrestle with a lot of the heavy concepts Sunny satirises (and sometimes just, shoves at you head on).

When people start to disregard all of this, for whatever reason they do, that’s when you end up with the Fandom using Sunny Characters as an “ability to project” or (much worse) a “near blank canvas to play with” (because, yeah, if you strip them of their literal reason for being created and continued existence, ofc you lose their whole identity!?)

The problem seems to be that either 1) they just don’t understand the show well enough to get that they’re disregarding this aspect of the plots and characters, and so they genuinely don’t recognise that the fandom for Sunny exists because of these terrible compulsions and insane trauma exploration and that’s why we enjoy discussing and playing with these characters or 2) they do understand this but they can’t engage with it without some kind of personal moral conundrum or extreme discomfort, so they have to sanitise or completely alter the characters to enjoy them.

The thing is, if you fall into category 2, you just don’t belong in the depths of it all, and it’s an unfortunate truth you have to face. If you cannot enjoy canon, if the actual show makes you extremely uncomfortable and you’re only here for a gay ship or to project your gender and sexuality onto one character, you need to go stan something else. I say that with the greatest intentions for you. As Anon here has stated, it’s an insane cycle in this fandom over and over, you’re just going to upset yourself and resent the show and the people here, because we like the canon and the fuckery because that’s what the show is for. That is the literal point of the show at the end of the day.

Now if you’re in category 1, I heavily encourage you to actually *talk to people about the show and the characters*, read analysis, watch the episodes with different frames of reference and in alternate states of mind. Do your own analysis or character work, try and just write out the plot of your favourite episode and put to words *why* you like it. Hell, try and write a fanfic or a spec script from the mind of one of the characters, even if you think you can’t write.

Honestly, honestly, honestly, if you genuinely like this show at face value but you’re only engaging with fanon because you feel like you ‘shouldn’t’ openly enjoy the canon because it’s seen as ‘bad,’ the best thing you can do is have a conversation with someone, or multiple people, who get the show.

That being said, I do wanna open this shell Discord I’ve made to people. For people who *enjoy* the canon, who want to discuss actual Sunny (and also have fun with it, of course!) you’re welcome to join.

A lot of you get it. I’ve made some amazing friends in this fandom and regularly have extremely stimulating and insanely throught provoking convos with the people I’ve met here. I love it, it drives my insane passion for this show and I am eternally grateful to have found people who love this show for what it is. I hope, if you’re struggling to figure out why you like this show or struggling to accept that you like media like Sunny, you reach out or join a conversation and learn to love it too. And if you don’t, if you genuinely hate the canon of this show and only like the version of Macdennis you saw in a dozen different Tiktok edits to Taylor Swift songs, I really hope you move on for your own sake.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Could we get a fic where the reader is a simp for buggy? Like he overhears them

omg YES! sorry for the wait, I'm not quite satisfied with how it turned out but I still hope you'll enjoy. 💕

Synopsis: Is it just your imagination, or is your captain flirting with you?

Warnings: Tiny bit of insecure Buggy, but otherwise none.

Tags: GN! Reader, a bit of Misunderstanding, not proofread, Reader is downbad for the clown just like me tbh

"And for my next trick, I need a volunteer from the audience!"

The whole circus tent fell dead silent, all hostaged villagers facing the ground in hope not to be chosen. You sat among them, arms crossed in front of your chest and laid back on the chair as Buggy scanned the room.

Actually you had been ordered to keep an eye on your victims, but instead your gaze was permalocked on your captain - especially now that he had tossed away his coat.

Damn.

You bit your lip at the sight of Buggy's skin shimmering softly under the spotlight, highlighting how his muscles flexed as he confidently strode from row to row.

Oh, the things you'd to for him to take off some more clothes...

The clown came to a halt, clearly announcing something yet you were too caught up in some very impure fantasies to notice.

"What's wrong, Y/N? Stagefright?"

The prisoners insincere laugh started at your crewmate's sign, and you automatically went along with it, even though your mind was still currently stuck with adoring this trademark smile of his that made your knees weak even while sitting...

...wait- what the hell did he just say?!

"Y/N?" A severed hand floated in front of your face, waving frantically as it startled you out of your daydream. The man it belonged to followed shortly after, sounding almost worried. "You're alright over here?"

"I- uh, me?" you pointed to yourself with a puzzled expression, all flabbergasted at the situation you suddenly found yourself in. "Why me?"

"You'll see." Buggy winked and you already felt like fainting, dear god how were you supposed to assist him with anything when you couldn't even string together a whole sentence in his presence?

And yet the clown was stubbornly persistent in his demand.

When waving you over wouldn't suffice, he simply grabbed your wrist and practically dragged you from your seat and into the spotlight, his bright grin never faltering.

What shenanigan did he had in mind this time? And why would he want you of all people to help him out?

"A great applause for Y/N - tonight's top act!" You rose an eyebrow, knowing Buggy hated to share the spotlight, let alone give it to someone else...

...yet before you could end your pondering, Buggy took your hand as be bowed down to your height, kissing your knuckles as he looked up to you with an intense stare.

ShitshitshitshitshitSHIT!

Your mind went completely blank, stomach filling to the brim with metaphorical butterflies that made you wanna puke.

The act didn't even start and you already wanted the earth to swallow you before he'd become aware of the effect you had on him.

Buggy's eyes never left yours even when he spinned on his heels and strolling towards a giant wheel. "Our dear Y/N is a very skilled fighter, I'll have you know" he explained and you wondered what it was he wanted to imply...

...until he commanded two of the other performers to strap him to the wheel. "What kind of pirate would I be if I don't prove my fearlessness?"

Does he want you to do what you think he wants you to do? Is he for real?! Fuck, is he crazy? Of course he kinda is, you know him long enough to be sure of that - but does he have a deathwish or something?!

You were mentally debating whether to listen to your fight or flight instinct, however you decided to just walk up and confront him at least about the current matter.

"C-Captain, I can't-"

"Shh." A sole finger of his covered your lips to keep you from refusing. "This is gonna be great. I trust you with my life, sweetheart"

Your eyes widened for a split second as the nickname dropped from his mouth, but before you could make sense of it Buggy pointed somewhere to shoo you away. "The knives are on the barrel next to the entrance...

...Oh, and Y/N? Believe in yourself."

Gosh, hopefully people think you're sweating so much because of the headlights.

Maybe it is a test, you contemplated as you examined the blade in your hand, trying to get a good grip before starting the action. Not exactly a throwing knife, but it'll suffice.

Yeah, you haven't really been useful up until now, at least when it came to the circus.

Of course you worked as hard as everyone else and no one rushed you to find a talent you could show off in here, but sometimes it felt as if you were just not as special as the rest of the crew.

"They'll never understand your worth, Y/N - but I do."

Buggy's words echoed in your head, lifting up your spirits as you remembered the day your paths crossed. Like many of his crew you were an outcast, lonely and misunderstood - until he came along and reduced the town that abused you all those years into rubble and ashes.

Yes, he indeed saved you from a meaningless life. Gave you a home, a family, a purpose. And you'd do everything he'd ask of you to at least repay a fraction of this tremendous debt.

Buggy the Clown was your hero, your idol...

...and the man you had fallen head over heels for from the very start.

You took a deep breath, earning a proud nod of your superior as your stance became serious.

The first knive hit the right side of his forearm. Five more to go.

"C'mon, don't be so soft on me, love. I know you can go closer without doing any harm." Ugh. Your crush sometimes really made you forget how insufferable he can be.

Another, this time right between his legs. "Now that's more like it" he cackled, nervously adding "Be careful with that part, though. Still need it, if you know what I mean."

Would he shut up already instead of making you even more jittery?! Focus, Y/N, focus!

The remaining knives plunged into the wooden wheel easily. One by his foot, one next to his head, one right between his spead fingers.

Buggy wordlessly gesticulated as far as his restrained self could, and you immediately understood - you didn't like the suggestion, however.

Loud gasps mixed with horrified screams as your last blade had pierced his abdomen right in the middle...

...just for him to put himself together as if nothing happened, rushing to your side again through all the turmoil.

You nudged his side, unusually straightforwards for your standards. "I could've hurt you, killed even, idiot!" you scolded him quiet enough that only his ears would perceive.

"Childsplay" he whispered back, and only now you realized just how close his face was to yours. "I just needed to split myself in two before your knive would."

"How could you be so sure about it?"

"I'm an expert at human nature" he bragged cheekily, "And a great duo like us should know each other inside out, right?"

What? A duo, you and him?

Just a few minutes before you were certain that the captain was indifferent to your existence, asides from your function in his crew...

...if only you knew that your feelings for him were the complete opposite of onesided - Buggy was just way more discrete.

Out of a whim, Buggy kissed your cheek before twirling you around., presenting you to the audience one last time. "Another applause for Y/N, our new shining star!" he cheered along with your crewmates, squeezing your hand and bowing down together...

...only for you to flee the scene as soon as your captain released you.

The show went on for another few minutes, with Buggy unable to concentrate ever since you ran away before he could even react.

Of course your crewmates knew very well what was going on. Your not-so-secret crush was basically known amongst the whole team except for the man in question. But they had promised you to keep it to themselves - and honestly, they knew better than to involve themselves into their emotionally instable captain's private life.

After all deeds of the evening were done, the clown rushed backstage, ignoring the celebrating crew inviting him for drinks.

As if he could even think to enjoy himself before making sure you were alright!

"Did I do something wrong?" he still wondered, since all of his efforts were with only the utmost best intent. Maybe he went a little overboard, though.

"Calm down already, would you?" Buggy stopped in his tracks when he heared Cabaji's voice - out of your dressing room.

After he finally got so close to you tonight, this felt like a punch to the gut.

"How can I ever be calm again?!" you blurted out in response, and your captain couldn't help but eavesdrop what this is about.

"He kissed me" you continued, "I-I mean on the cheek, but that counts, right?" Dramatically throwing your hands into the air, you began frantically rubbing your still hot face. "I can never look at him again, ahh!"

Oh.

Guilt started creeping into his heart, alongside an ache that was all too familiar.

How could he have been so blind?

Of course you were just as repulsed and afraid of him as anyone else would. What was he thinking, kissing you just like that? It was the heat of the moment paired with months of unrequited longing, but nonetheless unexcusable.

He needs to apologize and make up for this, no matter how...

...but then, he heared Cabaji's answer.

"Wasn't this exactly what you wanted, though?" Your friend leaned against a wardrobe, half-irritatedly adding "Seriously, I can't listen to you vent about this little crush any longer. Just confess and get it over with, damnit!"

"Little? That's the understatement of the year!" you blurted out, grabbing the green man by the shoulders and shaking him softly. "I swear, this is getting out of hand. If the captain would ask me to suck him off while he's sitting on his throne, I'd gladly accept."

"Ugh, way too much detail" Cabaji shuddered, making you cackle with a bit of glee. "I'll never get this image out of my head."

"Can you blame me?" Without even being aware, your frown turned into a smile as soon as you began talking about Buggy. "The captain is so handsome. He's strong, talented, funny, and incredibly charming as well!"

"...if you're gonna start your usual dialogue, I'd rather leave" he retorted, already picking up and swinging onto his unicycle. "Want to join us, get a drink or something to cheer you up?"

"No, I'm fine dwelling in my self-made misery, thank you." Cabaji smirked at those words, patting your back as means of comfort befor exiting. "Dramaqueen. See you later!"

"Bye." You forced yourself to crack a smile for the man, nodding at him mutely as if to say "I'm gonna be okay."

However, it didn't take long after he left until another knock at your door made you jump.

"Forgot something?" you assumed it was Cabaji again, because who else could you expect while everyone else was partying right now?

No answer.

Sighing, you cocked your head to the direction oft the entrance, ready to cuss someone out...

...and ultimatively almost falling when you saw who was really lurking in the doorframe.

"C-Captain!" you almost yelled in shock, covering your mouth instantly afterwards, out of embarassment.

A smile tugged on the edge of Buggy's lips, his tone unusual gentle as he sheepishly let himself in. "The one and only."

"What-" you stumbled across every syllable, very awkwardly trying to act cool yet panicking on the inside. "Umm, what are you doing here? Drank too much and got lost again? Hahaha...oh god."

Your anxiety skyrocketed with every second passing that he failed to answer - instead chuckling softly at your cringeworthy joke.

"Nope" the clown finally answered, casually dropping down on the bench right next to you. "I'm exactly where I want to be."

"Wh-" Hesitating if you truly wanted to hear the answer, you took a deep breath to get at least a fraction of the composure he'd always, unknowingly, easily stole from you back. "Did you hear us talk?"

"Huh? No, why?" Buggy acted clueless to spare you the embarassment - but oh, if only you knew what thrill was boiling inside of him because of your earlier words. "Badmouthing your captain maybe?"

He winked and you felt yourself tremble in both excitement and relief. "Haha, never! We respect you way too much for that."

Yeah, you still have a chance to not fuck this up entirely!

"What else did you come here for, then?"

The pirate would look anywhere but your eyes, grabbing a random item from the shelf to fidget with, in order to calm then nerves. "Just wanted to congratulate you on the marvellous performance."

"Oh, most of it wasn't my work, right?" Not daring to look at him, you nervously rubbed the back of your head. "I-I mean I could only shine because your light shines so brightly"

Ohmygodwhatthehelldidyoujustsay?! This is the worst...

...or is it?

Stroking his ego like this is dangerous if you intended to keep your pants on tonight, or so he thought.

"My dear, I guarantee you: Together our star shines even brighter as the sun." Buggy would take both of your hands into his much bigger ones, his watercolor eyes scanning your face for any reaction. "As matter of fact, I want you to always be at my side from now on."

In the show, right? RIGHT?!

A chill ran down your spine when you felt Buggy's warm breath on your ear, his lips only inches away from yours. "What are you thinking about, love?"

Hellshitfuckohmygodisthisreallyhappening?!

"...you did hear us."

Even though he found your little pout adorable, Buggy couldn't help the outburst of laughter, seemingly enjoying your annoyance to the effect he had on you...

...well, it certainly fits his character. Asshole.

"Maybe so." A mixture of mischief and genuine joy was written on his face, managing to turn your frown into an almost-smile. "Would it be that bad?"

"Depends on-"

The man wouldn't even leave time to finish your answer before he pulled you into his lap, now grinning from ear to ear.

"You know, maybe it's time for a more private aftershow-party..."