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eyelessfaces · 2 months

Text

he'll be gone in the morning

llewyn davis x reader

summary: you wish he would stay. he never does.

alternatively, two times llewyn is gone when you wake up, one time he's not yet.

warnings: there's honestly more smut than plot lol this was an excuse to write llewyn smut; unprotected piv sex (this man never learns), tipsy sex where both parts consent and are aware of what's happening, creampie, oral f receiving, praise kink, both parts are desperate, plot is based on angst, fear of abandonment i guess?, self doubt from both parts, a bit of self sabotaging from llewyn because is it really an oscar isaac character if he's not self destructive

tags: friends to ??lovers I guess, f!reader, unspoken feelings, reader has hair that's long enough to brush away from her face, fluff, yearning

word count: 2.8k

I haven't been sane about llewyn for the past few days. again. it usually takes me weeks to write smut because it makes me go insane but I wrote this in like eight hours so...... yeah. not sane about this man at all.

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog @eyelessupdates

It’s the same as always; he slept there last night, on your worn out couch, too old for him not to get a sore back after a whole night on it. You remember looking back at him as he tucked a pillow behind his head, a soft smile over his lips when he looked over at you before you turned the light off and reluctantly disappeared through the hallway to go to your room, by yourself.

He’s gone now, his own blanket you had gifted him on his most recent birthday messily folded and put back where it usually rests. If it wasn’t for the unfinished cup of coffee and the ashtray gathering a few cigarette butts sitting over your coffee table, it would be like he was never there in the first place.

He almost always disappears before you can join him and tell him good morning, always escapes before you get the opportunity to ask him to stay for one more night, to get him to be sure he has a place to stay at the end of the day.

He never writes notes anymore the way he used to the first few times you let him crash at your place, like he’s now used to your kindness; you don’t mind, you’re glad he feels comfortable staying here to the point where he doesn’t have to apologize when he knocks at your door anymore.

You don’t mind, it’s the whole opposite actually; you just wished he would stay.

—

Your cheeks are hot from the booze, or maybe – no, most definitely – from Llewyn’s mouth on your neck.

His beard is softly tickling your sensitive skin as he kisses and nips at it, forcing a – treacherous – almost silent whimper out of your mouth at the same time you sink your head into the pillows to grant him more access. It makes him laugh, it fucking makes him laugh smugly to see how he’s turning you into putty in his hands. Your hand instinctively buries in his hair to get a grasp onto something, and he gets a taste of his own little game when you softly tug on his thick curls and earn a small moan from him. Good to know.

Your body only feels warmer when his hands roam along the sides of it, slowly but surely stripping you of your layers until your top half is completely bare as he continues his assault over your neck, biting and sucking on it, making sure there will be visible proof that he went there for the guys staring at you too intensely at the bar to see.

Then his mouth trails down, again and again. He takes his precious time kissing your collarbone, the top of each breast, from your sternum down to your stomach. You cup the back of his neck as his curls softly tickle your skin and as he brings a special attention to your lower stomach, not giving in what he knows you need, teasing as his fingers press onto your hips before they eventually curl into the hem of your underwear as he continues leaving small, warm kisses to your stomach, sliding the piece of clothing off your hips and down your legs before he tosses it away.

When he finally moves and spreads your legs apart, it’s not to slide his warm tongue over your cunt like you would expect or hope for, it’s to gently kiss your left thigh and run his hand over your skin burning in the feverish heat of anticipation; the prickle of his beard softly teases the ticklish inside of your thigh, his warm mouth just inches away from where you truly want him, the sensations increased tenfold by the booze. Each trail of his hands and mouth leaves you more sensitive, head spinning already when he’s not even giving you what he knows you truly want from him yet.

When his mouth shifts again, it’s to give your other thigh the same treatment; soft nibbles while his hand gently caresses your warm skin before he runs the tip of his nose from the inside of your thigh up to your knee, looking back up at you desperately waiting for him to do anything concrete.

“Llewyn please” you whine needily, throwing your head back into the cushions of your bed as he chuckles and slowly makes his way down to the inside of your thigh again, hot breath teasingly fanning there.

“Tell me what you need, angel” he demands, murmuring close to where you want him as his thumb softly brushes your bare thigh. His eyes dart back to you, raising an eyebrow when you only whine his name as a response.

“You” you slur out, fingers wrapping around his forearm to get something to hold onto. His warm, half lidded eyes make something flutter inside your stomach, his mouth and hot breath close to your soaking slit making your breath halt. “Please”

You softly gasp as both of his hands squeeze the flesh of your ass, firmly grabbing onto it to pull your body closer towards him, no longer intent on teasing you or making you wait; he'd make you beg longer if he wasn't so damn eager to taste you.

He dives in and presses his flattened tongue against your folds, and you feel the same way you did earlier when you got to your feet after a few drinks; your head spins, your lower stomach burns just the way it did when drinking that whiskey.

It's a bit messy, a bit rushed and maybe even desperate but not even close to being unpleasant as his tongue laps at your slit, beard harshly rubbing against your sensitive skin.

He hums to himself as his lips close around your clit, sucking and pulling weak moans out of you, looking up at your through half lidded eyes when his middle finger slowly and carefully pushes inside your slick channel, his free hand stroking along your thigh caging his head.

He’d praise you more if his mouth wasn’t so damn busy, if your reactions weren’t so damn attractive as he mouthed at you pussy and wouldn't dare stopping, because you look so fucking pretty like this. Disheveled, high on pleasure for him, twitching under his tongue and clenching around the finger inside you.

His ring finger is quick to join alongside the other, stroking your tight walls until he meets the spot that makes your back arch and your breath run short.

He’s barely satisfied until he makes you come on his mouth and fingers twice, until his name and your weak moans and whines are all that can come out of your mouth, until your legs are shaking around his head, until you have to ask him to ease up.

Your chest heaves heavily, your whole body burning and seeming to melt into the mattress from the couple orgasms Llewyn just gave you. You smile dazedly when you look back down at him in between your legs, his cheek mushed against your thigh, his eyes closing contentedly when you run your fingers through his dark locks.

You feel your heart thump hard inside your chest again when he crawls back up to you, his mouth pressing against yours before it opens to let his tongue slip inside.

Your movements are hurried as you fiddle with the buttons of his shirt, impatiently blindly progressively getting it open before you’re finally able to slide it off his shoulders.

You hum a soft, reluctant groan into his mouth when you realize he’s wearing an undershirt, meaning that you’ll have to pull apart from his mouth to get it off. He takes care of the task, stripping himself off the tshirt before throwing it across the room, and quickly links your mouths again when he hovers over you, letting out a deep groan when you cup and feel him through his pants.

You can't help but smile into the kiss when he chases your touch, all but humping your hand before you pull it away to undo his pants, his tongue desperately licking into your mouth when he hurriedly – and a bit messily – strips himself naked. You’re pulled away from his mouth as he looks down when your hand closes around him and pumps his cock, his breath halting, hips thrusting to meet your movements.

Your leg snakes behind him to pull him closer, your chest burning again with anticipation when he takes his cock in hand and aligns with your entrance. You both let out a synchronized groan as he carefully pushes inside, easily sliding in, your sensitive channel slick from your previous orgasms, but still tight around him.

He’s gentle as he starts to thrust in, hand firmly planted besides your head, teeth sunk into his bottom lip in concentration. His vision sways from the alcohol; it was way less noticeable when he had his face in between your legs, when he didn’t have to use the rest of his body, when he didn’t have to rely on balance.

His eyes close when your hand cups his cheek, fingers softly scratching his beard while you whisper praises he’s far too gone to truly take into account, too lost in the feeling of your cunt softly contracting around him. His thrusts grow more and more desperate as he goes, less precise, the muscles of his thighs twitching as the familiar feeling quickly starts to gather inside his stomach, exhaling moans like laying in bed with you is a one time opportunity, like it’s the last time he’s ever gonna do this.

“Not gonna last long,” he mumbles dazedly between breaths before you quickly assure him that it’s okay, your hand cupping the back of his neck to pull his face close to yours again.

His tongue mingles with yours in a heated, desperate kiss before he pulls away and sinks his head against your shoulder, huffing out a loud breath when he feels himself getting close, trying not to tip over the edge before you do.

“Come on dove, come on” he begs you, his warm breath fanning over your neck when one of his hands gently holds onto your waist.

He feels like a lucky bastard that you come just seconds before he does; you let a soft cry out as your last orgasm hits you, this one softer than the two previous ones, feeling like a warmth washing through you as Llewyn stills when he reaches his end and spills inside you, eyes rolling back as a soft groan escapes his lips.

His body crumbles over yours as he lets out a loud sigh, pressing small kisses to your cheek, fingers softly running along your arm.

You want to give the affection back to him, want to kiss him until he's out of breath, but all your body does is close your eyes; Llewyn has drawn all the energy out of you, he has loved you until you became numb.

You instinctively know it's early in the morning when your mind awakes, an unpleasant heaviness clouding your head from the alcohol, and a soft ache between your thighs. You hum softly in your still half asleep state, turning around and changing positions to get more comfortable, reaching for the man you spent the night with, hoping you could snuggle to him.

Your eyes are still shut as you reach for Llewyn, your hand only passing along the ruffles and creases of the fitted sheets of your bed.

Your eyes eventually open when you know you have to come to terms with the fact that he’s gone, he’s fucking gone again.

—

You don’t know how it has happened again when you only wanted to address the issue at first, still mad at him when he knocked and when you opened the door, still mad that he had left like you were just a meaningless one night stand the other night, someone he would never see or hear about again.

But then he seemed so exhausted, so out of it and so crushed by every responsibility resting over his shoulders that you figured it would be better to bother him with the question later instead of overburdening him now.

Then things slipped, again. So fast and so casually at once, like it was simultaneously the right and wrong thing to do.

You don’t know why he’s in your bed again, but maybe on your part you do, because you will have to one day just admit that you love him.

You can’t help but feel like you’re missing something regarding him. Why is he in your bed again, sober, head resting over your chest and arms tightly wrapped around your waist if it was all the alcohol’s fault that you stepped further into your relationship the other night? Why is he in your bed again if he regretted it last time and felt he had to run away, again?

You swallow thickly as those questions overwhelmingly cloud your mind, trying to chase them away when you continue to absentmindedly run your fingers through his soft, long curls. It’d be a damn mood breaker to trap him into questions like while you’re still enjoying your respective post-high haze, and you would pass as too fucking ungrateful after the things you have just done, but you have to know why he acts like this, why he runs away but somehow always comes back.

“Llewyn,” his name weakly comes out of your mouth, your fingers stopping in their trail. You can hear your own breathing when you await his response, which eventually never comes.

He's sound asleep; it'll wait, again.

—

You had almost forgotten Llewyn had been there last night when you wake up to the sound of ruffling around the bedroom.

The only source of light in your room is the full moon light seeping through your window, faint but present enough to make you aware of your surroundings.

Llewyn is standing on the other side of the room, gathering his clothes scattered around the room that you so carelessly threw aside when in a hurry last night.

“What’re you doing” you mumble sleepily as you roll over his side of the bed, arm extending as if to reach for him. He looks over at you like a deer caught in headlights, stopping as his pants are already halfway slid up his thighs.

“I uh, I have to head out” he replies in a low mutter as he resumes his action, approaching and shoving in his pocket the pack of cigarettes laying on the bedside table.

“Don’t,” his gaze darts back at you as you speak, stopping in his movements, in fear that he might have heard it wrong. “Stay” you demand, almost beg as you look up at him, almost all ready to go and leave you hanging like always. He exhales softly and sits down over the edge of the bed, hand reaching out to you to brush your hair back from your face. “Please.” you add, tiredly blinking.

“Okay.” he simply declares in a soft whisper, fingers gently tracing your face. Your eyes close as you lean into his touch, sleep still holding a tight grasp over you.

“Why do you keep leaving” you monotonically, weakly ask, your tone successfully translating the hurt you feel. “All the time”

He halts and pulls away from you, like your reproach suddenly makes him undeserving of touching you. He takes some time before answering, and you're almost lulled back to sleep before the sound of his voice brings you back to reality and makes you open your eyes again. “I don't want you to think I'm doing all this just for a bed to sleep in” he explains, lips pinching skeptically.

You huff out softly, nuzzling against your arm. “It makes me think you're doing this just for a vagina to stick your dick in, Llewyn.”

“Shit, yeah. I'm sorry” he scoffs and sighs, looking out the window in reflection before looking back at you. “It's just– It's the whole opposite. I care about you. I don't wanna fuck this up” he declares, his hand coming to rest over your extended arm. “I didn't start right, I know. I’m sorry angel.” he pauses, softly chewing on his bottom lip. “I thought it was the right thing to do.”

You exhale, somehow ironically relieved that it's only this, that you're not the main part of the problem, that he actually wants you as much as you do. Your stomach flutters at the feeling of his thumb softly rubbing your bare skin, and you weakly but softly smile when you finally look back up at him.

“I only ever wanted you to stay” you mutter, hand reaching to cover his over your arm.

He tiredly smiles back at you, at last erasing the conflicted frown over his face.

“I only ever wanted to stay.”

—

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inside llewyn davis taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @scarabgrant @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @missmarmaladeth @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @campingwiththecharmings @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @spxctorsslxt @dowbastan

#llewyn davis #llewyn davis x reader #inside llewyn davis #llewyn davis smut #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #sorry for the tags it's just to reach more people^^#oscar isaac

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willalove75 · 8 months

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Keeley and Rebecca would gossip at lunch about Roy and Reader . Especially after seeing them workout together , reader has tattoos . Maybe they go on a double date or with Jack ? Some banter , teasing . Rebecca KNOWS what gets reader going 😳🔥

Yessss!! Love this request so much! Sorry I took literally FOREVER to get to it💕

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI

Tags: flirty, teasing

A/n: Holy shit it's been a MINUTE since I've done a Rebecca fic! I'm going to be trying to do a better job at responding to the Rebecca requests that have been in my inbox for months. I'm so sorry it's taken so long to get through them!

Rebecca and Keeley walk through the halls of AFC Richmond together as they're on their way to lunch. They make their way through the locker room in search of you. Rebecca knocks on Ted's office door and walks in.

"Well howdy boss! Keeley! What are you two rascals up to?"

"Good afternoon Ted." Rebecca says. "Have you seen y/n? I thought she would be in here."

"Ah, I think I saw her and Roy head into the gym a little while ago."

"Of course that's where they are." Keeley says with a playful eyeroll.

The duo head to the gym and lo and behold, there you were. You were doing bench presses and Roy was your spotter.

Rebecca's breath hitches in her chest when she sees you. Her eyes rake over your body, your legs spread on either side of the bench, the little arch in your back, the tight white tank top you had on - you must have pulled your work shirt off. She was practically drooling over the way your muscles flexed when you brought the bar down to your chest and pushed it back up. The tattoos covering your arms were glistening with a thin layer of sweat and it made her heart skip a beat. You didn't even know she was standing there and you were already driving her crazy. It was baffling to Rebecca that someone had such an effect on her.

"Hi babe!" Keeley says as she trots over to Roy and kisses him on the cheek.

As you bring the bar back down to your chest you hear Keeley and look over and see Rebecca practically gawking at you. You flash her a quick smirk before Roy brings you back to reality.

"You're not done yet." He growls. "Four more. For every second you stare at her I'm adding two more."

You quickly refocus and bang out the last four reps before Roy helps you rerack the bar. Using it as leverage, you pull yourself up into a sitting position and look back over at Rebecca who's strutting her way over to you.

"Hey babe." You say.

"Hello my love." She says, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"Well we were going to invite you to lunch, but it looks like you're rather preoccupied at the moment." Rebecca says.

You look over at Roy who lets out a low growl letting you know he's not finished kicking your ass yet.

"I'm sorry baby, but it looks like Oscar the Grouch here isn't done torturing me just yet."

"You asked for this." He deadpans.

"It's okay my love, we'll get lunch another time." She says.

"Okay lets go! I'm so hungry I could fuck a horse!" Keeley says.

You, Rebecca, and Roy all look at Keeley.

"Don't you mean 'eat a horse?'" You ask.

"Nope. Bye babe!" She says before kissing Roy and heading towards the door. "Lets go Rebecca!"

You shake your head at her and Rebecca looks down at you. Looking up at her like this does things to you and she knows it. She tries to do it as often as she can and it drives you wild. She bends forward and subtly squeezes her breasts together so you get the best view of her cleavage since you can see right down the front of her shirt. You can feel your cheeks turn red and it's not from working out. Rebecca cups under your chin and pulls you in for a kiss.

When she pulls away and you open your eyes you're met with a beautiful pair of piercing green eyes staring back at you. Your heart stutters in your chest and she gives you a little smirk.

"I'll see you later, love." Is all she says before turning around and walking away. She sways her hips a little as she walks away and you develop an ache between your legs.

After she leaves you drag your hands down your face and groan.

"That woman will be the death of me."

Roy snickers at you and you shoot him a look.

"You chose that punishment. I have no sympathy. Lets go, you have two more sets to finish and then I'm throwing you in the ice tub." You groan in protest. "After that little, whatever the fuck that was, you're gonna need it."

At lunch Rebecca and Keeley are seated at a table and they go over the menu after placing their drink orders. Rebecca is chewing on her bottom lip as she looks over the menu and Keeley giggles at her.

"What?" Rebecca asks.

"You."

"What about me?"

"She really got you flustered by just existing, didn't she?" Rebecca rolls her eyes at Keeley and looks back at the menu. "Oh come on! I saw the way you were looking at her and how you practically eye fucked her in front of the entire team!"

"Keeley Jones! I did no such thing!"

"Oh yes you did and you know it!"

"I wasn't eye fucking her, just, playfully flirting."

"Yeah, okay. Anyway, we should go on a double date, we haven't done that in ages!"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Friday night?"

"Perfect."

Friday night rolls around and you and Rebecca and dressed and off to your double date with Roy and Keeley. Her driver drops you off at the restaurant and Keeley and Roy pull up right after you. After exchanging hello's the four of you head inside and are lead to your table. Drinks and orders are placed and the conversation starts to pick up.

"So how do you think the boys are going to do at next weeks match?" Rebecca asks Roy.

"They better kick their fucking asses." He says.

"How's Isaac's injury?" Keeley asks you.

"He should be fine to play next week. Luckily he didn't tear anything in his knee so I worked on him throughout the week to try and strengthen it so he should be good to go." You say.

"Well that's a relief." Rebecca says.

You go to speak but your words die on your lips when you feel a foot drag up your leg. Looking across the table at Rebecca, she's resting her chin in her hand and looking at you as if she's not teasing the shit out of you right now.

"Are you okay, love?" She asks.

"Yup. All good." You say as you take a sip of your drink.

Her foot climbs higher and pushes your legs apart a little and you try to not choke on your drink. Thank god Roy and Keeley started talking about something else so they don't see you struggling.

The waitress comes over with your food and you feel Rebecca's foot pull away and a wave of relief washes over you. The four of you start eating and just as you're about to take a bite her foot begins stroking your leg again. Looking at Rebecca she has a smirk on her face and you watch as she slowly brings her fork to her mouth and wraps her lips around it before pulling it away. You take a sip of water when you feel your face flushing. This woman can breathe in your direction and immediately fluster you.

"So how has working out with Roy been?" Keeley asks you,

"It's been really good, he's been kicking my ass."

"You needed it." He says.

"Okay, listen-"

"That wasn't a question."

"Such a prick." You laugh.

"Why have you been working out so much, love?" Rebecca asks.

"I don't know, I like it. Especially since I have full access to a gym at work I mean, why not?"

"You have certainly gotten stronger over the last few weeks." She says as she reaches across the table and squeezes your bicep. She's subtle about it but you can feel her drag her nails across your skin as she pulls away.

"Thanks." You sputter and try to cover it with a sip of your drink.

Throughout dinner Rebecca keeps catching your eye, maintaining eye contact when she takes a bite of her food, watching you squirm when her foot grazes the inside of your thigh. She drives you crazy the entire night.

The waitress brings out dessert and Rebecca maintains eye contact with you once more as she takes a scoop of her dessert and eats it.

"Here." She says. "Try it."

Rebecca picks up a spoonful and reaches across the table and feeds you. She slips the spoon between your lips painfully slow and pulls it out at the same pace, not once breaking eye contact. You let out a small moan and try to play it off as if you're moaning about the dessert. Keeley and Roy don't seem to notice but Rebecca's eyes flash with lust for a moment.

She reaches across the table again and drags her thumb across your bottom lip, wiping away some of the dessert left behind.

By the end of the night you're squirming, the heat between your legs is damn near unbearable and she knows it.

You say your goodbyes to Keeley and Roy and climb into the car. Rebecca pushes the button to pull up the privacy divider between the front and back seats of the car and looks at you with lust in her eyes. You try and make a move but she stops you pinning you back against the seat. A pathetic moan leaves your lips and she smirks.

"What's the matter, love?" She says as her lips ghost the shell of your ear.

"Rebecca." You pant.

"Yes love?" She asks before placing soft, open mouthed kisses on your neck. "What's the matter? Got you all worked up?"

"Yes." You groan.

"So easy to fluster."

"Please."

Rebecca cups your core and presses her fingers against your soaked panties.

"All this for me?" You nod your head.

She pulls her hand away and you whine.

"Don't worry my love, when we get home I'll have you whining for all of the best reasons."

#willalove75 #hannah waddingham #rebecca welton #rebecca welton x reader #wlw fanfic #rebecca welton fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso

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nayziiz · 2 months

Text

Team Dynamics | LN4

Summary: To celebrate the launch of their 2024 car for the upcoming F1 season, McLaren hosts a masquerade gala event that sees two souls connect and lead to a whirlwind romance. Unfortunately, the pair realise soon after that they are to work together quite closely after they agreed it would only be a one-night thing.

Warnings: Smut, alcohol, one night stand, unprotected sex

Pairing: Gemma (I don't like writing with Y/N or reader) x Lando Norris

Series Masterlist

In the aftermath of Gemma's brief hospitalisation due to food poisoning, Lando's devotion and care for her took centre stage. Their connection, already profound, deepened as he steadfastly remained by her side throughout the recovery process. Lando's presence was a constant source of comfort, offering both emotional and practical support. From the moment Gemma opened her eyes to the sterile hospital room surroundings, Lando was there, a reassuring figure ensuring that she was not alone in facing the aftermath of the illness.

As they navigated the challenges of her recuperation together, their conversations became more intimate, revealing layers of themselves that had remained hidden before. Gemma's feelings for Lando, already present, intensified unexpectedly. The shared vulnerability of the hospital room created a unique space where emotions simmered to the surface. The way he seamlessly balanced taking care of her practical needs with offering emotional support made her realise the depth of her affection for him. The constant companionship and his willingness to put her well-being above all else brought a heightened sense of closeness.

In those moments when Lando briefly stepped away to attend to necessary errands, Gemma found herself eagerly awaiting his return, aching for the comfort his presence provided. The simple act of him bringing food or fresh clothes became symbolic of a burgeoning connection that surpassed friendship. Gemma, surprised by the intensity of her emotions, began to acknowledge the profound impact Lando had on her heart. The hospital stay, though challenging, served as a catalyst for an unexpected but welcomed evolution in their relationship, leaving Gemma with a realisation that her feelings for Lando had deepened into something more significant than she could have anticipated.

The tension in the McLaren pit is palpable as the team eagerly anticipates the qualifying results at Silverstone, their home race. The pressure is especially intense for Lando, with fans and the team hopeful for his first-ever win.

Gemma, seated at the pit wall, monitors the proceedings with a focused gaze. As the McLaren drivers head out for qualifying, she watches them navigate down the pitlane before turning her attention to the data screens in front of her. Oscar's car showcases promise after recent upgrades, securing a provisional second fastest lap time within the first ten minutes of the session.

However, Gemma's attention shifts to Lando's data, and a sense of concern creeps in as she notices his car is not performing as expected.

“I have zero pace.” Lando's mumbled voice breaks the radio silence, expressing his frustration.

“Copy, we’re investigating.” Andrea confirms.

The team mobilises to analyse the data and identify the issues affecting Lando's performance. The high stakes of the home race amplify the pressure on the team, leaving Gemma and her colleagues on the edge of their seats as they work to address the challenges and support their drivers. Harry, perplexed by the discrepancies, calls over one of his fellow analysts for a fresh perspective.

“I don’t understand.” Harry tells Andrea over their radio. “Everything looks good on this side.”

“Lando, continue with your slow lap. We’re still looking into it.” Andrea tells Lando who simply grunts in response. “Gemma, would you mind having a look too.”

As Gemma delves into the analysis alongside Harry and the team, the urgency in the pit grows. The collaborative effort intensifies, with each member working diligently to uncover the root cause of Lando's unexpected performance issues, aiming to rectify the situation before the crucial qualifying session concludes.

“Can I speak to Lando?” Gemma inquires.

“Go ahead.” Andrea confirms. “Channel is clear for comms.”

“Lando, it’s Gemma.” She informs him.

“Gem. What’s happening with the car?” Lando asks her.

“What’s the highest gear you can get?” She implores.

“Can’t get higher than fifth on the straights.” Lando informs her.

“Copy. Hang tight, Lando, we’re taking a closer look.” She assures him.

“Gemma? What do you think the issue is?” Andrea asks.

“It seems to be a hydraulic issue. Very minor, but enough to affect his acceleration.” Gemma explains.

“Should we retire the car?” Andrea asks.

“Preferably. We’re at risk of causing more damage if he keeps pushing.” Gemma agrees.

“Lando, please retire the car. Box, box.” Andrea radios Lando.

“Copy.” Lando responds.

He returns to the pitlane on his next outlap, parks the car outside the McLaren garage, and climbs out. With visible disappointment, he walks over to the pitwall, where Gemma and the team await, collectively processing the challenges faced during the home race qualifying session at Silverstone.

“Can they fix it before the race tomorrow?” He asks Andrea.

“We should be ready to go for the race.” Andrea confirms. “Starting P15 tomorrow, though, sorry about that.”

“Good thing Gemma caught the issue early enough.” Lando states, appreciating the efforts of the team and Gemma in particular, finding a silver lining in the situation.

He smiles, acknowledging Gemma's keen observation that prevented potential complications during the upcoming race. Lando, seeking a moment of respite, retreats into the garage as the crew wraps up the remaining tasks associated with the qualifying session. The familiar hum of activity surrounds him as mechanics work diligently to prepare the cars for the upcoming race.

Inside the garage, Lando takes the opportunity to refuel both physically and mentally. He grabs something to eat and drink, allowing himself a brief pause to recharge before diving back into the intense atmosphere of race weekend preparations. As the sounds of the pitlane echo outside, Lando takes a moment of solitude, gathering his thoughts and preparing for the challenges that await him on the race day at Silverstone.

“Great job today, Osc.” Gemma congratulates Oscar when she passes him in the garage.

“I heard you saved Lando’s race tomorrow.” Oscar comments as he glances at the mechanics working on Lando’s car. “He better celebrate that win with you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him that.” Gemma chuckles as she retreats to the hospitality suite to get herself some water and a snack.

Gemma spots Lando chatting to some fans as she walks up behind him. The one girl is particularly handsy with the driver who attempts to step back, but she’s persistent. A sudden rage fills Gemma as she approaches the small group. Without hesitation, Gemma intervenes, stepping between Lando and the overzealous fan. Her expression is firm, and her tone carries a no-nonsense authority as she addresses the situation.

“Lando, the boys want to take a photo in the garage before the photographers leave for the day.” Gemma asserts as she shields Lando and glances at the fans. “Sorry, girls.”

Lando, still wearing a grateful smile for the fans, complies with Gemma's lead as she guides him into the garage. Recognizing the need for privacy, Gemma redirects him towards his driver's room, and as they step inside, she firmly shuts the door behind them.

The quiet confines of the driver's room offer a sanctuary away from the bustling activities in the garage. Gemma, concerned for Lando's well-being, addresses the incident with a protective edge in her voice.

"You okay?" She asks, ensuring that the intrusion from the fan didn't leave any lasting impact on him. Lando, appreciating Gemma's concern, nods with a genuine smile.

“They just did not want to let me go, thanks.” Lando breathes, his hand resting on his chest.

“Poor girl wouldn’t stop touching you.” Gemma sighs as she watches Lando strip off his fireproof top leaving him bare chested.

“You just keep saving my ass today, huh?” Lando counters.

“I mean, who else?” Gemma teases.

“You’re kinda hot when you get all jealous.” Lando retorts.

“Me? Jealous? I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.” Gemma smirks, shaking her head.

“Yeah, you. Can’t share?” Lando teases her.

“Oh, no. Would you share your car with anyone?” Gemma asks as she rolls her eyes at him while he takes a step closer to her.

“Mmh, you make a good point.” Lando agrees. “We both don’t like sharing things we can ride.”

“Ew, stop.” Gemma laughs as she pushes her hand against his bare chest.

“You’re so sexy when you’re flustered.” He tells her as his hands land on her hips. “And, so turned on out of jealousy and all for me.”

“You’re the only one that makes me feel this way.” Gemma finally admits.

“Good.” Lando mumbles before he places a sweet kiss against her lips.

They kiss for a few minutes before Lando shuffles her over to the massage bed and lifts her up so she’s sitting on the bed.

“I have waited so long to kiss you again.” He whispers into her neck. “It’s been torture.”

Her fingers crawl into his hair and grip onto his curls as he continues to kiss down her neck. His hands travel up her thighs and under skirt.

“Consider yourself set free.” Gemma informs him and he pulls away from her, eyes wide. “Whatever you’ve been wanting, whatever you hoped for, I’m happy to give it a chance.”

“You serious?” Lando asks, his eyes glistening with hope.

“You’re all I ever think about, Lando.” She tells him as she cups his face in her hands. “I’ve just been too scared to admit it to myself, because I don’t want to get hurt again.”

“What changed your mind?” Lando wonders.

“No matter what, you’re always choosing me. You chose to stick around. You carried me to safety in the middle of the freaking woods. You could have let that girl flirt with you, yet you chose to come back inside with me. No one has ever chosen me or prioritised me the way you have and done it so patiently and confidently.” Gemma explains to him.

“God, I am so very much in love with you, Gem.” Lando admits, immediately sparking the blush in her cheeks once again. “From the second you told me that stupid refrigerator joke, I was done for.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me.” Gemma continues and sweetly kisses him again.

The following day during the race, Lando is able to move up from P15 to P3 and charges after Leclerc in P2 with only five laps left. Gemma’s eyes shift between the data streaming in on Oscar’s car and the race footage above it as she watches Lando driving. The mechanics found the issue with his hydraulic system and fixed it before the race started. He was driving brilliantly, but like a man possessed, determined to win his home race.

Gemma bites her nails as the anticipation becomes palpable around her as Lando takes second place from Leclerc with Max not far ahead. Four laps left.

“Head down and keep pushing.” Andrea radios Lando.

Three laps left and Lando is almost within DRS range. Two laps left and Lando has DRS. Lando and Max go wheel-to-wheel with Lando taking the lead coming into the Wellington straight and pulling away from Max. The McLaren crew starts cheering in the garage and the pitwall starts buzzing with chatter. One lap left. Lando still has a lead over Max. This is his race to win. Lando comes around Stowe and the crew rush to the pitwall as the chequered flag comes out. Lando sees the chequered flag first and roars over the finish line, winning his first ever F1 race at his home circuit.

The pit wall crew embrace each other as they cheer and celebrate Lando’s win. Tears well up in Gemma's eyes as she watches his onboard cool down lap before he pulls up against the P1 board. He gets out of the car and throws his hands up in victory. The crew envelope him and sing his praises and jump around. They eventually let him go as he looks up and spots Gemma proudly smiling, her hands clasped in front of her mouth. He jogs over to her and picks her up and spins her around.

“This is for you, baby!” He exclaims. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him as she grips his helmet in her hands.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #mclaren #mclaren f1

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adventuringblind · 7 months

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Drive With You Forever

Chapter fifteen: Figuring it Out

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Chapter summary: The reader has a dream, books are burned, the reader gets sick again, but the doctors are nice this time!

Warnings: Every form of abuse is depicted in this story. Sickness, vomiting, fever, nightmares, panic attacks, graphic description of SA, child SA, Rape, unconsenual medical procedures, mild implied SH,

Notes: This is so long. I couldn't find a good stopping point, so I just kept going...

Previous <-

Masterlist

Why is everything so blurry?

The lights are swimming and she can't seem to find her footing. They world beauty her seeming to sway.

She blinks away the feeling, looking to find her center and figure out what’s going on.

“…test number six hundred and thirty four…” says a muffled voice from somewhere in front of her. A familiar voice at that. She hauls herself of the ground as her vision begins to clear up.

She’s still in the basement. Where did everyone else go? She scans the room in search of any sign that their comfort is near.

Her panic increases as she can’t see them. Her chest becomes heavy at the thought of being trapped here once again.

Then she sees his face. For a moment she locks eyes with him, but he passes right by here without a thought.

He keeps circling her wooden box of a bed. She must be in someone’s memory. She would says it’s her own but she doesn’t remember this. Or she does and she just locked in away.

She knew she was unconscious or incoherent enough that she could never quite tell what was happening aside from the feelings. Normally, pain. Sometimes, there were differences in textures. Occasionally, hands.

He’s working in her unconscious body. He sticks her body with all sorts of things she cannot name.

She doesn’t want to be here for this. She doesn’t want to see herself go through this. Feel those things again.

She runs runs up the stairs only to find herself back in the basement room.

There are so many people here. All of them dressed in odd looking costumes. It almost looks like a Halloween party but if the theme was pilgrims.

She sees her unconscious body again. This time layer out in the middle of the floor, bare for everyone to see.

Why are they taking turns touching her in such a way? Was the feeling of hands never just her fathers?

She feels sick. She thought the first time her body had gone through such a thing was the Max. It was different then. He was gentle and kind and he constantly asked if she was okay.

Again she makes an attempt at an escape. Again she find herself in the same room in a memory that’s not her own. Her father has been here in every single one. She assumes that it’s his memory, his connection to her amplified by her wooden coffin.

She’s sitting in the box, playing with strands of light that dance out of her fingertips. She looks at herself and there is no recognition. Her eyes are hazy and the motions feel robotic.

She’d always hated waking from these trances he’d put her in. No memory of what she’d done.

“It’s not enough! Why can’t I amplify your power?” He growls. He’s lankier in this memory then he was when he came to the paddock. His face less wrinkly and no grey hairs in sight. She must have been about ten if she remembered his appearance correctly.

Another man comes down the stares but her past self makes no movement.

“If she can’t bear a child we’ll be finished.” The figure is cloaked in darkness. His voice echoes through the room.

“I’m aware.” Her father spits.

“We need their power if we want to continue living.”

Living? She wondered at times how her father seemed to have knowledge beyond his years. The stories he’d shared about how her mother kept him young she thought was nothing more then a myth.

They are exploiting her. They need her. They need her body and power to continue to keep their supposed immortality.

How is that even possible.

“I’ve managed to make the constraints less.”

“Show me.”

She assumes that whoever this dark shadowy figure is, is in charge.

She watches as a rotten apple it placed in front of her unresponsive body. She still makes no move. Not even a sound.

“Fix it.”

Her past self obeys the command and lets the light dance around the the apple. It begins curling itself around the shape. She can feel the warmth through her own skin.

It’s beautiful in a way. How the light moves and repairs.

This time the memory fades away. The room shifting into something unfamiliar. She’d never see this place before.

It’s a wooden building. It feel hollow and smells of mildew. The men from before are once again dressed up, but they all look different.

They are doing what they did to her. Their terrible ritual. The women’s body in the center is unconscious, but she looks far different from her mother.

Aside from the hair. She’d seen picture of her mother. Their hair practically identical and now this woman’s is as well.

They take her apart as well. It's strange how they drink the crimson leaking from her. Her father was a human as far as she was aware. So why were these people acting like vampires?

Something, a woman’s voice, warm and kind, tells her to watch these men. Each one that takes instantly becomes younger. Any hints of wrinkles gone. Their hair becomes full and vibrant.

Then the scene vanishes.

Everything is dark and she doesn’t want to be alone in it.

The voice calls her further in, and she wastes no time sprinting towards it. The abyss seems to never end.

The voice gets louder as a ghostly figure comes into view. It’s familiar and it’s kind.

It’s her mother.

She halts in front of it. Just an arms length away.

“I can feel that you’re frightened. There is no need to fear me.”

“But you died.” Her voice is shaky and confused. She feels so small in comparison to the figure.

“It’s a connection we all share.”

“What are we?”

“Witches I suppose. Maybe a deity of some kind.” She shrugs. “You’ve been so strong to face this alone.” The ghost reaches to touch, and she finds herself leaning into it. It’s not cold but comforting.

“How were you making them younger?”

“It’s something inside us. Some drink out blood, others use sex, and when strong enough, it can even come from just a touch with someone you have a strong connection with.” She explains.

“What about my other powers then? Could you do that too?”

“That, unfortunately, was your fathers doing. The healing comes from your bloodline, the rest is something I don’t understand.” She sighs with a hint if exasperation. “I’m sorry, that I haven’t been there. You’ve managed to suppress more then I would’ve imagined.”

“I’m sorry I killed you.” Her eyes find her feet. The shame of why she is this way creeping back in.

The ghost leans down to her. “That was not your fault. That could’ve never been your fault and there wasn’t anything you could do to stop it. We’re not immune to death.”

She feels herself being dragged away and into the void. “No!” She screams. “Don’t leave me!”

The ghost reaches out to her one last time and kisses her forehead. She feels an energy she’s never had before flowing through her veins. It’s not scary though, it’s welcoming. “I’ve always been here and I’m not going anywhere.”

She can’t even register the tears as she falls into the void. The once welcoming feeling now morphing into the ones she felt earlier.

Hands. Needles. Whispers. Breaths. Knives. Teeth.

An endless fall into the fear she knows so well.

Lando is still awake despite everyone’s best attempts to get him to sleep. He’d been awake for almost twenty four hours. His eyes are heavy and he wants to succumb to sleep so badly, but he can’t. His mind refuses to stop thinking about every possibility.

This is why he’s able to react to the ear-piercing scream so quickly. While everyone else is stumbling around, he’s taking the stairs by two. Hanna told them to stay out of the room and let her rest meaning they were stuck in the downstairs room.

Of course Seb is at the door before him.

Seb opens in and Lando is bounding over to the distressed female. Her hands are clawing at her own skin to the point she’s drawing blood. Her eyes are screwed shut and her legs are trying to move her away from something even though she’s not getting far. Eventually she hits the headboard.

“Y/N, it’s me, open your eyes please love your safe now.” He whispers. It comes out shaky because he’s distressed but he knows he needs to keep himself as calm as possible.

Seb stands at the side of one of the beds. She’s feeling for an exit and will fall off if she keeps it up. He lets Lando soothe her. His whispers helping the screams to die out.

The other three appear in the door as well. Only for a few seconds though before they’ve dispersed to grab things.

Finally Lando coax’s her into opening her eyes. She’s still rubbing at her skin, clawing lines into it, but she sees him. “There you are.” He smiles at her. Her breathing is still massively uneven, but she lets him get a little closer. “Can I come over to you?”

She just stares at him. Then she just breaks into sobs. Her body freezing in its place as she attempts to curl even further into herself.

Whether she wants it or not, Lando is crawling own to her. Pulling her body into his chest and protectively wrapping him arms around her. She did this for him too. It’s where he learned it actually. She told him that ‘sometimes when we want to make ourselves small, it’s nice to have someone much to protect us’ so they all did it for each other.

She had no mercy on her skin and he’s thankful when Max comes in with bandages.

She starts trying to flail her body and fight them as they get them on her. Lando is constantly reassuring her through the whole ordeal.

Charles is the one to suggest music. Another noise for her to focus on while they try and get her cleaned up. He throws on his recorded piano songs that she’d taken pride in watching him create.

She does relax at the sound. Reduced to just choked sobs now.

Seb had to go check on his own children. They’d woken to the sound and had worried. He’d gone to reassure them with Hanna that everything is going to be alright with their sister.

She tires herself out in Lando’s arms. No tears left to cry despite her body attempting. “I remember." She croaks.

All of them freeze. They don’t push her to continue but they attempt to get comfortable. She uncurls herself but still clings to Lando like her life depends on it.

Oscar is drowsy from having his sleep interrupted and Lando can clearly see it on his face. His head goes into Charles’ lap and the Monegasque looks down at him endearingly.

Max is across from her but holding hands with the Monegasque like he’d been doing since Charles started trying to close himself off.

“Take whatever time you need, chéri.”

She has yet to look at any of them completely. Her face still mostly hidden in Lando’s shirt. “I’m sorry.”

They all look at her confused. Then at each other for some sign that one of them know why she would apologize. Then back to her with no answers.

“Why are you apologizing?” Lando whispers into her hair.

Her nails attempt to find her skin again but Max catches her in the act. He now sets himself beside her and lets the girl play with his fingers. Charles slips off a couple of his rings for him. She’d been fascinated with them and messed with them to keep her hands busy.

Her hands did it without Max even having to guide her. Though the rings don’t fit anywhere but his pinky.

“Do you remember Max, when you took me when is was just us two. Still no idea Charles would be joining us in a month and completely clueless?”

“Yes, it was a miracle I lasted as long as I did. How could I ever forget that.” He smiles at her.

She inhales shakily. “You weren’t the first.” She confesses. All four of them now understand what she’s meaning. They’d seen the videos. Why someone would ever record that was beyond them. They planned to burn the laptop if and when she said the could.

She looks directly at him now. “I feel gross.” The empty tear ducts only leave her with small drops of liquid. “I feel violated and like I’ve lied to all of you.”

“You have done nothing wrong here. You are a victim.” Max stops her before she can get any farther. “What they did to you was wrong and unforgivable.”

“We found videos and images on his laptop, amour. We saw.”

Lando can feel her starting to hyperventilate again as she struggles to get out of his hold. “We skipped anything that had you in it. It made us all sick and we couldn’t do that to your privacy. We did listen to your fathers monologues though.”

She instantly calmed down again. Her hands once again finding the rings on Max’s fingers.

“There so much more. Everything that I am. Everything I can do.” She hold her hands up for them to see and the mesmerizing glowing lights appear once more. “I’d forgotten about this. It’s beautiful. And it’s completely mine.”

“What do you mean by completely yours?” Oscar asks with a yawn. He’s exhausted but still trying to remain present for her.

“I saw memories of those who came before me. I’m some sort of magical being I think and it’s been passed down for generations. The healing and gift of immortality is mine. That’s from my bloodline. Everything else is the work of my father in order to expand on that trait and bring my mother back.” She explains. Even though the story is tragic, she seems at piece with knowing. Like she able to understand herself better now.

“Immortality?”

“My bloody and body heal. It has the ability to give back someone’s youth. That’s why they need me back, they’re aging now.” Once again, the feeling of hands crawls around her skin. She shivers lightly and tries to keep herself grounded.

“I couldn’t control it before now. My father had to go through extensive procedures before I could be of use to them. It’s like I turned it off. But I have it now if I want it. Or if I’m unconscious, I suppose.”

“We want to burn the laptop and some of the journals if you’ll allow us.” Proposes the Brit. He’s not sure that she’ll. Say yes, it maybe the comfort of the idea will help her to stay calm.

“Can we do it now?”

Seb and Hanna meet them outside at the fire pit. The kids once again tucked away into bed.

The fire is already raging. Books and computer in hand.

“They tried to burn us. Maybe this completes the circle in a way.”

They all take turns tossing things in and watching it go up in flames.

As her family locks hands with each other, she knows everything will be okay.

It most certainly doesn’t feel like it right now and she has more fighting to do.

But they’ll be next to her, fighting with her, every step of the way.

The very idea that a cult is after them sends Max's thoughts into overdrive. He wanted to go downstairs and discuss with everybody, but a certain Australian is clinging to him like he'll die if he doesn't.

Him and Oscar sleep the most out of the five. This is what he's become used to since he started staying with them. Mornings where the Aussie are curled up into him have become something he looks forward to.

Currently, however, he knows he'll have to wake him up if they are going to be productive today.

Max makes an attempt at escape but ends up just pulling Oscar with him. He mumbles and shifts a bit before opening his own eyes.

"Morning sleepy head."

"It's too early." Disgruntled groans follow the statement.

Max lets out a breathy laugh. "I know, you can go back to sleep if you want."

"But you're leaving."

"Would you rather me carry you?"

Max didn't know what he was expecting, but walking down the stairs with a sleepy Australian on his back wasn't it.

The fact that the sight brought a smile to the faces of all his lovers made the effort worth it. They join the other three at the table. Oscar looks like he might fall asleep on the table.

“How are you feeling?” He asks toward the female. She’s playing with her food and sitting with her knees tucked into her chest.

“She hasn’t kept food down yet.” Sighs Charles who’s sitting next to her. She scrunches up her nose when he says it.

Max nods his head. The ever looming sickness strikes again. “I think we should move.”

“Again?!” Lando rolls his eyes. Max already knows how much the Brit hates moving. They’ve moves so much the last few years that he’s come to despise it.

“Well, kind of.” Max leans back in his chair and the other four eye him expectantly. “I think we should closer to Seb and Hanna but also keep the Monaco apartment. That way we’ll always have somewhere to come back too.”

“Logical idea.” Oscar says to the table. "We could do that during summer break since it's coming up soon."

"For now, we need to decide if we should stay here or go back to Monaco."

The female looks at her food and then back at them. "I love it here, but I think Hanna and Seb wouldn't appreciate us doing things in their house."

"What does that have to do with this?" Asks Lando. Innocent. Pure actual innocence.

"Because someone can only go so long."

Charles eyes to female cautiously. She'd yet to keep anything down. Reduced to dry heaving every few minutes.

"You don't have to sit on the bathroom floor with me."

"Mm true. But I want to." He runs his fingers along her spine. It’s the only comforting feeling she has to cling to at the moment. Even as she’s back to heaving up nothing, he’s still comforting her.

When it passes, Charles leans her back against his chest. “Do you think it’s your powers?”

“Honestly? No.” Charles hums. He doesn’t push her to continue. He just continues to give her a feeling to ground herself with; his fingers now finding hers as she goes to play with his rings. “It’s the memories. Knowing what actually happened to me. It doesn’t feel real but I can’t escape the feeling of hands that I didn’t want on me.”

She heaves again. Harder this time then previously. Like somehow speaking it made it real and more intense. She leans back into him. “It’s not fair, Charlie. Especially to you four. How are we supposed to live like this?” Her voice is so broken. It’s a sound that will haunt him.

“Will figure it out, Mon amour. But first I think we need to get sustenance in your body.”

“What’s the point?” She groans. “It’s just going to come back up. I would eat anything if it meant I could keep it down.”

“I think I might have an idea.” Charles smiles down at her and kisses the top of her head.

Ice cream is his idea. The boys went out to get it and were diligent in avoiding people. The thought of their trainers finding out keeping them from just walking around like normal people.

Charles had dragged Max with him while the other two stayed behind to look after the female.

"I feel like we're on a secret mission."

"And yet you're drawing attention to yourself by ducking around the corners."

"Andrea will have my head if he finds out about this."

It took them an hour to get back. and things had gotten worse when they did.

Lando greets them at the door. They are thankful the Seb and Hanna took the kids out for the day. having the house to themselves makes this a bit easier.

"Oscar is attempting to force water down her throat. It's getting worse." There is a certain anxiety in the Brits voice that Charles can't ignore.

"What do you mean worse?" Max beats him to the question.

Lando runs a hand through his curls. "She's spiked a fever, and she passes while you two were done." He bounces on the balls of his heels. "Also, she keeps muttering in her sleep and it's starting to freak me out."

The three make their way up to the female. Charles grimaces at the sight. She's panting and drenched in sweat.

Lando is right. He can see her mouth moving frantically. Her eyes flicker back and forth behind shut lids.

"She fell asleep again. I got some water in her before she did." Oscar looks at her nervously. It's the same look he has whenever she's not doing well. Now they know better than to force him away from her. Last time they tried he didn't speak to them for a day.

"I hate to say it, but we're gonna need to find a way to get fluids in her consistently." Max sighs heavily. They all know it's necessary but taking her back to the doctors comes with so many risks.

"What about a private doctor?"

"Even then it would be risky."

Max ponders. They need to think of something or risk her dying of dehydration. "We'll try the emergency room and hope they are so busy they won't pay close attention to her bloodwork. like the did the first time."

Lando didn't think pulling Oscar away from her would be so damn difficult. He's been running the opposite direction of anything medical related since he got out of the hospital.

"Osc, it's just a few minutes to they can get her set up in a room." He tries to reason with the younger. "How about we go get some air and we can talk about this."

The Aussie finally gives in, letting his arm go slack. Lando almost falls over at the sudden lack of resistance.

He jumps on the opportunity to guide him out of the building. He keeps their fingers interlocked. Lando couldn't care less if the vultures pounce on them. He desperately needs to get them away from the anxiety inducing building until they can see her.

Charles or Max would probably be batter at calming him then Lando. But Max was the one who went back with her since he knows her medical history like the back of his hand and has the excuses they planned to use if anyone got suspicious. Charles is on the phone with Seb talking about what's going on.

That leaves Lando. The most anxious out of all of them.

"Wanna talk about what's going on in your head?" They continue walking, hopefully the air will do them both good even if it's a parking lot.

"It's hard to explain." Oscar admits. "It was terrible being drugged out of consciousness. And I thought I was dreaming, but she came to check on me. She bargained for my safety." Lando can feel Oscar's hands starting to relax a bit. He's not fighting so hard anymore. "Then, when we started to try and make our way out, she saved me again. She was exhausted and I had to carry her at one point but it was so cold and damp and dark. I just never want to leave her like that again."

Lando thinks back to when he stumbled across them. How Oscar kicked and screamed at them, the females body in his protective grip. Somehow, they'd kept each other alive, and now Oscar feels the effects of the trauma that has bonded them together.

Lando stops them next to a relatively secluded part of the lot. He spins around and places his hands on either side of Oscar's face. "I promise you that we're never going to let that happen again. We're going to figure this out. What they did to you both is not something I'll say I understand, but I hear you. You and her are safe, and we're going to do our best to keep it that way."

Seb stands in the doorway with Max and Charles. His daughter now, thankfully, awake with a broken fever. The unfortunate part is that there are about four doctors standing around her asking her questions.

They'd been very specific with the Max. Mainly because the Dutch refused to let them near her when they said there were irregularities in her DNA.

They won't do anything without consent.

Yet the boys are still standing guard. Max's eyes haven't left her body, and Charles is trying to keep him from slamming the door open and kicking all of them out of the room.

The doctors step away from and exit the room. Seb grabs Max's arm in an attempt to keep him stationary.

The interaction certainly doesn’t look like much. Yet Seb can see the way she tries to curl herself farther away from them. They don’t advance, just continue talking. He can’t help but admire the respect they have for the traumatized girl.

Three of the doctors nod at them and walk away. The fourth closes the door behind him and steps in front of sebastian.

"We're going to discharge her. We think it was a psychological response to something, but otherwise, she should be okay to leave."

Seb thanks the man. His chest is relieved of the weight sitting on it since he'd gotten the call.

They didn't go back to Monaco. Instead, they flew directly to Hungary. It was her request since she wasn't sure she could stomach multiple trips. It was only a few days earlier than they needed to be there.

Max had gotten his own hotel room this time. The place is massive and luxurious. It's not like it's shocking or that she's not used to it by now. Her mind just recalls a time when her and Max were in a barely standard sized room eating comfort food while avoiding Brad.

"I don't know you, but I am exhausted." Lando let's out a large yawn to further prove his point.

Max drops his bags and turns to face the group. "That's a shame. Guess you won't get to join us then." A playful smirk tugs on his lips. She's not exactly sure what the plans are, but with the cheeky glint in the Dutchmans eye she knows they are in for a long night.

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bestworstcase · 22 days

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@cryptidblues tumblr ate this one too, maybe drop tumblr support a line to check if you’ve been erroneously shadowbanned

Oscar is dying! He’s dying! We’re getting the full weight and crisis of the merge in volume 10 I NEED IT. The image of him collapsed on the sand as the sunrises with his back to the long memory OOUGH just like Ruby and crescent rose after she drank the tea, before the tree took her. The reversal on “I don’t want to be me anymore” / please let me stay myself. The lad is being eaten alive! From the inside out! By an unstoppable brain parasite that will kill him! And Replace Him! I Need the slow build up of horror from Oscar and everyone involved. “And Oscar…just isn’t himself” they’re place setting. Getting the table ready. Ooh yknow he’s hiding those merge episodes/attacks from his friends. I NEED the existential terror and dread! BUT I NEED THE CATHARSIS OF OSCAR BEING KNOWN, SEEN & SAVED TOO ;-;

NOT to make a post oscar about ozma instead but the thing that is really, really pulling the hinges off for me is the implication that this is happening because oz started actively fighting the merge. as long as oscar resisted and oz kept up the drumbeat of “this is inevitable, there is nothing either of us can do,” the curse kept on quietly eroding oscar as the boundary became thinner and thinner between them. it was, for lack of a better term, stable.

the moment oz tries to resist, the curse starts trying to rip him forward. to force him to take over, inflicting what seems to be torturous amounts of pain on both of them. the subtle, silent, invisible violence that was inflicted on oscar before explodes outward to attack both of them.

how many times have i said this curse is specifically designed to make it impossible for ozma to change? that the whole point is to prevent ozma from ever changing his mind or defying the god of light? never doubt me. the literal fucking instant ozma tries to break free, the curse becomes YOU DO NOT HAVE A CHOICE.

the curse had a failsafe the whole time.

/ozma tangent

oscar though. this poor kid. like the greatest burden on his shoulders in the last four volumes has always been that no one wants to openly acknowledge what’s happening to him and the nature of the merge’s violence being so completely internal means that no one has to look at it except him. and he’s been so isolated in that existential dread but he’s also grown so accustomed to being treated like just. the next ozpin. that when the violence abruptly becomes externalized in reaction to oz’s resistance, oscar… hides it. keeps it to himself. somewhere deep down the idea that it doesn’t matter to anyone what happens to him got lodged in his brain so deeply that he keeps it hidden!!

and i’m obsessed with the emotional complexity the layers of what he’s feeling with regard to ruby, because it’s not as simple as that he misses her and aspires to her optimism; there’s also some underlying resentment there (“you were always so sure that everything would work out…right up until the moment it didn’t” <- paraphrasing) because she was wrong and he wishes he could borrow her certainty but she was wrong. she fell. she was wrong.

BUT AT THE SAME TIME, everyone else believes that they’re gone forever. that they’re dead. oscar doesn’t. he’s thinking about it in terms of where they might have gone, what might have happened to them, he’s doing research because deep down, there’s a teeny tiny spark of hope that hasn’t been extinguished yet. so there’s this subtext of i wish i had your certainty. even though you were wrong. i’m still trying to find you. we’re still fighting this. you always saw me for who i really was. i don’t know who i am anymore.—there’s this tension throughout the monologue between bitterness and hope, and i don’t know if oscar is even capable of seeing that he is still hopeful or that he does have, if not ruby’s kind of certainty, something of his own that rhymes. he’s feeling this bleak about everything and still trying to figure out where they are because he doesn’t believe they’re dead.

it was oscar’s idea to put the memorial where the portal had been. it’s taller than a person and shaped like a door. it’s a memorial but it’s also a symbol; the portal is gone, but they were inside it still, we should build our own door so they can find their way home. and then they do, according to the context given. the blacksmith gave them a doorway that went right through their memorial. ETA: never mind, misremembered

ruby confronting and facing his mortality after running away from it for three volumes to galvanize her to really try to save him vs oscar doing whatever he can think of to somehow save her while roiling in all these complicated painful feelings about how no one cares to know how he’s suffering because it isn’t like there’s any real hope for him. tasty!

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novankenn · 5 months

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So... in the same vein as Jaune the Dragon (s)Layer...

Jaune the Demon (s)Layer!!!

(Cue majestic and awe-inspiring orchestral music)

Ren was sitting behind his desk in his office at Section 66... the Bureau of Celestrial Affairs. His partner Nora was seated on his desk, swinging her legs back and forth.

Nora: I'm worried, Rennie...

Ren: It's about Jaune isn't it?

Nora: Yes.... he went to inspect that Hell-Mouth and hasn't come back... it's been like two months! Something must have happened to him! What if he fell in!

Ren: I agree, but there is nothing we can do... the Hell-Mouth closed up, so there is no way for us to do anything... we just have to hope...

Both Nora and Ren jumped to their feet as the door to Ren's office burst open, revealing the form of their intern, Oscar Pine.

Nora: Oscar!

Oscar: *out of breath*... back... he... back...

Ren: Oscar? What's...

Oscar: It's Jaune!

Nora: Jaune?

Ren: What about Jaune?

Oscar: He's BACK!

Nora/Ren: Where?

Oscar: The cafeteria!

Nora basically runs over Oscar in her haste to get to the cafeteria, with Ren lagging behind her by only seconds. Throwing open the double doors, she sees him. Her lost friend and probably the weakest and most unlucky Demon-Hunter the Bureau has.

Nora: Jau.... who the in the hell is that?

Jaune: Hi Nora, oh... um... yeah.... this is Pyrrha.

Nora: How could you bring a Demon into our sanctuary? How Jaune? How?

Jaune: Um... I walked her through the doors?

Ren: I don't think that was what Nora was getting at, Jaune.

Pyrrha: *flexing her great, bat-like wings, her spade tip tail lashing back and forth behind her* I don't like the tone you're taking with my Jauney-wany... You should... apologize.

Nora: Whut?

Pyrrha: Apologize to my husband!

Ren: ...

Nora: How? When? HOW?

Jaune: It's a funny story... um...

Ren: You fell into the Hell-Mouth didn't you?

Jaune: *reaches up and rubs the back of his neck* heh... um... not fell per se... um more like tripped?

Ren: That's the same thing.

Jaune: Well... I tripped and after a longtime to think while tumbled through darkness I landed on *blushes* something soft and cushy...

Nora: Soft and cushy? *Eyes Pyrrha's 'assets'* Right.

Ren: Jaune has she...

Pyrrha: I have not! This cuddley wuddely cutie landed on me, and was so apologetic about it... I just couldn't devour his soul... *blushes* besides no one has EVER touched me the way he did.... it was so invigorating!

Ren: ...

Nora: You face planted into her tits... didn't you?

Jaune: ...

Pyrrha: But that wasn't the most lewd thing he did to me! After ravaging my bountiful bosom... he ... he... *blushes and hides her face behind her clawed hands* ... he...

Nora: Don't say it! We have to remain PG-13!

Pyrrha: HELD MY HAND!

Nora: I said no.... whut? Seriously... what?

Pyrrha: Held my hand. He was so kind and gentle. He didn't judge me, he just accepted me... I felt so warm and safe... it was so EROTIC! I couldn't help myself.... it just... just made me need to keep him in my life!

Ren: ...

Nora: That's what counts as erotic in Hell? What the F!

Jaune: Anyway, after Pyrrha and I talked for a bit, she decided she would help me get back to the mortal realm, but taking me to the gates of the Underworld.... and boy what a trip that was! I thought it was NEVER going to end.

Ren: Jaune... how far did you 'trip'?

Jaune: I don't remember... Pyr what level did you control?

Pyrrha: The ninth.

Ren: ...

Nora: How in the blazes did you get from the Ninth level of Hell to the gates of the Underworld? There's only two of you!

Jaune: Made some friends on the way.

Ren: And these friends, do they happen to be demons as well?

Jaune: Well duh! They were all living in hell.

Ren: Were?

Jaune: *sheepish grin* Well, they all kind of came with me and Pyrrha.

Ren: Came with you?

Jaune: Yes?

Ren: DO I dare ask where they are now?

Jaune: Human Resources.

Ren: Oh, oka... why are they at Human Resources?

Jaune: Getting their ID cards, and filling in their tax forms.

Ren: IDs and Tax forms?

Jaune: Well, they are... um... my wives?

THUD / THUD

Jaune: *worriedly looking at the passed out forms of his friends,* I wonder if they've been working too hard?

Pyrrha: Enough of that now, sweetie. Eat up... you're going to need your strength... *a lecherous grin crossing Pyrrha's features* it is to be our... wedding night after all.

Oscar finally having recovered from being trampled, enters the cafeteria sees Nora and Ren out cold. He shakes his head and walks past, heading for the main doors to the lobby. He pulls one side open and freezes, before stepping back and closing the door softly.

Oscar: I quit.

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #nora valkyrie #lie ren #arkos #oscar pine #who are the other wives?

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dappledstars · 10 months

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I CAN’T HELP BUT LOVE YOU

✧ — prince!logan sargeant x bodyguard!oscar piastri ( fluff )

Keeping up with the eccentric prince of Williams has always been a challenge on its own. The young man ran away from his lessons, hid from his servants when they wanted to dress him up in a ridiculous way, and was always curious about things he could not find in the castle. Most of the palace staff abhorred the idea of chasing after him, for the prince knew where they would never look. Therefore, they left this arduous task to the one who rightfully was supposed to deal with him — the prince’s bodyguard. Although the majority of the staff suspected the bodyguard of being in on the prince’s antics, none of them complained, for he was able to bring back the prince much quicker than any of them could.

Oscar tightened the clasps on his commoner’s cloak before pulling the ragged hood over his head. He turned to the prince, his lips curled into an amused smile as he watched him struggle. After a few minutes of silent laughter, Oscar decided to end his relentless wrestle-match with the linen cloak. Amidst the prince’s irritated mumbles, he gently took the clothing from his hands.

At Logan’s stunned and somewhat offended face, he chuckled. “Turn over, your highness. I’ll help you.”

“I could have done it.” The prince whined, yet still followed Oscar’s request. The bodyguard laughed as he draped the material over Logan’s rich silk.

“If I had let you do it, we would’ve left tomorrow.” He teased lightly, as his fingers worked, deftly adjusting the cloak to fit the prince’s broad shoulders. Then, he pushed the cloak over his head, successfully messing up the maid’s meticulous styling on his blonde locks. Oscar was going to have to apologise to her later. “Done.”

Logan fidgeted with the strayed ends of the clothing, a sad excuse as compared to his usual voluminous ones. “It’s itchy.”

His words startled another laugh out of his bodyguard. “Yeah, well, deal with it. You said you wanted to experience the Solstice with me, so you better deal with it.” He then frowned at the realisation of how thin the material was. “You sure you don’t need an extra layer? It’s going to be freezing out there.”

Logan shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I’m not shivering now, see?”

“There’s a raging fireplace in front of you.” Oscar deadpanned as he doubled a fur cloak over his clothing. “You sure?”

“I’ll be fine, Osc. Don’t worry.”

It’s my job to worry, especially with my head on the line if you die of frostbite. But Logan was also the prince, and every single command and request of his had to be followed, no matter how stupid it was. Oscar sighed. “If you say so.”

Logan grinned, his hand resting on the spine of Assassins through the Ages. “Shall we go then?”

For most of their childhood, the two boys had spent their time uncovering the secrets of the castle, searching every nook and cranny for hidden entrances and concealed switches. Oscar didn’t know whether to regret this — Logan usually used them to escape from his lessons — or applaud it — they were very useful for sneaking food from the kitchen. Now, as he consulted the hand-drawn map the two had created, he applauded it. A hidden switch behind Assassins through the Ages made for a perfect beeline to the village.

Logan hummed thoughtfully as he ran his hands along the stone walls. “What’s so special about the Winter Solstice?”

“Well, the Winter Solstice happens in the kingdom every 22nd December. It marks the first day of winter, and symbolises the coming of light through the dark.” Oscar replied. This was the first time the two of them were to spend the Solstice together, for Oscar usually went back to his family to celebrate. Logan had been curious, so Oscar made a — probably unwise — decision to invite him over to his place for the celebrations even though the prince was grounded for being late to one of the royal events.

Logan nodded along, although Oscar wasn’t sure he was actually listening. They descended through the bowels of the palace, their path lit only by a single lantern that Oscar held on to tightly. Soon, the shadows thinned as the tunnel came to an end and light streamed through the wooden trapdoor above the two. According to the map, it was supposed to lead to one of the abandoned warehouses in the village.

Oscar cautiously pushed it open, bouts of dust falling into the hole. He coughed and fanned the air. He gestured for Logan to enter. “You go first, then pull me up.”

Logan nodded before gripping onto the wooden frame and pulling himself up, Oscar gently supporting his ascent, his hands firm on the prince’s waist. He coughed and rubbed his nose upon reaching the warehouse, shaking out his clothes as he straightened. Then, Logan extended his hand out to Oscar, who took it immediately, albeit a bit too eagerly. The prince’s grip was firm and his hand was warm. Oscar found that the sensation was making his face flush.

He let out a few coughs upon reaching the dusty location, rubbing his chest. Logan raised an eyebrow at him in concern. “You okay? You look a bit red.”

Oscar’s face reddened further. He coughed again to try and cover it up. “It’s… dusty.”

Logan nodded, but the bodyguard could see that he was not fully convinced. The prince rubbed his arms slightly before pulling his linen garb closer to his body. “It’s cold here.”

“It’ll be even colder outside.” Oscar warned with a slight sigh. He ran a hand through his hair before adjusting his hood. “Ready?”

The prince shivered. “Yeah.”

With a flourish, Oscar flung open the wooden door. Almost immediately he shivered, the autumn breeze wrapped around him albeit the various cautions he took. He rubbed his arms subconsciously, trying to generate more warmth.

Oscar thought it was working, that is until a warm pair of arms snaked around his waist, holding him tight and pulling him close to the shuddering prince. His face grew warm. He hoped Logan wouldn’t notice.

“What are you doing…?” He whispered, though the streets were too noisy for anyone to pay them any heed.

Logan nuzzled his face into Oscar’s knitted scarf. “Getting warm.”

And he was getting him warm too. The bodyguard’s blush darkened. “I told you to wear extra layers, you dolt.” He said his words in a scolding tone, though there was a hint of laughter behind them.

The prince chuckled and held him tighter. “You don’t mind… do you?”

Oscar rolled his eyes but he couldn’t stop a smile from forming. He sighed. “I don’t.”

Logan’s face brightened. It was cute. It didn’t help the blush fade. “So, where are we heading?”

“My place, remember?”

“Wait, so we’re not staying in the village to enjoy the festivities together?”

He seemed almost disappointed. Oscar gave him a deadpan stare. “No. I already told my family you’ll be coming over and Olivia’s convinced you’re a fairy prince.”

“What?” Logan sounded a mix of perplexed and flattered. He furrowed his brows, his nose tinted with red from the cold.

Oscar wanted to laugh. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint her, right?”

Logan didn’t. Although Olivia hadn’t been born the last time he had met with Oscar’s family, the framed pictures in his room were enough to make the prince find the girl absolutely precious with her missing tooth and chestnut pigtails.

The prince sighed. “So, where are we going? Where is your house anyways?”

“You’ll see.”

Every single time he had met the Piastris was in the castle, where Oscar had invited them to stay in. Logan was more than welcoming. He had never actually been to or seen his bodyguard’s childhood home. The pair of prince and bodyguard weaved their way through the crowded streets before stopping at a rusted iron gate marking the entrance to the woods.

Logan’s grip on Oscar tightened as he surveyed the sight. Although it was yet to pass the afternoon, the woods were already darkening. The prince had heard rumours of the ominous location, and wasn’t all that eager to enter. Oscar shook his head at Logan’s fearful expression, his dark bangs falling into his face as he grinned. The soft glow from its orange-blue flames of the lantern drew shadows on both of their features and lit a path through the dense trees.

“It’s not that scary.” Oscar comforted with a smile. Logan didn’t seem convinced, hugging the bodyguard tighter.

“Your house is in the woods?” The prince’s voice shook, his face slightly pale albeit the red spots of cold. “I heard that people who enter don’t come out…”

Oscar laughed. “That’s nonsense. I’ve entered tons of times, and I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Maybe that only works because you’re from the woods! I’m not, what’s gonna happen to me?” Logan’s grasp strengthened with every word he spoke, his heart racing. Oscar could hear its heartbeat pounding in his ears. He chuckled softly, before gently prying his hands off of his waist and squeezing them with a smile.

“You’ll be fine. You’re with me, remember?”

Oscar could’ve sworn he saw the prince blush. But judging from the weather, it was probably just the cold. A smile curled on Logan’s lips as he nodded, letting his hand drop to the side as he held on to Oscar’s with a firm grip. “Right.”

With a smile, the two of them descended into the bowels of the forest, the fading autumn light guiding their way.

The woods were silent, the lantern Oscar held up the only thing illuminated their path. Shadows quivered around them as leaves scrunched under their boots, venturing deeper into the forest. Logan was itching to unsheathe his sword, Oscar’s confident stride the only thing preventing him from doing so. That and the frigid temperature that was inevitably paralysing him. But Oscar’s hand was warm and his grip firm — firm enough to stop Logan’s imagination of what lies in the woods.

The first snow had fallen ages ago, and its descent wasn’t getting any slower. Logan had one of Oscar’s many fur jackets draped over his body, otherwise he would’ve frozen to death. Logan didn’t even bother arguing when Oscar offered it to him — partly because of his chattering teeth and partly because it felt good to wear something of Oscar’s. It smelled good too — burnt hickory wood with hints of cinnamon and honey.

The falling snow and wind didn’t cease, instead getting stronger with each minute. Logan squinted at the white forest. His hand squeezed Oscar’s before asking, “Are we there yet?”

The wind howled around him and a snowflake entered his eye, but Oscar’s voice still cleaved through the pandemonium. “No… we need to find shelter.”

For the first time throughout this whole journey, Logan heard Oscar waver. Of course he would falter. These were the woods of Williams, prone to rumours and disappearing travellers. The deluge of wind and snow were telltale signs of what could be a blizzard. Logan was terrified and shivery, but he knew he had to be strong.

For Oscar.

He held the bodyguard’s gloved hands tightly — not scared, just steady. The prince craned his neck, blue eyes scanning for a sign of a shelter through the raging winter. Spotting a cave, he tugged Oscar along with a small smile though he could barely make out his companion’s features through the snow.

Any other time, the cave in the woods would have frightened the young prince, fantastical stories of mystery clouding his imagination. Now Logan would rather brave the dark and damp than freeze to death in the blizzard. Oscar struck another match against the rock before lighting up the kindling he had pocketed from the prince’s fireplace. Always so prepared, he was. The bodyguard placed the fading lantern beside them as they huddled close to the flame, elbows touching.

Logan rubbed his numb hands together, trying his best to suppress a sneeze. He glanced at Oscar, who was strangely silent. The flames were reflected in his hazel eyes, his expression unreadable. The silence was tense. Logan didn’t like it.

He nudged Oscar gently. “You okay?”

The young man jumped, before rubbing his nose with was tinted red. “I— yeah, I’m fine.”

The prince knew Oscar long enough to detect a lie. He frowned. “What’s wrong? That’s an order.”

The bodyguard hesitated. “I, um… I’m just worried.”

Logan stayed silent, waiting for him to elaborate. Which he did after a few breaths. “I’m worried about a lot of things, to be honest — my family being caught up in the blizzard, the two of us not making it to my place, my family worrying about us not making it to my place… a lot of things.”

Then there were the unspoken words: I’m worried that we might not make it back.

Logan didn’t blame him for worrying. He opened his mouth to speak, to comfort him, to tell him that everything was going to be alright. But Oscar spoke once more. His eyes met Logan’s, and the prince could see a mix of emotions in them — worry, desperation and a hint of fear. And something else. It made Logan’s heart race.

“Logan,” Not ‘your highness’ or ‘milord’, but his very own name. Oscar’s eyes were pleading. “Do you know what happens to me if you don’t make it back?”

What about you? Logan wanted to ask. Instead, he just shook his head.

“They’ll have my head on a stake.” Oscar let out a bitter laugh though nothing was funny.

“What-!?” The prince didn’t even know exactly why he was surprised. He was the sole heir to the Williams Kingdom, and was frankly endangering his life just by being out of the castle. Adding on, he was technically grounded so he was not supposed to be out of the castle anyways. Logan wanted to yell at Oscar, ask him why the hell did he allow his life to be on the line because of his charge’s stupid decisions.

But he didn’t.

Because he didn’t regret it.

If he hadn’t done all the stupid things he’d done, he wouldn’t be in a dark cave seeking refuge from a blizzard, huddling over a flame in a commoner’s cloak. He wouldn’t have been able to don Oscar’s fur jacket and be this close to him any other way.

Logan must have been quiet for too long, because Oscar frowned and nudged him slightly. “You okay?”

A grin curved on Logan’s lips. Before he even registered what he was doing, the prince found himself leaning in towards him. “Want your head on a stake?”

Oscar’s face was red, moving back on instinct, as he shook his head.

Logan’s grin grew. He shifted closer to his bodyguard, their noses almost touching. “Then I’m gonna have to get warmer.”

Logan was never a pushy person, and Oscar liked that about him. He would never force his decisions onto anyone and valued Oscar’s advice, though his hyper-curiosity did get annoying at times. Oscar wasn’t the type of person to rush things. He preferred to take everything slow and into consideration, calculating every single move with caution.

But now, with Logan’s lips a few centimetres away from his own, he couldn’t help but wish he would move faster. The tempestuous weather outside the cave’s solace seemed to be dull and muffled and the fire’s crackling softened to a quiet sizzle. Oscar felt Logan’s breath on his face, misting with the cold, the scent of something minty and fresh.

Logan seemed to blush, as a small smile appeared on his lips. He looked almost shy, the playful exterior giving way to a bashful side of the prince. His voice was barely above a whisper. “Can I… kiss you?”

Adrenaline rushed through his senses, driving all sound out from that moment. For a single second, Oscar replayed those words in his head. Can I kiss you? He knew the answer. It had been in him for all those years, all those times the two had spent together. But now, when his dream was finally realised, the words seem to clog in his throat. But for once, Oscar couldn’t care less. He wasn’t that talkative, after all.

In a heartbeat, Oscar pressed his lips to Logan’s own.

And almost immediately, Logan reciprocated.

Fireworks erupted in Oscar’s belly, butterflies taking flight as his heartbeat raced. It started out tender, like the first snowflake that had landed on Logan’s nose. The prince caressed Oscar’s cheeks gently, spreading a soft blush across the bodyguard’s features. Epinephrine pulsed through Oscar’s veins and pushed him forward. He pressed himself closer to Logan, who seemed to have the same idea. It got deeper. Oscar savoured the taste of Logan’s lips — it felt so soft.

So right.

Only when they both jerked away, gasping for air did Oscar truly realise how much he craved it. How much he needed Logan.

The fire went out with a gust of winter wind, sending chills into the refuge of the cave. Almost immediately, Logan wrapped his arms around Oscar in an embrace, his teeth chattering. Oscar chuckled, flushing crimson. Logan gave him a childish pout before he laughed too. It was genuinely adorable to Oscar, sharing this moment with him. The realisation still hadn’t sunk in yet. This was Crown Prince Logan Sargeant of the Williams Kingdom, sole heir to the throne.

He had kissed the Crown Prince Logan Sargeant of the Williams Kingdom in a cave in the middle of the woods directly defying orders from the King and Queen.

And Logan had kissed him back.

This was Crown Prince Logan Sargeant of the Williams Kingdom, sole heir to the throne. His best friend, freezing-cold and draped in a linen commoner’s cloak.

And he was his.

Logan learnt a valuable lesson that day. And no, it wasn’t not to be late for major events that would inevitably leave you grounded. The prince wrung the edges of his wet cloak, drenched from all the melted snow. Beside him, Oscar stood with a smug grin, showered with Olivia’s bright-eyed awe. He nudged Logan teasingly. “Up for a rematch?”

The prince glared at him. “No.” He replied flatly.

Oscar laughed. “Afraid of losing again, your highness?” His voice was lilted with playful mirth. Logan chuckled dryly. In competitions like this, the bodyguard’s competitive side truly came out in full force. Note to self: Never challenge Oscar Piastri to a snowball fight. In all his shivering glory, the prince wished he’d known that sooner.

He rolled his eyes at Oscar’s words, before an idea entered his mind. His mouth curved into a cheeky smile. “Well, as the winner of our match… what would you like as a prize?”

Oscar turned red. “I…uh…”

Logan didn’t mind losing if it meant that he could see his friend looking this much flustered. The prince stood up, a good few centimeters taller than him. He leaned in closer to Oscar, a smirk riding on his lips. “Want me to choose one for you?”

�� A small nod was all the confirmation that Logan needed. The prince captured Oscar’s lips with his own, kissing him gently. His lips tingled with pleasure as warmth bloomed in his chest. He could get used to this. Logan pressed harder against him, deepening the motion ever so slightly.

An excited intake of breath and a following squeal made them both pull away.

Olivia stood, stunned and eager, before the two of them, her toothy grin ever so evident. She clutched her handsewn doll tightly. Logan was pretty sure his face was on fire. The little girl giggled, her chestnut pigtails bouncing slightly as she looked at them.

“Oscy!” Her small voice had a teasing hint. “You kissed the fairy prince!”

Logan exchanged a glance with Oscar before he laughed. “I’m actually a merman prince.” He grinned proudly. “Wanna see my—“

Oscar facepalmed beside him. “Don’t you dare.”

The prince gave him a cheeky smile, coupled with a chuckle. He bent down to whisper in Olivia’s ear. “I’ll show you my tail some other time, ‘kay?”

The girl’s eyes widened like saucers, sparkling like diamonds. “Okay!” was all she said before running back inside the Piastris’ house, probably to gush about meeting an actual prince.

“How exactly are you going to show her your tail?”

“I’ll figure something out. I always do.” Logan straightened, before turning back to Oscar with his signature grin. “Now, where were we?

notes: olivia is a purely fictional character !!

written by @princeofpyrenee + edited and finished by @dappledstars ; 2023

word count: 3425

#✧ — writing #✧ — collab #logan sargeant #oscar piastri #op81 #ls2 #loscar #osclo #0281 #281 #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #formula one #fluff

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chaikachi · 1 year

Note

Speaking about tension and conflict to build romance:

Bumbleby's conflict was Adam stalking Blake,and Yang upset by her leaving because Blake was scared,but gradually more relieved as she proved that she would always stayed by her side and fight together

Renora's conflict was Ren being stubborn and almost risking his life to a grimm that killed both his parents and Nora stopping him,leading them to a better strategy attack

We already saw Oscar suggesting Ruby to tell Ironwood the truth,maybe Oscar will struggle to 'share her burden' because she's like her sister and doesn't like being vulnerable? Or maybe it will be about the merge and we'll have a parallel to Blake in V1 talking about "the man with two souls fighting for control" ?

Of the main three ships, they all had a big tension and conflict leading up to V8, and then had a secondary one just by virtue of the separation in Atlas.

Yes BB's conflict was Adam plus Blake running away while Renora's was Ren's tunnel vision in v4... but then in V8 Yang is worried that Blake thinks less of her for prioritizing Mantle over Amity. And Ren and Nora are having a conflict of ideals AND miscommunication.

For Rosegarden, their conflict started with not agreeing on how to handle Ironwood and then became stretched out by ending up on opposite teams while Atlas was falling. The difference between RG and the other ships is that eVERYONE ELSE GOT TO STAY REUNITED AT THE END OF V8, BUT RG DIDN'T. 😭😭😭

I have a feeling the rest of their conflict in the Vacuo arc is going to have multiple layers and be very personal to their individual characters. For starters, there's a matter of how to sort out leadership. Ruby used to be head of the team and became the symbol of hope for All of Remnant after her broadcast... but in her absence, Oscar will have stepped up to the plate in her place. There's going to be some fumbling to get them back on the same page again to a point where they are properly sharing the weight of their burdens together.

Then we know that Oscar probably thinks she died! :'D Which, in tandem with his attachment, admiration, and protectiveness of her in the past, sets him up perfectly to not want to lose her again. Be that struggling with sticking too close, keeping his distance from not wanting to get too attached again (too bad boy, you can't run from this), or a mix of both... it's anyone's guess how he'll handle it.

We also know, thanks to Neo, just how important Oscar is to Ruby and that the thought of losing him is something she literally could not handle. So there is almost certainly going to be a mutual protectiveness going on there. they can have a LITTLE codependency, as a treat. /lh

We also have VERY SOLID SETUPS for their individual character arcs mirroring each other so strongly. And it's impossible for those themes to not be explored at this point.

From their very introductions, they both address each other's core conflicts with their first words to each other.

Oscar: Woah, you... have silver eyes.

Silver eyes being symbolic of her burden as Salem's adversary and the mirror that reflects humanity's hope back onto darkness.

Ruby: Who... are you?

Oscar being the next (and likely final) Ozcarnation who's entire character arc is a struggle of identity.

Oscar's "I always knew I wanted to be more than a farmhand... but this? Who would ask for this?" to Ruby's "I wanted to be the hero, like the stories that my mom read to me."

Oscar's "I thought the idea of falling through Remnant into a new world was... exciting. I never understood why she was so sad when she finally made it back home." to Ruby's "I don't want to be me anymore."

Ruby's "What if you could be anyone?" to Oscar's "I'm just going to be another one of his lives, aren't I?"

god the way they've written this story... i sincerely don't understand how people can watch ALL of this, all the moments i didn't mention cause i'm too lazy to turn this thread into another essay, and still say they don't see it. 😭

however their conflict is handled, i know i'm going to be very not normal about it every step of the way and i'm so freaking excited

#asks #ask #anon #anono #rwby #rosegarden

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wanderingblindly · 22 days

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Oh are we doing Director Cuts again? I'd love you to tlk more about Something In Seattle please!! Anything you want, but I'd like to know what inspired you for the forest scene?

Tbh it can always be director's cut time, i fucking love talking lol, so thank you for asking!!!!!!!!!!!! On to some more info dumping about Someone in Seattle's forest scene :)

Inspiration for Lando's Styling:

This is a bit layered. It started, I think, back in January with my regular rewatch of 2005's Pride and Prejudice. Of course, that naturally lead to the question: how would I make that into a landoscar fic?

After talking about it on tumblr, @redcowboy1 made the horrifically influential comment: "AND u can imagine lando in the iconic 2005 white outfit with pearls... in his curly hair!". It ruined me. It's still ruining me. It will always ruin me. I don't even know if I've told him how much that comment ruined me.

I thought of direct Pride and Prejudice fics, I thought of Pride and Prejudice inspired fics, but nothing really stuck? So when I realized this was the moment where I could do it all (ethereal white outfit, pearls in the hair,,, fae-like blush,,,,) I went IN.

Shockingly, that isn't the only super loose 2005 P&P reference in that scene. There's also this:

Giving in to childish instinct, Lando jumps up onto the stump; Oscar’s arm follows him like a guide, a gentleman helping his lady into her carriage. Lando’s fingers flex against his. Realizing his mistake, having breached professionalism, he drops it.

Hand Scene, anyone? No?

The Setting:

This was actually really heavily inspired by my own childhood. I grew up with my home backing onto a massive forest that you could explore via a broken fence post :) Just like in this fic :)

Almost all the key elements are lifted from my own experience in the forest, like the creek with the massive tree fallen across it. That was real!!!!!! it's actually the center of a lot of my happiest childhood memories.

In the winter, my sister and I used to go exploring in the woods -- the feeling of a river so cold that it makes the air around it painful is so visceral to me. We used to walk across the tree that Lando posed on to the get to the other side, though I fell off more than once lol.

Something that I tried to capture is the extraordinary alien-ness that comes with the Pacific Northwest's forests. They're incredibly dense, with a mix of obscuring low-crawling plants like ferns and massive evergreens like nothing you've ever seen before. It truly makes it feel like the air is green, like you can't see the sky -- and even if you could, maybe it wouldn't be the same sky you saw elsewhere.

I guess, in a way, maybe I kind of wrote it from the perspective of a small child. I kind of gave the impression that Lando and Oscar are dwarfed by the nature around them -- like I scaled the entire thing up, because that's how I remember it.

Anyways, enough rambling. I found a few pictures that inspired me while I was writing: the tree stump pose, general foliage 1, general foliage 2

Other Fun Facts:

Atypically of me, I wrote this fic out of chronological order. I started it when I was sick (yes, at the same time that i started the wildly different Choking on Greatness), and my fevered brain just produced a bunch of random little scenes. One of those scenes was a solid chunk of their time in the forest.

Honestly, that's probably why this scene feels like the "main event" -- in terms of how I wrote this fic, I really wrote most of it around this moment.

Another fun fact is that I tried to imply that Lando was waiting for a doorknob confession when they got to their cars; he wanted Oscar to come kiss him.

Lando’s hand is on his car’s door handle, but he’s looking at Oscar like there’s something left to say – to do. His lips part slightly, not enough to talk but maybe enough to tempt, if things were different, if he wasn’t here because he’s doing Oscar a favor. Lando’s eyes flutter closed, only opening when Oscar speaks.

don't think I actually nailed it, but hey. Can't win 'em all.

#THANK YOU OP FOR ASKIN!!!!#god if i could fucking draw #you know i'd have lando in pearls and a slutty shirt NOW #you just KNOW #ask me :)#Someone In Seattle #Landoscar #directors commentary

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eddiesgorlie · 1 year

Text

ManEater, Pt.1

Austin!Elvis x Reader

Summary: Y/n, a movie star that was recognized for her roles as a young girl decides to switch it up and ends up drawing someone’s attention. (I think this would be a good series, what do you think?)

Warnings: Sexism in Hollywood, swearing and name calling.

Word count: 1,055

I intently looked into the mirror as the hair and makeup girls fixed me up for the Oscars. I had finally been nominated for my first award and I couldn’t be happier, after years of working extremely hard I am finally being respected in the industry-or so I thought. My short wavy hair sat right above my shoulders and my glam makeup made my eyes sparkle. My manager specifically requested I wear no lipstick to keep my “Innocent” role since I had just played young teenagers in my past roles. Once my hair and makeup was done, I put on my pink dress, with a petticoat underneath. I looked like a fucking cupcake. “Thank you girls, I have something I need to take care of.” I said as I left the room. I walked down to my managers office and threw the door open. “What the hell is this dress?” I yelled, my face red with anger. “Perfect, you look cute little one.” He said, looking up over his paper. “Cute? Little one? I’m not a child! I want out of this.” I screamed. He stood up and snapped his fingers at me. “Well maybe you should have thought it through before signing the contract. Now go be a good girl.” He yelled. “Fuck you, asshole!” I flipped him off and yelled as I walked out of the room.

“Girls, get the other dress please.” I had an idea my manager would pull something like this, so I always packed an appropriate dress with me. The dress was a black cocktail length sleeveless dress with a straight neckline and faux fur lining the hem. The girls helped me into the dress and handed me black heels. “Much better.” Margot sighed. “I can agree.” I said with a laugh. They were packing up the makeup when something caught my eye. “Margot, pass me the red lipstick please.” I said. “You sure about that?” She asked, knowing the rules. I nodded and she handed it over, I put an even, thick layer on and puckered my lips. “Lets go.” I said with a smile.

I got out of the limo at the venue and made my way down the red carpet, cameras flashing around me and reporters yelled questions. I walked towards the barricades to answer some questions. “Where’s the old Y/n?” The reporter asked. “Oh her? She’s gone on vacation.” I walked off. Once I finally made it inside, I walked down the stairs and answered some more questions. Thats when something, or should I say someone came to my attention, that someone was none other than the most famous man in the world, Elvis Presley. He was sharply dressed in a black tux and looked as handsome as ever, the part that caught my eye, were his eyes, staring right at me. “Thank you.” I told the reporter and slowly made my way father down the stairs. Elvis was being absolutely bombarded by reporters. “Good evening, Mr. Presley.” I said as I shook his hand. “G-good evening, ma’am. I didn’t seem to catch your name?” He said. “Y/n l/n.” I said. “Very nice to meet you, Mrs. l/n.” He said as he kissed my hand. “Ms.” I said. “I apologize, its very nice to meet you, Ms. l/n.” “I couldn’t agree more, Mr. Presley.” I said. I kissed the corner of his lips, and walked away, not looking back. All I could hear at this point were reporters screaming questions if Mr. Presley and myself were hollywoods new big couple. I ignored their questions and walked into the ballroom. Elvis was so kind to answer their never ending questions.

“I will now be announcing the award winner for Best Actress.” I watched as Bing Crosby struggled with the envelope, my nerves were shot and my palms were sweaty. “Thank you for your patience, ladies and gentleman. Our 1956 Best Actress award goes to….. Y/n L/n!” Bing announced into the microphone. I looked around as I noticed others looking at me. I won? How is that possible? There is absolutely no way I won. “Is a Ms. L/n in the audience?” Bing asked. I really did win. I quickly got out of my seat and walked up to the stage. “Thank you, Bing.” I said as I took the award. “Congratulations ma’am, if you’d like to say something, you are welcome to.” He said, motioning to the microphone. I politely nodded and took my place at the podium. I cleared my throat and began talking. “Thank you so much, I am so honored to receive this award.” I said. “We want the old Y/n!” A man angrily yelled. I looked for where the voice came from but continued my speech. “An award of this nature should be given to women that I’ve looked up to for years and it’s amazing that now young girls and women will be looking up to me, hopefully.” I said with a small laugh. “We don’t want our daughters looking up to whores!” A different voice yelled. I stepped back from the podium and made it back to my seat, putting my all into not crying. A whore? Is that what I am?

I watched as all of the amazing talented actors and actresses claimed their awards, hoping it would end soon so I could cry in the comfort of my bed. Minutes felt like hours, but finally the end came and I got out of their faster than anyone else. “Hey, hey wait!” A deep voice yelled. I kept walking. “Wait!” He yelled again. “What? Are you just going to call me a whore?” I spat back. “No, actually I wanted to congratulate you and ask you a question.” He said. “Thank you, what is your question, Mr. Presley?” I asked. “I- I was wondering if I could get your telephone number?” He asked nervously. Elvis Presley was nervous to ask me for my phone number. “Why would you want that?” I asked. “You’re beautiful and I’d love to get to know you.” He said. I nodded and tried to find a pen and paper in my bag but of course, he held them out to me. I quickly wrote my number down. “Have a great night, Mr. Presley.” I waved to him as I walked out of the building.

#austin butler #austin butler elvis #austin!elvis smut #austin butler fic #austin butler x reader #sebastian kydd #sebastian kydd x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis biopic #elvis imagine #austin elvis smut #austin elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis smut

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offdacabsav2 · 1 year

Text

Neon Dread

An hour since he disappeared into the night. They tore Vacuo asunder, searching in a panicked frenzy. Each corner, each crevice, Weiss replayed the rage in his eyes.

The hurt, the loneliness, and the brink reaching to pull him in.

In the Ever After he wasn’t shielding his insanity in rusted armor. Is he now?

When they heard the sounds of a fight breaking out, they thought for sure it was another drunken brawl started for some petty reason.

Instead, it had been Jaune brutally dismantling the members of CRDL. Watching him fatally crush Cardin’s skull frightened her.

The confident leader who would never harm another human like that.

Compared to… compared to now.

She felt disgusting for this. It’s true, none of them can sympathize with 15 years of pure isolation, slowly losing your grip on reality every day while trying to cope with mercy killing a close friend.

She should’ve helped more, tried to warm him up to the idea of a group again.

The logical side told her he refused every time. That he was always alone now and wanted to be.

Her emotions crushed retaliation.

He didn’t want to be alone. But he didn’t know how not to be.

Eventually the chase became widespread. News of a missing huntsman who attacked another team spread rampant.

They needed to find him. There’s a very real chance he could be imprisoned for this.

Sprinting past glistening, neon billboards, advertisements, road signs, dancing holograms, Weiss rounded a corner, dipping into a dark alley.

Ruby showed up a moment later and inspected the area with her scroll’s flashlight.

Rain, trash, brick walls, smoke. The knight nowhere in sight.

Weiss: “Dammit!” She roared, picking up a stone and hurling it into the shadows.

Ruby: “Weiss, we’ve searched the entire south side. He’s not here.”

Weiss: “And? What, are you going to give up just because it’s a little harder than you expected?”

The Ice Queen retracted, hanging her head and squeezing Myrtenaster’s hilt.

Weiss: “I’m sorry. I… I’m scared.”

Ruby: “It’s okay. I am too. But he ran this way and there’s not a single trace of… anything.”

Weiss sighed, gazing at the heavens. Rain steadily fell onto her face, soaking her hair and dismantling the braid.

Weiss: “What about the others?”

Ruby: “Guys, how are we doing?” She paced as she gazed at her scroll.

Nora: “Nothing, nothing, nothing. He just vanished! Up and left!”

Ren: “No luck so far. If he turned around the authorities would have him by now. Either he broke into a building or he left the city.”

Ren, ever the voice of reason, had clear panic in his tone. Although Nora’s was obvious, he still tried to calm her.

Blake: “Yang and I just cleared the rest of the residential plaza. I don’t see where he could’ve gone.”

Oscar: “Emerald and I are following a subway tunnel right now. I doubt he came down here, but it’s worth a shot.”

Ruby: “Ok… ok, uh… k-keep looking. He’s around here,” she turned away, muttering. “Somewhere.”

Weiss walked further into the abyssal maw. It wrapped her in shadows the closer she got.

Weiss: “I think this leads to a different back passage.”

The silver-eyed leader joined her friend in peeking back the layers of thick gloom.

Black windows deepened the pit of anxiety in Weiss’ stomach. She imagined blank faces watching as they went.

Turning a corner, Weiss glimpsed a touch of red when Ruby’s light swept the narrow lane.

Weiss: “I-I see something,” She pointed. “Right there.”

The beam revealed unsettling information.

Weiss sprinted to the soaked fabric floating in a puddle. A memory torn, harboring different, darker stains.

Ruby and Weiss stared at it in utter fear.

Ruby: “G-guys, we… we found Pyrrha’s sash.”

Nora: “Where?!”

Ruby: “East Whittaker Street, in a side alley. I think… I think there’s blood on it.”

Oscar: “Do you think it’s his or Cardin’s?”

Ruby: “I don’t know, I don’t know. You’re coming up behind us, see if you can cut off the area near the subway exit. Everyone else, get over here as fast as you can.”

Weiss drew her blade and loaded a slot of ice dust into the chamber.

Methodically, the huntresses cleared their corners, watched the rooftops, and guarded their rear.

Further evidence.

A severed metal leg and a long ponytail.

Ruby raised her light up to see Crocea Mors stabbed into a wall, water washing over the blade. The duo dashed to the sword, inspecting its new cuts and dents.

Weiss nearly stepped in a pool, but withdrew her heel, noticing an odd tinge to the clear surface.

Blood.

Eyes and light uncovered a trail leading into a pitch-black, midnight doorway.

Carefully, they closed. In sync, ready to fight.

Methodical and smooth. Terrified and nervous.

Images flooded Weiss’ brain. Gruesome scenes unfolding, playing into her worst nightmares.

The scroll’s gaze hovered over a gloved hand. White and gold gauntlets. Deathly still.

Weiss doesn’t remember a time she ran so fast. She most likely never will.

He was propped against a wooden door. Head down, hair stuck to his forehead. His face veiled by darkness.

Blood ran down his armor. She tilted his chin upwards. His eyes were shut, mouth slightly open, a pained look on his crimson-stained face. Trailing down his neck was a deep gash. A purple splotch glinted.

Ruby: “We found him, but Tyrian and Mercury were here first! He got stung!” She rambled frantically, reviewing him for further injury.

Emerald: “We’ve got the ambulance coming right now.”

Everything else blurred. Weiss only focused on his sluggish breathing that slowed with every passing second. The cut across his cheek. The slashes below his armor exposing red flesh. A bullet hole in his thigh and the spreading venom.

At some point, Ruby and Weiss wrapped his arms around their shoulders and hoisted him to his feet.

He was incredibly heavy and his concussed state helped little.

The clock ticked away.

He grew weaker and weaker.

Weiss prayed for a miracle. For anything. She wasn’t going to lose him, too. Not after everything they’ve been through together.

She refused for death to take him. He needed to hear how much he meant to them and how bad it hurt to see him in pain.

He needed to hear how she truly felt.

The future where she isn’t able to confess… all of it…

She had to be strong. For him.

#jaune x weiss #white knight #jaune arc #jaune arc x weiss schnee #weiss schnee #rwby whiteknight #weiss schnee x jaune arc #wanted to write a sequel cause that would go hard

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pearlsofthec · 6 days

Text

To be inspired:

April is like a breath of fresh air after months where it seemed like the gloominess of the days was the norm. My energies were high to the ceiling by the start of the month, and starting off something in such a positive state of mind is always a game changer. Arriving back at Milan from Rome on the 31st felt like a step into the first page of my life. As I checked into a hotel for a night as an improvised way of celebrating easter without my family, I felt renewed - in the spirit of the easter-time, I’d reborn in a way. I guess spring does that to all of us, it inspires a joie de vivre that fades without the blooming of flowers and chirping of birds.

The inspiration of the month, overall, is that one scene from the first tinkerbell movie (BEAR WITH ME PLEASE), just in the beggining, where it shows her being born from the seed of a dandelion. Being re born from nature, embracing our own astral glow, and letting ourselves reflect the balance of our everyday lives. Basic clothing that looks elevated just because you’re wearing it, salutes to the sun, flower pressing and stacks of delicate jewelry are all within the spirit of spring. This season is all about capturing the bliss of mundane experiences and allowing it to multiply inside the ecochamber of positivity that is YOU!

Wear butter yellow and baby pink.

My current it girls:

Amanda seyfried

Phoebe Tonkin

Isabel Lucas

Curating your vibe is way more fun in spring, when your outfits don’t have to be overpowered by layers upon layers upon layers of clothing. Many people say that it’s in the colder seasons when they get to express their style the best, hut I’m the complete opposite: i feel the most like myself when I’m feeling light, wearing airy clothing.

Amanda Seyfried and Phoebe Tonkin are the epitomes of what I want my wardrobe to look like. Amanda style is simple but still personal, and to me, personally, she embraces the girl next door energy perfectly, principally in Dear John. The light pink and jeans combo is underrated and capable of making any girl feel like a goddess I believe. Letters to juliet is another movie of hers that encapsulates the ideal spring summer style. Girly but classic, flirty but simple.

Phoebe Tonkin is the same but different. I think of her as the ultimate Realisation par muse, and I feel like it’s because of the effortlessness of her style. She knows the power of the jeans + cute top combo. I love how naturally she wears her outfots, which might seem like a stupid take, but it’s actually just a way to say it’s clear to me how she takes her time when shopping, choosing pieces that truly reflect her personality.

One of my biggest struggles with having a more down to earth style is the fear of looking more like a hobo than a boho princess ahah, and no one walks that thin line better than Phoebe Tonkin, who also adds hints of romantic style in the mix, which i just love. Another master of that art is the one and only Isabel Lucas, who is one of my ultimate style inspirations both for her amazing collection of dresses and the ability to wear them without making it look… forced or cliché. And her graphic shirt collection is just to die for! If you’re like me and like to look like a woodland fairy adapting to modern life both in spring and on the daily basis generally, you should be taking style notes from Isabel. She is an environmentalist and super into holistic living, which, naturally, is a plus.

Movies and media:

Just like heaven

Princess Diaries 2

Confissoes de Adolescente

Brief wondrous life of Oscar Wao

White Oleander

With the lovely weather outside, I sometimes find it difficult to sit down and watch a movie, because everything around tells me to go outside and live life like one instead. When, however, the evening sets and I have no plans to give me an excuse to wear a silk dress and boots around town, I look forward to making my day even longer, but watching movies that feel inherently bright and sunny. Amazing soundtracks, gentle visuals and upbeat stories: you can’t miss it with these romcoms. I don’t know why, but I haven’t been particularly atuned to my cult-ish side recently and haven’t been watching Films, but with me, that desire comes and goes in waves. I have, however, been reading a bit, and a book that I could simply not not recommend are White Oleander and the Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. Both completely different, but mystical in ways that I cannot describe, and you’ll have to read them to find out.

As for music, there’s only one album you need: soleil by francoise hardy

To wear

Outfit combos and general essentials I’m currently obsessed with are:

Slinky tops with relaxed pants, extra points if you manage to get a pastel colored top, (a pale yellow would be a DREAM) with a light wash pair of jeans.

Floral tunic dresses, think loveshackfancy… basic I knooww, but that’s kind of what we’re going for here. Jade Butterfield from the 2014 adaptation of Endless Love should be your muse these days, so embrace it!

Your favorite assouline notebook you carry around. I mean… my favourite assouline notebook I carry around ahahah. Not only are they visually adorable, as they also are the perfect notebooks, having a heavy-ish paperweight and perfectly spaced lines, i know I sound dramatic but I’m extra picky with my notebooks, what can i do.

Statement pants, jeans specifically. I just NEED an embroidered pair of jeans so bad, i feel like they’d be perfect with a basic white tank.

Just wearing tight shirts and tanks in general. The charm of the whole outfit being the lack of a need to wear a jacket!

Colorful Sets, i just love buying sets so much. They are sooo low effort but high reward! And I love the fact that they are the source of limitless combinations. Just LOVE THEM so much.

#blog #monthly guidelines #april #spring

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soft-persephone · 1 month

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In Secret Rewatch

Just a horrendously horny movie. It wasn’t written for the plot. It wasn’t created for the plot. And YOU are not watching it for the plot! But we aren’t complaining about that so let’s move on.

As hot as this movie is, it doesn’t always register in my brain because I am too delighted by how messy it is and the underline layer of how evil these characters are.

Spoilers ahead if you haven’t watched this movie.

They killed this lady’s son and played in her face about it. They are so guilt ridden that it’s literally driving them both crazy to a point where they don’t enjoy being together anymore.

But now Theresa is begging in the mother’s face for forgiveness??

Just absolutely messy. My jaw just drops in utter delight at every turn. I can’t even appreciate how sexy Oscar Isaac was for this character. It’s too wonderfully messy. Laurent is an evil evil man.

I didn’t clock it the first time I saw it, but he was really going to try to throw the woman down the stairs.

Your pitching by a fit after things get complicated over someone YOU killed!

Just a delightedly horny movie.

#in secret #Elizabeth Olsen #Oscar Isaac #laurent leclaire #Theresa Raquin #Tom Felton #softie watches things

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tayvengeance · 1 year

Text

I just... need to talk about Li Ming from the perspective of someone with a friendship like his and Heart's.

Li Ming and Heart attending the deaf mass absolutely stole my heart. The way Li Ming is so ready to anything to make Heart feel normal... no. Feel HEARD. He sees the notes his mom leaves behind, he knows they keep him locked in the house, hell, he even SAW how Heart's own mom didn't even learn how to sign for him.

Li Ming, who knew Heart for like two days, picked up sign language to communicate better with him.

These little things he does, like just making sure Heart can see his face when he talks to read his lips, just resonate so deep with me, because that's what it's like when I'm with my best friend. Him bringing Heart over to the speaker to feel the music? I feel its synonymous to every discussion I've had with her about how music is made and how each layer has its place in a song.

(She did yell "WHY ARE THEY PLAYING MUSIC FOR DEAF PEOPLE! WE CAN'T HEAR SHIT!" when they started playing music at the mass, which had me laughing, but she accepted it for the speaker scene.)

((also important to note she has 1 cochlear implant so she can hear a bit out of one ear, but it's not like how hearing people hear. If you are ever curious about that, watch The Sound of Metal. She said it depicted her hearing almost perfectly when we watched it.))

I can tell Li Ming and Heart were handled with care and love, and they've had both of our hearts since ep 1. The scene where they are watching the movie together and Li Ming is telling Heart what is happening was my friend and I watching Parasite in the theatre (just the two of us because it was like the third day it was out, a foreign language film and didn't have oscar hype yet) because it was the only movie with subtitles out while she was recovering from surgery for a new implant and completely deaf for two months. There's just things Li Ming does and I just know exactly why he's doing it.

But yeah, just some thoughts about how they are portrayed pretty accurately, and that they make us happy.

#moonlight chicken #heart x liming #heartliming #geminifourth #gemini norawit #fourth nattawat #earthmix brought us to the chicken show but geminifourth have absolutely stolen our hearts

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bestworstcase · 4 months

Note

Heya, so your meta on RWBY alluding to "The Marvelous Land of Oz" has been rotating in my head like a baked potato for the past few days and I'm all about it. One question that I've come away with though is where exactly does Theodore fit into all this? Everyone assumes he's Dorothy but obviously that wouldn't quite work given the parameters. I was wondering if you could maybe share your thoughts on Theodore and his role in the story to come. Thank you and have a pleasant day :)

there's this thing rwby does with the classic lit allusions—they did this with alice in wonderland too—where the true reference is to the original text and that is layered under an allusion to the better-known pop culture. i think the pop culture layer serves a few key purposes:

it flags the correct allusion for viewers who may not be familiar enough with the original text to recognize the allusion otherwise,

it creates opportunities for narrative sleight-of-hand, both setting up red herrings and rewarding viewers who are familiar with the original texts (<- this was part of what made V9 SO much fun for me as a Wonderland Person), and

it enriches the wider narrative themes about the power of storytelling to shape perception and the idea that truth is hard to find and things are not always what they seem by actually doing that with the key allusions.

for example: in V9, jaune presents as the white rabbit... but his white "rabbit" steed is actually a jackrabbit—i.e., a hare—and after falling backwards in time he became stuck in a metaphorical "time loop," going in circles doing the same things every day without reprieve or any real chance for escape. he lost a quarrel with time and in a sense he is being "punished" for a crime he hasn't yet committed but remembers having committed in the future—that's the hatter / hatta, not the white rabbit. (the alice in wonderland allusion also has a third layer of reference to the frank wildhorn musical, and that layer does some really neat stuff that deserves its own post.)

<- i first noticed this in V9, in part because the wonderland allusion is contained within the arc of a single volume and thus the layering is easier to spot, and in part because i'm better versed in wonderland than i am in the land of oz; but there are also—now that i know what to look for—some obvious signs that the ozian allusion is layered in the same way.

the clearest of those being glynda goodwitch. as i've mentioned before, the classic film adaptation combines glinda and the good witch of the north into a single character and thus creates the problem of why glinda didn't simply tell dorothy from the beginning that those ruby slippers could carry her home. in the book, the good witch of the north directs dorothy to travel to the emerald city to seek the wizard's help because she believes that he's a powerful wizard who will know of a way to send dorothy home. glinda—who is the witch of the south—knows that the wizard is a fraud and does not come into the story at all until dorothy seeks her out after the wizard has been revealed as a fraud and left her behind in oz.

oz is divided into four color-coded provinces: in the north, everything is purple; in the west, yellow; in the east, blue; and in the south, red. the emerald city, in the center, is made to appear entirely green because the wizard "put green spectacles on all the people" to "make the name fit better."

so, in the first episode, rwby introduces:

glynda goodwitch—whose clothing and magic are purple, and who is established in opposition to a mysterious adversary clad in red.

ozpin, the headmaster of beacon academy—note the wizard's initials are OZPINHEAD; his full name is oscar zoroaster phadrig isaac norman henkle emmanuel ambroise diggs.

glynda brings ruby to ozpin and over the course of the next few volumes it's established that she is not only ozpin's deputy but also part of his inner circle and unwavering in her faith in ozpin himself. her narrative role is that of the good witch of the north—not glinda—but her name references the pop culture composite character invented by the classic film.

'the marvelous land of oz' begins after the wizard's departure from oz. insofar as the beacon arc culminates with ozpin's death, this part of the story correlates to 'the wizard of oz'—although it is not 1-to-1 and i would argue that the role of dorothy is diffused between all of team RWBY and JNPR because the only part that matters is how the story utilizes the end of 'the wizard of oz' to subtly insinuate salem into the role of glinda.

see, the wizard intends to bring dorothy with him in his balloon when he leaves oz, but she's delayed—searching for toto—and the ropes anchoring the balloon snap before she can come aboard, leaving dorothy stranded in oz. eventually someone suggests that she ask glinda—the witch of the south—for help. glinda is said to be "the most powerful of all witches" and there is a bit of ambiguity as to whether she is a good witch or not:

"Glinda is a Good Witch, isn't she?" asked the child. "The Quadlings think she is good," said the soldier, "and she is kind to everyone. I have heard that Glinda is a beautiful woman, who knows how to keep young in spite of the many years she has lived." "How can I get to her castle?" asked Dorothy. "The road is straight to the South," he answered, "but it is said to be full of dangers to travelers. There are wild beasts in the woods, and a race of queer men who do not like strangers to cross their country. For this reasons none of the Quadlings ever come to the Emerald City."

(note how she's "the witch of the south"—unlike "the good witch of the north" and the wicked witches of the east and west.)

dorothy and her friends set out on the dangerous journey south to find glinda. the beacon arc ends by setting RWBY and JNR on a course to discover salem, whose existence is revealed to the audience in the last moments of V3. the kids, collectively, are in dorothy's shoes and like glinda, salem is the one person on remnant who understands what the shoes are and how to use them properly—figuratively speaking.

<- so the purpose of glynda goodwitch is to articulate an important thematic conceit: she's glinda the good witch of the north, a character who does not exist in the original book yet dominates the pop culture frame of reference for the land of oz, a character who is also embodies a narrative problem introduced by the conflation of two different characters who fulfill contradictory roles (one believes in the wizard and cannot help dorothy; the other knows he's a fraud and can help dorothy). glynda goodwitch is not just a red herring; her character allusion also comments thematically on ozpin's use of fairytale to distort and control the narrative regarding salem.

anyway.

the salient point with regard to theodore is that while rwby is retelling 'the marvelous land of oz,' it also alludes to the classic film in service of both the retelling and its own deeper themes.

i bring that up because theodore—on top of literally being named dorothy-but-backwards—is described like this:

Finally the double doors to the headmaster's office opened and Theodore strode out, his glittering red-gloved fists raised above his head like he had just one a fight. [...] A flowing gray-blue cape, the color of a stormy sky, was clasped around his shoulders with a silver chain. He had a silver belt with a round buckle, matching boots, and bright white slacks with deep side pockets, all carefully orchestrated to draw even more attention to himself.

his appearance is clearly intended to call the pop culture image of dorothy to mind. the glittering red gloves evoke the classic film's ruby slippers, and dorothy is of course transported to oz by a storm.

but mind the details.

theodore fastens his cloak with a silver chain. his belt is silver. his boots are silver (and that is stated obliquely, easy to miss if you skim over this description). silver silver silver. in the original book, the magic slippers are silver, not red. and his wardrobe is "carefully orchestrated" to attract attention.

the land of oz is surrounded on all sides by desert, impassible except by magical means. when dorothy uses the silver slippers to travel back to kansas, they fall off her feet en route and are lost in the desert forever. theodore is the headmaster of shade and de facto king of vacuo—which is a inhospitable wasteland surrounded on all sides by harsh desert. he wears ruby gloves... and silver boots. like glynda goodwitch, his attention-grabbing outward appearance locates itself in a contradiction between the book and the film.

which dorothy is he?

trick question. he represents the silver slippers, fallen to rest somewhere in the desert separating oz from the rest of the world. this serves two important, and interlocking, purposes:

it tells us not to look for a dorothy—because dorothy isn't here. she went home. she's in kansas. dorothy doesn't figure at all in 'the marvelous land of oz' except insofar as the scarecrow and the tin man remember her fondly. (the god of darkness is the real dorothy—because he's gone.)

it marks vacuo as the desert outside of oz—not part of oz.

the second point matters because marvelous land's climactic sequence begins with glinda chasing mombi all the way from the emerald city to the desert past the edge of oz, where mombi collapses from sheer exhaustion and glinda binds her and hauls her bodily back to the emerald city to account for her wrongdoing. this weaves the ozian narrative together with the maiden-in-tower allusions and the little prince like this:

glinda must subdue mombi in the desert before ozma can be released from her curse;

rapunzel's prince is blinded and wanders alone in a wasteland until her voice leads him back to her and her tears restore his sight;

the pilot is stranded in a desert and must learn to see with his heart instead of his eyes in order to find water.

if we examine these together, understanding salem as glinda and rapunzel, mombi as the god of light, and ozma as both the prince and the pilot, that is very strongly suggestive of what is going to happen in vacuo. should rwby continues to follow the plot structure of 'the marvelous land of oz' as closely as it has been, i predict that:

salem will take cinder and return to vale, where her villain -> hero arc will begin facilitated by character development in relation to cinder and summer rose;

they will identify what sort of "deception" ozpin used to hide the relic's location, realize that the extra layer of defense cannot be circumvented, and go to vacuo. (specifically, i suspect ozpin incorporated the branwen twins into the crown's protections);

in vacuo, salem will put all her cards on the table, tell everyone what she is trying to accomplish and why. negotiations ensue. the possibility of freeing ozma from oscar is introduced and possibly carried out. the god of light is symbolically defeated—everyone rejects the divine mandate.

everyone returns to beacon to bring the crown of choice out of its vault and initiate the final confrontation with the god of light.

with most of the curve balls coming from what the vacuo coalition faces while salem is preoccupied with the beacon relic and how everyone reacts to the olive branch of summer rose being... alive.

insofar as theodore figures into this, given the prominence of silver in his character design i wonder if he won't turn out to represent not just the silver slippers that were lost but also the silver wishing pills.

in marvelous land, tip comes into possession of a set of wish-granting silver pills that can grant any wish after being swallowed. when he and his friends escape the conquered emerald city, they accidentally overshoot glinda's home and fly all the way to the far side of the desert before crash landing in a nest of antagonistic jackdaws. tip tries to use one of the pills to get them home, but when he swallows it, it hurts him so badly that he cries out in pain and wishes that he'd never taken it in the first place—which comes true at once. the pill is uneaten. then the woggle-bug uses the same pill to repair their flying contraption* so they can escape from the jackdaws and return to oz.

(*it's called the gump and it's two couches lashed together with leaves for wings, a broom for a tail, and a stuffed elk-like head for a head, brought to life by magical powder. it defies easy description)

so there is some obvious overlap in role between the silver shoes and the silver wishing pills in that both are magical silver items the main characters use to get home—and like the slippers, the pills are lost during the journey home. (the characters conclude that tip must have left them behind in the jackdaws' nest by mistake.)

but the interesting part, as it pertains to theodore, is that when tippetarius tries to use one of the pills, it poisons him. there is nothing actually wrong with the pill itself—the woggle-bug uses it without coming to any harm. the incident is not really explained, but of course tippetarius is under a curse that hides his true identity as the princess ozma and later in the book glinda implies that certain kinds of magic simply do not mix well together; for all her great power, she cannot undo mombi's curse herself because her own magic abhors deception and illusion. so perhaps the silver pill poisons tippetarius because he is not himself. the curse mombi placed upon him blinds him to his true self.

now in rwby, theodore is the last headmaster standing and the effective ruler of vacuo, and the sword of destruction that ozma last used to end the great war is locked in a vault underneath shade academy. if salem does not arrive to lay siege to vacuo as the coalition expects her to, the coalition will face pressure to do something in order to counteract the fraught social and political divisions threatening to tear vacuo apart—remember, this is a country on the brink of civil war that weathered a failed popular coup during the events of V7.

that creates strong incentives for a counter-offensive. to find out where salem is "hiding" after her (as the coalition will see it) pyrrhic victory in atlas and take the fight to her—which sounds great on paper but becomes a rather fraught proposition once salem is discovered to be at beacon. if the vacuo coalition attacks her forces at beacon, vale gets caught in the crossfires—and attacking beacon of all places will not be good for the morale of the coalition's fighters either. but doing nothing may still be the worse option, because that risks the coalition breaking apart without an immediate common enemy to confront. and theodore—as characterized in 'before the dawn'—very much seems like the type of character to favor a counter-offensive under these circumstances.

and that's tip's poison pill—ozma's submission to the divine mandate and the distorted narrative he's constructed around salem prevent anyone on his side of this conflict from seeing another option besides "defend" and "counterattack," when the true solution is "negotiate." the woggle-bug—raven—is able to find the true solution because she holds knowledge about salem (and summer) that the other characters do not. if theodore and his silver trappings represent the pill tippetarius cannot use, then summer and her silver eyes represent the pill the woggle-bug can.

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