#a journey through my drafts

[disregardcanon]

yellowjackets au where coach martinez lives through the crash. it does not, actually, make things better

bill martinez was a good soccer coach- a great one, even. he could call a play the other team never expected, spot talent at the middle school level and make for DAMN sure those girls kept playing in high school. he could pick captains with a talent for motivating the others and keeping a team together and keep his lowest achieving athletes scraping by in classes enough to keep the on the team. he could even drag all their butts through from states to nationals.

but coaching a soccer team is a lot different than trying to lead his girls, his boys, and his assistant coach through a survival situation in the wilderness.

he tries his hardest to maintain control over the situation, but there's a LOT of situation to control. coach scott's been seriously injured and no one but misty quigley has the time or mental space to help him deal with it, and beyond Making Sure that Ben Stays Alive, he doesn't have the mental space to deal with it, either. he's happy to delegate his assistant's care to the team manager. if ben tries to talk to him about how misty's poisoning him (that's absurd, scott. what would she get out of that?) or making romantic advances on him (well then, be a man and get her to stop? come on, scott, she's under five foot five inches. she's not even one of our PLAYERS and you're saying you can't hold her off? i have more important things to deal with here.)

he lets coach scott organize his Lets See Who's Gonna Hunt For Us party, and has him be in charge of it because ben's the one with the hunting experience, but he's also... very much Flexing His I'm Really In Charge Muscles. he reams both ben and travis new assholes about travis aiming the gun at natalie (and he does it with all the others there) and then he tries to talk ben out of appointing travis as the second hunter. ben refuses to have that talk in public, but bill's like look my son is Very Unstable and Highly Emotional and i don't think you should give him a gun. and i also don't want him spending that much time with natalie scatorrcio. i like her and i trust her with our lives, but someday we're going back to The Real World and she's going to die in a ditch and i'm trying to get travis to Not Fucking Do That. but ben thinks about how he's technically in charge of this choice and how bill told him to man up about misty quigley's behavior... so he puts the gun in travis's hands and dares bill to make a comment about it.

beyond trying to control his son's life and belittling his assistant coach, bill's biggest concerns are with the basics of survival, keeping jackie and tai in line, doing things that are probably helpful to keep travis from Behaving Like Travis and things that are Very Much Not Helpful for That, trying to get javi to integrate more with the group, and trying to figure out how much he can trust coach scott to back him up on any given decision.

he hates the seance idea, but lets jackie organize it because hopefully it will help with their team building. he tells travis and javi they should stay out of it, which makes travis go up immediately and makes javi sneak up. so that dad doesn't see and think badly of me

when tai decides to make her Wilderness Adventure, he decides to accompany the group because they might have more luck with him there. he tries to get travis to come with them and bring the gun, but coach scott digs his heels in about the gun staying with the group and the girls all... side with him... and travis refuses to come along. javi WANTS to, but bill won't let him because he says he won't be able to help and will be safer with his brother. who he makes eye contact with like if you don't protect your little brother i will be ending you, travis.

he goes on the expedition and tries to be in charge by virtue of being The Coach and The Adult, but van is just here to make sure tai doesn't die, mari and akilah are here for tai, and tai is still sore that he didn't make her captain. so if he doesn't do things HER way then he's just going to have to deal with doing them alone. (van gets her face eaten, coach loses an arm, and they make their way back with terrible injuries and their tails between their legs)

when they get back and get the injuries taken care of, laura lee announces her intentions to fly the plane to get them help. coach scott says that's a dumb idea and no one else is dying on his watch, but coach martinez says it's a great idea and he'll help her. and thus, the power struggle continues. he gets some information from laura lee about Visions that lottie's been having and goes. oh. oh shit. i forgot about the schizophrenia. he tries to talk to laura lee about how Lottie Is Probably Very Sick Right Now, and she doesn't listen, and then he tries to talk to lottie herself about it. lottie is starting to drink her wilderness koolaid and is like coach. i think that i have visions and i think the wilderness is telling me what we need to know to survive. he keeps it to himself for a while, but is like lottie matthews if you do anything stupid i'm going to tell EVERYONE! and that. is a very big point of tension.

jackie reveals that shauna is pregnant, he reams shauna a new asshole in public about how stupid that was and how clear he made the team protection requirements and how they could get it, and then he confronts both travis and coach scott about whether or not they got her pregnant. his son is very upset that he thinks he's sleeping with SHAUNA and didn't even notice what was happening with natalie, and the coach scott just. laughs at him. laughs right in his face. he's been beating misty quigley off of himself with a stick but he got shauna shipman pregnant. sure.

he tries to get jackie to participate more in being Alive, and she helps him and laura lee with the plane stuff more than anyone else.

when laura lee goes kablooey and lottie notices before it's started, a lot of the girls start to go Wilderness Prophet. bill notices that something's off about the energy but doesn't know what to do about it beyond. encouraging jackie's last attempt at teambuilding. the kids can have a dance if they want, right? he'll try to find something to get them free. something something something there still has to be SOMETHING

he doesn't attend the dance or eat any of the food. he stays inside and rakes through information in the books. he hears travis and jackie come in and wonders what the fuck's up with that, and then hears them upstairs and goes. shit. that's what's up. hopefully my reaming of travis made it so he used protection, at least, and then he hears a big group of the kids burst in and they start... the events. he gets the fuck up and opens the door to see what the hell's going on, but all he sees is- lottie shoving jackie in a closet and then they're passing his High As A Kite Son Around. and he's trying to get through to them to figure out WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING, but soon it's a hunt, chasing travis out the door. he runs out after them, trying to figure out what the hell is happening and how to stop it from happening, and he comes and tries to use his coach voice to get it to stop. but no one listens.

"you don't matter anymore" lottie tells him. he thinks about getting physical, but that's- shauna, holding a knife to his son's throat. it only stops because natalie scatorccio bursts out and makes them.

the girls finally disperse, finding different places to run off to, and travis left... collapsing. he doesn't want his dad around, of course he doesn't, even though he's high enough he barely knows what's happening beyond Not Dead Not Dead Not Dead. and natalie promises to make sure he's okay and then orders him (HIM!) to go find javi.

and he tries. he tears through the cabin, the meat shed, down by the lake, all the areas around the cabin, and finally he collapses in a pile of leaves and sleeps right there in the woods. when dawn breaks and wakes him up, he searches for hours again, but can't find him. he has to come back to try to eat and tell everyone that javi is, for sure, missing. he tries to get travis to join him on HIS search, but travis has decided that he and NATALIE are going to do it together. without his help. "i don't want you criticizing every move i make." he looks to natalie, please back me up, but she shrugs.

"dads aren't always good people. i'm not sure i trust you with him, either."

the girls killed a bear.

"no," coach says, "jackie is right. this isn't some sort of gift from the forest. lottie isn't a prophet." van glares. "well how do you know, coach? you couldn't protect us from those wolves. lottie's amulet kept all my LIMBS attached!"

"she has schizophrenia, vanessa, not psychic powers." the room falls silent.

"is that true?" van asks gently.

"i-" lottie's voice catches in her throat. she starts crying, and just... sits there. it's a yes.

"SEE!" bill demands, pointing towards her, "she's just off her meds. she tried to kill my son yesterday, are we really going to pretend she's some... forest jesus?"

coach scott glares. "coach, that's... really fucked up. you don't just- out a kid like that."

"that kid," coach says, gesturing wildly to lottie, "almost killed my son because of her psychiatric problems! she's dragging the rest of them in, and i thought they ought to know she's crazy."

suddenly, the confrontation here isn't jackie vs everyone else. it's coach martinez vs lottie matthews...

"vanessa-" a core member of the group. if she changed her tune, that could sway all of them.

"lottie should have gotten to tell us that herself," van says firmly, "and hell, what if it's made up? what if she's... always been magic?"

bill turns to taissa. "come on, taissa. surely YOU don't believe this?" taissa refuses to make eye contact. he can't try mari, because she's been falling under lottie's spell for months. akilah, mari, misty- all lost causes.

"shauna?" he asks. shauna moves a little closer to taissa. he doesn't even bother asking coach scott. they've been drifting further apart for this entire time. he can't trust his assistant to back him up on ANYTHING.

that leaves jackie taylor, his team captain. the girl who, when they crashed, could have gotten those girls to move mountains. maybe she still has some of that left.

"captain?" he asks cautiously.

jackie is angry at a lot of things and a lot of people. she doesn't want to be here, and she knows that shauna doesn't love her and she knows the girls wouldn't side with her the way they are with lottie.

but she's still a YELLOWJACKET. "that was lottie's secret to share."

some of the tension left in the room dissipates. maybe, just maybe, if natalie were still here she could make a difference. he knows that travis has poisoned her against him to some extent, but she's not that easily led. even if she didn't like him revealing lottie's diagnosis, she's against their insanity enough that she might agree they need to be cautious- that it's important information to have, to make sure the girls don't lead them to becoming some sort of pagan forest cult.

but natalie isn't here. travis isn't here, to show whether he'd side with his father or with the girls who assaulted him, and javi certainly isn't. because he and travis and natalie are the only ones who have even thought about searching for their youngest member.

"fine," he says, "if you'd prefer to let the girl who gets visions thank the forest for you, go ahead. i'm going to go find my son."

he freezes to death in the woods that very night, just a hundred feet away from the cabin. travis and natalie find his body when they leave again that morning for the hunt, and even though travis didn't like him and things just got worse in the wilderness... he bawls. he takes his father's ring for javi, when they finally find him, and they let the rest of the group know what happened.

jackie thinks about the fight she was about to have, about how she might have... gone outside and slept there, just to prove a point. she talks to shauna about it instead of letting it boil. it's still not pretty, but she lives longer.

lottie has to deal with the prophet thing even more, since this conflict very explicitly got the coach killed. if she doesn't lean into it... what else is left?

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets aus #bill martinez #travis martinez #lottie matthews #jackie taylor #van palmer #a journey through my drafts

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

"What do you mean their name isn't Beef?"

(for @moondal514)

#TGCF #he xuan #I only know TGCF through having multiple people try and explain it to me + watching S1 of the animated series. #And fandom osmosis of some characters and plot points. #So I had a genuine 'A platypus? *PERRY* the platypus?' moment when doing research for this prompt. #My method for drawing novel characters is to read their description + personality and make a few drafts from there. #Sometimes I get curious and look up official art on a wiki. Ensue the: “huh who is this (sees the female form) I KNOW WHO THIS IS” #Anyways this is actually just a warm up. An unprecedented part 2 comes tomorrow. #Because the journey of “How *would* I draw he xuan?” took me on a wild journey that nearly drove me into madness. #Spoilers: its not how I drew HX in this comic. It's more...on brand for this blog. Lets leave it there. Everyone gets a 24 hour warning. #Thank you Moondal514 for pushing me into the deepest waters on this one. I am forever changed.

[camilletea]

I don't mind forever if it's with you.

If it takes jumping off a railing from the highest cliff and reach for a Legendary Pokémon just to meet the person who will become the love of his life, Gou will gladly do it all over again.

Take me with you, he won't hesitate to say; because Gou knows that he'll be ripping a part of himself if he just stands and idly watches as Ash walks away. If he lets the boy slip through his fingers, he'll definitely regret it.

Gou doesn't mind forever if it's with Ash.

#satogou #pokeani #pokemon #pokemon journeys #gou #goh #pokemon goh #pokemon gou #satoshi #ash ketchum #pokemon satoshi #was reading through my old drafts from 2 years ago and found this

[dangaer]

being 'cringe' is banned in 2024. being yourself is not weird at all and embracing any emotion you feel is in.

#❛ 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ⧽ — ooc. #damn going through my self positivity journey this year and honestly gonna put it out there #no more apologising for feeling like you're too much #no more apologising for feeling you're doing too little! #communication is important and YOU are a single person trying to make through every single day!!!!! #even waking up is an achievement - 100% #im just in that phase where im beginning to support myself with these ideals. #im jupiter im a pisces which makes me a water sign and that means i am EMOTIONAL and i will be consistantly loving and that makes others as #happy as it makes me to speak out and thats a beautiful part of my personality that sometimes even i should celebrate!!!! #no more calling people cringe for unharmful behaviours. no weird interests #just things that bring joy to the faces of those you know and love #anyway ... im editing my drafts from november and i just wanna say #... self postivity moment but jupiter u do write better than u think u do too queen #having a good self confidence moment. want to remind everyone else u can have those and /feel them/ too :) <3

[ivyithink]

“It takes a lot to know a man

It takes a lot to understand

The warrior, the sage

The little boy enraged”

#my art #my doodles #this has been in my drafts for so long #went through so many sketches #not that happy about the result but it’s fine I guess #ugghhh I’m just tired of looking at this #but I’ve wanted to do a piece with those lyrics for months #I think about uhtred every time I hear them #what a journey he had #I’m actually glad I’ve finished this before the film comes out #feels appropriate #a humble tribute to a beloved character)) #the song is ‘it takes a lot to know a man’ by damien rice #for curious ones #those are kinda the only lyrics that fit this art but it’s a lovely song on its own) #the last kingdom #tlk #tlk uhtred #uhtred of bebbanburg #uhtred ragnarsson

[swashbucklery]

My weekend starts today and I am going to try to crush as much of this draft as possible. Feel free to throw Willow Feelings Asks my way of really any flavour but especially especially anything ot3 related.

#i am at the Feelings Peak #my outline is just a mess of different scene ideas all of which are trying to outgay each other #i will wade through it but what a journey my draft and i will go on together #ot3: kit and jade and elora something something powerful magic #willow fake marriage ot3 au #writing tag

[yung-goos]

"If you can't love/be devoted to yourself, then how can you expect anybody else to?" how do yall expect people to actually get better with self care when everyones so determined to not bother with anyone whos appears to be "difficult"? how do you expect people to love themselves when no one else seems to? like I'm not expecting people to adopt a "I can fix them" sort of mentality with every self deprecating, lonely person you meet, but I really think people severely undervalue how much help simply being present in someones life can bring. like are we not social creatures? do we not thrive in community? what makes people think that the fix to this is by doing it alone? Idk. Eyyyyyye really don't know.

#also I know this quote doesnt necessarily imply having to do it alone #like of course theres exceptions #like dealing with someone who is actively harming you or makes you doubt yourself shouldn't be tolerated of course #the lines - however - about what is and isn't tolerable seems so blurry and faded atp #going through my own self love journey alone has really shown me you can't get to your “Best self” all alone #but also how walled off everyone has become #but that might be influenced alot by my age and just growing up in general #I blame individualism #and by extension the patriarchy #but eh... still figuring it out I guess #rambles #dont mind me just going through me drafts

[inkovert]

Welcome back to writeblr! ...I say as I only now dip back in myself after too many years of lurking. >.> I can't wait to follow along with your journey of editing your draft! I'm at a similar point in my writing, and while there's so much talk about writing and plotting and eventually publishing maybe, sometimes it feels lonely to work in that in-between zone of being "done" but not really. And congrats on 60 books! That's insane! As someone who desperately needs to read more, do you have any recommendations for Best and Worst books that you read?

aw thank you! Yes I definitely get the lurking. I've been lurking myself for the past few months but have finally decided to commit to posting again.

Haha I didn't think my editing journey would be of interest to anyone so I'm happy to hear that. I may post about it more than I'd intended to then in hopes that it may be useful to someone.

I 100% agree with you - though I understand finishing a draft of a story requires a *massive* amount of time/effort so understandable that there aren't floods of people posting about this part of the process - but I have been floundering to find advice about editing and while there is some out there I wish there was more! And just more commiseration about how hard it is? Like I've only just started in the last month and I haven't made much progress, I'm still figuring out an organized method to go about it. All that is to say I'm happy to commiserate with you any time about this "done-but-not-really" phase that we're both in lol.

Re best and worst books I've read: oof. It has so much to do with preference! A book that I consider 10/10 great someone else may not find their cup of tea. If you're asking for book recommendations for you to personally read for enjoyment I'd need more info on what you personally look for in books! If you're looking for recommendations on books to read to analyze story elements that I think have been done well and/or not so well, that's a list I'll provide below (excuse if this is not what you were asking for):

Books Stronger in Important Story Elements

A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles:  Strengths: Storytelling, narrative voice/tone, well-rounded characters, character development. Weaknesses/Criticisms: time-jumps could be confusing.

 I think this novel was brilliant and so enjoyable because of the way the story was told. Of all the things I listed as its strengths the biggest was the character development. Following The Count (the MC) from where he began to where he ended, and how his growth came about so organically was so satisfying. And despite the slower-pacing of this story, the narration is delivered in such a charming way to keep you engaged and turning the pages. 

Legendborn by Tracey Deonn:  Strengths: everything.  Weaknesses/Criticisms: nothing (I’m joking I just can’t think of any).

This book is probably in my top three reads of this year. You want well-rounded characters with clear motivations? You got it. You want amazing and well-explained worldbuilding with information delivered to you at necessary times and not info-dumped into a wall of exposition? You got it. You want a well-paced story that nicely balances the heightened action and suspenseful beats of the story with the low-stakes emotional, introspective beats that will keep you hungrily devouring the pages? You got it. You want a well-developed and not-forced romantic subplot? You got it. I have nothing bad to say about this book, but I’m sure there are criticisms out there if you want to go looking for them. 

Pachinko by Lee Min-Jin:  Strengths: strong characters/character development over long time period, thematically strong Weaknesses/Criticisms: again, don’t have any but they’re there ofc

If you are writing an epic saga or a series, even though this book is a standalone, I think it’s a masterclass in how to write realistic characters who readers get to follow over an extended period of time. You can watch how they grow over a number of decades and simultaneously how they retain their flaws and the core of their identities. A big theme/trope of this story is generational trauma, which is handled incredibly well. 

The Great Alone by Kristin Hannah  Strengths: strong atmospheric writing and strong conflict  Weaknesses/Criticisms: Some people think the ending was rushed/too unrealistic- while I understand the criticism I don’t agree with it so form your own opinion!

I will preface this by saying there are a number of CWs in this book that I would look up before reading because I was shocked/unprepared when they came up as I was reading. That being said, this is an emotionally heavy book. But what I think it does the best is that it makes it clear from the get-go that the setting is a major character of the book, and Hannah does so with such strong atmospheric writing that you can feel yourself in the bone-chilling, bleak, harsh winters of Alaska. But even more than that, is that the major conflict(s) that are central to the story are not just man vs. man or man vs. self but also man vs. nature. The setting is a silent but imposing antagonist, that is foreshadowed long before it becomes a threat, which makes this book even more terrifyingly engaging. 

Books Weaker in Important Story Elements

Disclaimer: I am criticizing these books purely from a writing stand-point. These books may be great content/premise wise; they’re probably someone’s favorite book, and that’s fine. But objectively I think most of my writing-specific criticisms are valid (and I’ve read reviews from other readers who have shared similar viewpoints). 

Olga Dies Dreaming by Xochitl Gonzales

I hate to criticize an author of color because there’s so few of us out there. But that doesn’t mean we’re above making mistakes. To be fully transparent, I did not finish this book (DNF'd @ 30%), but I was buddy reading it with a friend who did finish it and she told me that all the issues I had with it carried on to the end of the book, so I feel confident/comfortable still saying this. This book had a lot of potential, and the premise was quite interesting, but the strength of the story got buried beneath heaps of exposition/info-dumping, a lot of “telling” not “showing” (mostly with regards to the characters, which made it hard for me to connect with them and see them as real people). Another issue this book suffered from was its lack of focus. The author attempted to tackle way too many things in this story, which left her unable to meaningfully explore any one theme/subplot. So this book taught me that being overambitious with the topics I’m trying to tackle may not always be a good thing and can cause my story to suffer. And info-dumping on your readers can make them want to pull their hair out (at least that was the case for me). See: Lengendborn on how to balance the info you give readers.

Things We Do In the Dark by Jennifer Hillier This is a thriller/mystery novel also by an author of color (I’m sorry). This book did a lot of things well and I think it was a great novel…just not as a thriller. It took me a while to figure out why I felt meh about this book and it was because there was such a lack of suspense. I wasn’t sitting at the edge of my seat wondering what would happen next. I felt like I was reading a contemporary fiction novel sans thriller. 

Upgrade by Blake Crouch Same as above. This book did not have me hanging at the edge of my seat despite being a sci-fi thriller. What I believe this book suffered from most though, is that it felt like it was written for a movie adaptation, and not to please/satisfy its readers. In this new age where books are being shuttle to the screen with increasing frequency, I get it (esp because this author already has one his books being adapted to screen). But I think that just sets you up for the “movie is better than the book” comment. If you’re a novelist, honor your medium and write a book, not a screenplay. 

An Unkindness of Magicians by Kat Howard There are too many issues with this book to count, so I’ll just list the lessons that I learned post-read: If you’re writing a book with multiple POVs, make sure each POV matters. Don’t use multiple POVs just to give the illusion that the story is fast-paced just because we’re constantly shifting POVs, or to make it seem like more is happening in your story when really…nothing is. It just makes the story unnecessarily complicated and hard to follow. Put as much time and effort into crafting villains as you do your main characters. Don’t make them caricatures! Make them well-rounded so they feel real and I actually give a shit about them even if I don’t agree with them. If you’re gonna build up to some intense moment or event - make sure there’s actually a satisfying payoff. Don’t end every conflict/battle in two sentences. It just makes me as a reader stop trusting you every time you point a red arrow at a scene and say “Look! This is cool/important!” I'll walk away feeling cheated and lied to.

I hope this was somewhat helpful to *someone* even if this wasn’t what you were looking for. Feel free to ask any follow up questions or come back and chat with me :) 

#sorry this took a minute to answer #I had to really go back through my goodreads and remember what books I'd read this year #and then I was overwhelmed about how to talk about each book #but this was a fun exercise #that I'm happy to maybe do in the future if people find it helpful? #I think reading is *such* an important step in improving your writing that people overlook #understandably so because finding time to read is not easy #but it's really helped me on my writing journey #especially as I go back and edit my first draft #now I know things that made me put down books I was reading #and I know to avoid said things #ask

[notedchampagne]

18 and 15

15. Biggest artist pet peeve?

i hate the fill tool because of how hard it is to select/fill in the exact colors i want without spilling over Or manually editing it myself

18. Do you have any larger projects you’d like to pursue? Like comics, shortfilm, a series etc?

i have... a stupid amount of comics thumbnailed and titled in my head. it kills me if i have too many wips in a backlog so i just have like 2-3 different comics/lyricstuck ideas at a time while stuff like this

haunts me for incompletion. as for more concrete longterm projects i have about ~3 separate oc narratives whose plots i sift through until i feel confident enough to get it down on paper

#first narrative is threshold which is told through two perspectives: 1 linearly through a younger generations journey to meet an older gen #and 2 which acts more like a vignette/anthology to the backstory of the older generation until they both join together to form 1 narrative #the second idea in my head is about lesbians and werewolves which admittedly has taken better form in my head #due to there being less characters and more concrete themes #the third idea in my head ALREADY HAS DRAFTS. THAT I HAVENT FINISHED <== in agony #its about the unceasing rage of a teenage girl* and eating gods angels #talking back

[radio-4-is-static]

バケーションに沿って / Along Vacation | Helsinki Lambda Club

#バケーションに沿って #along vacation #ヘルシンキラムダクラブ #helsinki lambda club #hlc #music #new music #音楽 #gif #my gifs #one week until their new album !!!! #ahhhh i love all the singles so far #and i was pleasantly surprised to see that the 3 they released at the end of 2021 are on the album too! #(i may or may not have a gifset of those very same singles that's been sitting in my drafts for months) #(which i will post right after this one 😅) #very excited for the collab with ford trio as well bc the other song they did together is SO GOOD #but yesss !!! #they just had their 10 year anniversary too 🎉🎉 #i didn't know this before i read the article for randonnee but apparently each album is connected to the idea of 'travel' #whether it be a physical place or through time or a spiritual journey #and it's all culminated to reach this point #we are here! #we have finally arrived at the helsinki lambda club!! #⛰️🎡🏕️

[disregardcanon]

Yellowjackets au where the night Jackie is freezing to death, Travis finally stumbles back from his Javi hunt at like 3 AM and notices her freezing outside the cabin. He wakes her up, makes her come back inside to warm up (she DOES have frostbite and loses some fingers) and they have a heart to heart and become weird friends that had sex one time.

Highlight “No one wants me here anyone,” Jackie says, “I’m the bitch that slept with Nat’s boyfriend! Everyone sided with Shauna over me…. I should just stay out here.”

He looks at her like she’s grown a second head. “Don’t be a fucking idiot, Jackie. No one’s EVER wanted me here. Does that mean I go out in the woods and die about it?!?”

#Yellowjackets #Yellowjackets aus #travis martinez #Jackie Taylor #a journey through my drafts #but they’re paper notes I’m throwing away

[sas-soulwriter]

What to give a fuck about,while writing your first draft!

I`ve posted a list about things you don´t need to give a fuck about while writing your first draft. Here are things you NEED TO CARE about! (in my opinion)

Your Authentic Voice: Don't let the fear of judgment or comparison stifle your unique voice. I know it´s hard,but try to write from your heart, and don't worry about perfection in the first draft. Let your authenticity shine through your words.

Your Story, Your Way: It's your narrative, your world, and your characters. Don't let external expectations or trends dictate how your story should unfold. Write the story you want to tell.

Progress Over Perfection: Your first draft is not the final product; it's the raw material for your masterpiece. Give a fuck about making progress, not achieving perfection. Embrace imperfections and understand that editing comes later.

Consistency and Routine: Discipline matters. Make a commitment to your writing routine and stick to it.

Feedback and Growth: While it's essential to protect your creative space during the first draft, be open to constructive feedback later on. Giving a f*ck about growth means you're willing to learn from others and improve your work.

Self-Compassion: Mistakes, writer's block, and self-doubt are all part of the process. Give a f*ck about being kind to yourself. Don't beat yourself up if the words don't flow perfectly every time. Keep pushing forward and remember that writing is a journey.

Remember, the first draft is your canvas, your playground. Don't bog yourself down with unnecessary worries.

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[guacamoleroll]

𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 「𝔩𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯」 ೀ⋆｡˚

content. f!reader. discussions of separation/divorce, friends to lovers, (name) is a fallen angel, sexual harassment, insecurities, discussions of mental health, spoilers for hazbin hotel season finale, implied/referenced not-safe for work. not proofread. 3.3k+ words.

author's note. i'm not sure if i'll be making a valentine's day post, but i haven't updated in a while, and i wanted to post something. so here's another hazbin hotel oneshot that's been in my drafts for a while! (sorry to all my bsd readers, i will be posting content soon!) i hope you guys enjoy ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. two fallen ones, cut from the same cloth, destinies forever intertwined by the choices you made as young seraphim.

OR someone comes in to try and ruin your relationship with lucifer, and he isn't happy about it.

You remembered the sensation of an eternal inferno, the mark of damnation that scorched your fingertips, submerging your divine being within a cluster of flames. Exiled from the heavens—a fate worse than death to most became an accepted element of your newfound reality. You never belonged perched atop clouds, even with the virtue nestled in the recesses of your heart. A part of you feared the unknown as you descended through novas and clouds, but it felt like a pressure had lifted from your being as those imposing gates shrunk behind you.

As the first of a cluster of falling stars, your impact landed you on the steaming ground of a new, hellish landscape, your mind scattered from the force of the fall, limbs trembling with their aching joints. And that was when you saw him, a brand-new man who held out his hand, smile desperate yet reassuring. The Morning Star himself, brought upon the same fate, still shaken from the tragedy of his descent—it had been much more personal for him.

“It’ll be okay, (Name),” his familiar voice reassured, but it was impossible not to hear the waver in his tone as your hands intertwined. “It’ll all be okay.”

And with a single touch, traversing hand-in-hand through this foreign land, you knew that someday, he would be right.

But that happened many millennia ago, a tale for storybooks rather than a memory that should’ve constantly been on a loop in your mind, held onto during the dead of lonely, bitter nights. Despite your long-standing friendship, the both of you held very separate lives—him with his family, you with your industry. You worked in tandem in relation to the public and aristocratic duties but otherwise barely spoke past the occasional smile and wave. And no, you couldn’t help the desolation that had sprouted inside your heart, the muscle aching as you observed his radiant smile from across ballrooms, the king exchanging affectionate glances at his wife while coddling his sweet daughter. But you were happy for him all the same. He deserved to be surrounded by those he loved, deserved to be happy after years of heartbreak, even if you weren’t in the picture.

But you knew that you could depend on each other, even if you hadn’t spoken in months. It was an unspoken connection between you, a rule unbroken. Which was the reason you knew his midnight call one evening had been serious. His voice was flooded with anguish, sputtering out incomprehensible words as his breath caught with every beat. You dropped everything, the paperwork and meeting planning, flying over with speed so fast that the denizens of Hell whispered for days about the shooting star that had flown across the sky that evening. 

In your journey, there was one persistent question that kept bothering you—why wasn’t his wife the one to comfort him? It wasn’t that you minded, not at all, but the entire situation struck you as odd. However, your answer became clear as you cracked open the doors to his bed chambers; the room was frozen and still as if left abandoned. However, the knocked-over furniture and smashed artifacts only made it look like it was robbed, which you highly doubted. And there in the center of the chaos was the Morning Star himself—no, Lucifer. Simply Lucifer. His body crumpled to the ground, painful hiccups leaving his lips. You slipped inside with ease and were about to grab his attention, and then you spotted it, the large lettering of a familiar type of document—a divorce agreement.

You were aware that the relationship between Lucifer and Lilith wasn’t perfect, not by any means. When they had fallen in love, there wasn’t a guideline for navigating relationships and marriage. They had to play it entirely by ear, leading to rushed decisions and a shaky foundation. You had always believed that they were each other’s perfect half, but it was only because their punishment and subsequent banishment had tied them together and forced them to suffer the same fate. At least, that was their belief for a couple of millennia. It didn’t mean that the split that was bound to happen didn’t hurt.

His cries had been hard to hear, throaty and painful, his body trembling as he mourned on the floor. It took a culmination of your mental and physical strength to unravel him, forcing him away from those papers and into an embrace, slowly steadying his breath with yours as he clung to you as if you would leave if he let go. That night set the standard for weeks of a miserable routine, with the former king reduced to sobs and silence. It was unbearable, especially as he pulled away from those who cared for him—his fellow sins, his friends, and especially his daughter. But you continued to hold on, not leaving even with his harsh utterances and occasional outbursts. You wouldn’t let him be alone, couldn’t let him be alone, moving into the broken family’s manor to care for him full-time.

And he would always be thankful for that.

His mental health was climbing uptick for years, fluctuating back and forth until he had stabilized, at least in comparison to his state before. He became fantastic at masking his depression, brushing it underneath the rug as he delved into his own creations, pushing many of his relationships even further away as he stopped leaving home. You were the one to bring him food and clean the estate—his staff had drifted to other careers over the past few years. You were the one assuring that he wasn’t left hunched over a bench in the worst posture possible, toiling away with his latest obsession, no matter the cuteness of the ducks.

In his more conscious moments, you would listen as he ranted about his issues, even though you both were aware they were a product of his self-isolation. But in those instants, whispering quietly as if the heavens still held onto your every word, hiding from its light as if the touch of it would scorch your skin, an intimacy blossomed from the depths of your former friendship. It had remained idle for centuries, underlying the foundation of every interaction and word, leaving fleeting touches and shared laughter in your blissful youths for stern support and brief softness in your demonic adulthoods—neither of you ever noticed that you saw the other through heart-shaped lenses. Two fallen ones, cut from the same cloth, destinies forever intertwined by the choices you made as young seraphim.

But that had been the norm for thousands of years.

And without knowing, you had fallen into a relationship stage humans had archaically dubbed as “courting,” traveling outside the estate for the chance to spend time with one another, exchanging personalized gifts whenever the opportunity arose, swapping words of encouragement and affection. It was only after you had kissed him on the cheek one night that you both realized your feelings, and it only spiraled on from there. There were scars from his past love—undoubtedly, you had nurtured them with care—but even despite those, you worked to establish a healthy, balanced relationship as you navigated this strange stage in your lives.

However, there was someone who had not been quite so fond of this new development. You had attended meetings with the Heaven Embassy for many years as a favor to Lucifer, his absence becoming common after his separation from Lilith, but you could still remember locking eyes with the first man as you entered the room, dropping the chicken drum in his hands as his mouth widen agape.

“Hot damn.”

His flirtatious and oftentimes self-centered advances didn’t fly past your head like you wished they would. It seemed despite having thousands of years under his belt, he was unable to learn any kind of manners, but he had been the original sexist prick. And for his status as a divine man, he fucked around a lot. You didn’t doubt that was due to his own insecurities about both of his wives preferring someone else’s dick over his.

Once you and Lucifer had started dating, you happened to make the mistake of slipping that information to Adam in the hopes that he would back off, but it only seemed to provide him a challenge as his flirtations increased tenfold. From then on, your meetings no longer consisted of the same old information surrounding the exterminations; rather, they were him pointing out the many sexual accolades that he had roped under his belt and the way that apparently made him better than Lucifer—his favorite line was always that “that snake must have a little snake.”

Your disdain was obvious, repeating over and over for him to shut his mouth, but he would only smirk, taking your response as a sign that he had struck a nerve and that it was an opportunity to dig deeper. You decided to take over all the meetings with the embassy, keeping Lucifer away from the lecherous banter of the man, no matter the discomfort that formed in your gut from his unabashed perverseness and the predatory stares at your body.

“Come onnnn, babe,” Adam whined, in the middle of biting the meat off a chicken bone.

You shot him a look. “I’m not your babe, Adam.”

“Babe.” If you were able to reach over and strangle him, you would’ve. That was probably the reason the coward used a hologram instead of coming here himself. “A guy like that couldn’t possibly please you the way I could.”

You massaged your nose bridge, pointedly ignoring the flicker of his eyes from your face to your chest, unable to maintain stable eye contact. “Can we just get on with the meeting?”

“You know I’m right, but I’ll let you off the hook for now.”

You groaned, slamming your head onto the table.

From years onward, his nerve only increased, but he had never shown his bloodlust to you before until the exorcist army descended from the heavens to wreak chaos and death upon the doorstep of Lucifer’s only child, Charlie. You and the ever-so-optimistic princess of Hell developed quite a soft spot for one another, which wasn’t difficult since you had already been considered family in centuries past. The title of your romantic relationship with her father initially came with questions and a couple of awkward moments, but it wouldn’t stop either of you from growing a deeper friendship and understanding, walking through the process together. And it definitely didn’t stop you from defending the girl you had seen for years as a pseudo-daughter, along with her noble ambitions.

“Charlie!” you yelled, knocking Adam away from her as he attempted to strangle her. Charlie sputtered, holding her throat with a pained cough, and you raised a steady hand to her back, helping her rise to her feet. You gave her a once-over, relieved to find that she had no substantial wounds besides a couple of cuts and bruises.

You sighed, cupping her rosy cheeks. “Thank goodness you’re alright. Sorry for being so late. Your father will be here any moment.”

Her formerly desolate expression quickly changed into a beaming smile, eyes glimmering with revitalized determination. “Good! We need all the help we can get.”

However, the moment was cut short by the overexaggerated breaths of a particular man, Adam wobbling to his feet as he cradled his bruised ribs, which you didn’t doubt had been cracked in the impact. It was hard not to smile as he struggled to stand, a wave of retribution twitching through your fingertips.

“You bitch,” he groaned between shallow gasps, though his voice drifted into a humorous lilt. “You know, I’m all for feisty women, but this shit’s a bit extreme, don’tcha think, babe?”

“I am not your babe, Adam.”

You cringed at the moan that left his lips, knowing it was not from the pain of his bruises. “God damn, I love it when you say my name.” He chuckled. “It’d be better if you screamed it.”

“You couldn’t have been that good if both your wives left you for someone else,” you muttered, swallowing your bodily urge to vomit as you rubbed the burgeoning headache coursing through your temples.

His expression drained of any warmth or humor, only leaving behind the rotted, sinful corpse of a man that he pretended not to be. “What the fuck did you say to me, bitch?”

“Hmmm,” you hummed, rolling your eyes. “Did I strike a nerve there?”

His mouth contorted into a snarl. “You know, the only reason that snake keeps your ass around is because he needs a couple of assets,” he barked, curving his hands to gesture toward your curves. “To distract him!”

“Hey! Don’t talk about him—”

He cut you off, his imposing figure towering over you. “You’re only a convenience. A pretty face and a hole to fuck.”

You gasped, but he didn’t let you speak, a smirk curling up on his disgusting face. “You don’t mean anything to him, hun,” he sneered, his voice sickeningly sweet as he grabbed your chin, craning your neck at a muscle-aching angle to stare into your eyes. “You had a chance at heaven, slut. A chance to be with me. And you fuckin’ blew it—!”

He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence, a bone-crunching punch tunneling into his face, his body cast off the hotel, which rocked under the aftershock, before it started to crumble like a deck of cards. With no time to waste, you and Charlie haphazardly jumped from shrapnel piece to shrapnel piece, able to land on the ground with barely a tumble as it collapsed into your foundation. The moment would’ve been devastating if your focus hadn’t been pinpointed elsewhere, the screams of a dying man drawing everyone to the impact pit.

“You have a lot of fuckin’ nerve,” a low voice scowled, sweltering steam blocking everyone’s vision away from the pair until it evaporated into the air, and that was when you spotted him. His voice was barely recognizable. The duplicated tones and whispers surrounding each word made him unidentifiable. But you knew who it was; those familiar sets of wings and the eyes of his tailcoat were clues enough. You hadn’t seen him take this form in decades, centuries even—he had no use for it, and to go to such an extreme was unlike him. He was shaking more than ever before; his fists balled up Adam’s collar as he pinned him to the ground.

“Intruding on my fuckin’ realm. Hurting my daughter.” And with each offense, another blow was added to the first man’s face, which looked more like roadkill than a former human with each malefaction. “Harassing and insulting my future wife!”

“Don’t you mean your little whore?” Adam managed to utter, that cocky tone still persistent. 

But that was a terrible mistake.

Lucifer did not respond to his comment, not at all. Instead, he paused, finding himself unprepared for the sheer audacity of the man underneath him, a man only clinging to life through recesses of holy power and spite. To the unsuspecting bystander, it would seem the king had calmed himself down, but instead, an inferno blazed between his fingertips, his form threatening to tear with the amount of heavenly light that he balanced on his palms. The ire of his many eyes looked upon Adam, and they saw to it that his judgment day had come early.

“Die.”

“Dad!”

Luck seemed to have Adam’s back as Charlie intervened, one of the few people who could ever draw her father out of such an irate warpath. However, it was only after a moment of contemplation from Lucifer, whose eyes stared at Adam, his face unreadable as his fingers twitched before he cracked a wicked smirk.

“How’s mercy feel, bitch?”

The next moments were a blur, though those eyes had turned towards you instead, not with the anger they had towards Adam, but of sheer contemplation—not that you paid attention to them, watching Adam’s death unfold in an ironically anti-climatic sort of way. You would’ve felt bad if your mind didn’t remedy the guilt in your gut with memories of your several encounters, most of which were not PG-13. The rest of the staff and residents gathered their bearings, joining to work on rebuilding the hotel, but you did not have the strength to. Instead, you took a moment for yourself, thoughts toiling through your head as they often did, not understanding the icky, nauseous feeling pooling at the bottom of your stomach.

You flinched at the brush of a hand that rested on your shoulder, only to find that it had been Lucifer, his brow furrowed in that same contemplative expression. And much like those times alone in the estate decades prior, a patient silence persisted as he sat next to you, gauging each touch as he pulled you closer, allowing your limp body to lean into his.

“You know none of what that asshole said is true, right?”

Is that what you had been so concerned about? You couldn’t tell. Your thoughts surrounding your relationship, especially in the context of his former love, had always been indecipherable, even to yourself. His question brought a small beam of clarity into the shadowed pits of your darkest thoughts, but it wasn’t the time to talk about it. Not now, at least.

“Yeah, I know.” Your voice was more shaken than you wanted it to come out, but he understood the underlying message. He could tell it wasn’t the truth, not entirely, and that the roots of your insecurities weren’t something to be remedied through a singular conversation. But it was a start. He intertwined your fingers, caressing the bare area of your ring finger.

“I wish you would’ve told me,” he spoke, his voice soft. “I would never have let you go to those meetings.”

You stayed staring out into the distance. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

However, he believed differently, tilting your chin as he cupped your face, much more loving compared to the hands that had grabbed you prior. And his eyes, ones that had been filled with hatred, now glinted in sharp concern. “But it is a big deal. That’s sexual harassment.”

“You were going through so much,” you replied. “It was just one additional thing I didn’t want you to deal with. Another burden on your back.”

“(Name),” he said, voice stern.

The gruffness of his uncompromising tone drew your eyes to your hands. “Any insult to you is an insult to me. Always has been, always will be. People don’t get to talk to you like that. It doesn’t matter what shit I’m going through. That doesn’t mean you get to be thrown under the bus.” He cracked a smile. “And anyone who even thinks of treating you less than the perfection you are deserves to be roasted alive. You’re not a burden. You’re priceless.”

“You’re really into those cannibalism metaphors recently,” you quipped, a bit of your reprieve and humor returning back. He laughed, his heart falling into ease, though he recognized the nod towards his disdain for a certain radio demon, his expression contorting in disgust.

“I’m not gonna eat him! Think of how gross that thing would taste. Just awful, bleh—!”

You cut him off with a kiss, making his rosy cheeks redden more. “Thanks, Lu.”

You tried to stand. His arm braced underneath your back, a hand brushing across the sensitive skin of your waist as he hovered above, his lips locked onto yours. You sighed into his mouth as his fingers mapped every beauty mark of your face, only for him to split, panting. His eyes shone with recognizable desperation, but the smirk on his lips told you he was prepped to tease, brushing the stray baby hairs out of your face that had been ruffled in the fray.

“If someone ever bothers you like that again, you tell me. Got it?”

You only sighed. “Lucifer, I can handle my—”

He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, mouth upturned in a cheeky grin at the way it cut you off. “It’s not smart to fight without your shield, now, is it?’

You relented, unable to withhold your bashful grin. “Of course.”

A silence persisted.

“Your future wife, hm?”

“…shit.”

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @little-miss-chaoss

© ɢᴜᴀᴄᴍᴏʟᴇʀᴏʟʟ 2024 — ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇᴅ

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅ #f!reader #starring: lucifer .ೃ࿐ #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #queued ═ ꒱ˎˊ˗

[lendeah]

Wounded Love

Summary: Astarion and Tav are both struggling with their emotions as they journey through the Shadowlands. When Astarion gets injured, Tav takes it upon herself to nurse him back to health, in more ways than one.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader.

Word Count: 5.3k

Tags: Astarion gets hurt, Emotional Constipation, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Massage, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Tav takes care of Astarion, sub!Atarion, Light Dom/sub, bordering minimal really, Porn With Plot, Biting, Blood.

a/n: this is an old draft, so forgive me if there are any typos! Love ya🤍

WARNING! +18 CONTENT, MINORS DNI

It had been a stray hex, a capricious twist of magic that had hurt him, as told by the doctor responsible for his care in the Last Light Inn. The tendrils of the hex had woven an intricate spell, rendering him unconscious. Right now, as his chest rises and falls rhythmically, you feel something like pain and protectiveness stir in your chest. Although you are aware that your connection is currently purely physical, you can't help but feel a flutter every time your eyes meet or a tightening in your chest whenever he faces danger.

Looking at his peaceful sleeping form, you reach out to touch his hair, keeping it out of the way of his eyes. Your fingers trace the contours of his face and down his jawline. You wonder what kind of dreams come to him in these tender moments. Dreams you would love to share. To know all the things that go through the elf's mind.

His eyes suddenly open, and you get slightly startled, your hand hanging mid-air.

"What are you doing?" He raises one judging eyebrow, and squints at you through his eyelashes, but doesn't move out of your touch. His lips are curled into a small, tight grimace, probably still in pain from his recent wound.

You reach for the mug of water near the bed. "You look so peaceful when you sleep. Maybe you should spend more time like that. I like you way more when you are quiet," you say, a teasing tone lacing your words.

Astarion rolls his eyes, but he's also smiling a little.

"Yeah? Well, if you're so keen on me sleeping why not do me a favor and knock me out? The pain is unbearable as of right now," he says, but his voice is still soft and quiet, almost as if talking is painful You know there is a bit of truth there. He takes the mug and gulps down the water, then sets the piece back down on the bedside table.

He does appear miserable, even though his beauty remains as striking as ever. His eyes, usually filled with energy and mirth, seem drained of life, carrying heavy bags underneath. Though he is already pale, right now he looks paler than ever, and even his distinctive white locks, typically immaculate, fall disheveled and unkempt over his shoulders.

Your chest tightens at the sight, a vivid flashback of watching him fall during the combat flooding your mind. One moment, he was bravely battling alongside Karlach and the next, he was sprawled on the ground, so unnaturally still that it hinted at something had gone fatally wrong. The memory of that moment lingers—the scream tearing from your throat, the frantic dash to reach him—where the world outside, the lurking shadow monsters, and your companions; all became a blur, drowned out by the overwhelming fear of losing him.

You release a shaky breath, and try to appear nonchalant "Well, I happened to leave my Warhammer outside, but if you give me a moment, we could arrange it," you say, a hint of playful sarcasm masking the genuine worry beneath.

Astarion snorts. "Please, I don't need the Warhammer. Just a firm slap should do it." He says while shifting on his bed.

The movement makes the bedsheets rustle and reveals the bandages encasing his torso. His chest had sustained the most damage, with a deep cut that refused to heal and oozed a dark, murky liquid.

"You were out for a tenday," you inform him. "A stray hex hit you during combat and left you out cold. The wound didn't close, even with your vampiric and elf powers, so it had to be taken care of manually."

"Well, that's just great." Astarion mutters. Then, he speaks up again, this time seemingly with some concern, "I'm alright, right? I'm not going to die? I mean, I know I can't die, but..."

You chuckle softly at his words, a mix of fondness and relief washing over you. "Not under my watch. I am an incredible healer, after all".

"And quite humble, at that," Astarion mutters, but there is a small smile on his face. Then, there is a beat of silence, as both of you take a moment to collect your thoughts.

Astarion's smile fades, and his eyes search yours for something, a reassurance perhaps. You can see the vulnerability hidden beneath his usual facade of confidence and charm. It's rare to see him like this, stripped of his usual bravado. Leaning closer, you reach out again to gently brush a strand of white hair behind his pointy ear.

"Hey," you say softly, placing your hand on his cheek. "You're going to be alright. We took care of your wounds, and Halsin says you just need some time to recover." You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you reach out and gently grasp his hand, intertwining your fingers. "You scared me, you know," you admit softly. "Seeing you fall like that... I thought I had lost you."

Astarion seems to freeze in place at that, as if he is unsure of how to react. You chuckle nervously, realizing you may have unintentionally crossed an unspoken boundary. Emotions are not your forte, after all. For a moment he simply stares at your intertwined hands. Then, he looks up to meet your gaze, and you see a flicker of some unreadable emotion there.

"Lost me? Come now, you should know by now it takes more than a measly hex to finish me off." His tone aims for nonchalance, but there is an edge to it that gives away his vulnerability. You offer a small, sheepish smile.

"Yes, well, you didn't die. So quit that moping and drink your water, or I'll let Shadowheart take a crack at healing you."

"From my point of view, this just means you just have to keep a closer eye on me from now on,"

You let out a small sigh and give him an exasperated look "I think I have done my fair share of caring for some time."

A look of realization crosses his face as if a puzzle piece has finally fallen into place. "Wait, did you stay here for the entire tenday?" he murmurs, his eyes widening with surprise and curiosity.

You clear your throat awkwardly "I mean, you were unconscious. Somebody had to keep guard, keep tabs on you, change your bandages..." you say, with a casual wave of your hand "Plus, I wanted to make sure you were alright. I'm not a complete monster."

But you are aware that it's not the whole truth. The real reason is that the thought of him lying in bed, wounded and vulnerable, causes a pain in your chest that you don't want to acknowledge.

Astarion's eyes widen slightly at your words, surprise mingling with something else. Gratitude, perhaps? It's hard to tell with him sometimes, but there's a softness in his gaze that tells you he appreciates your presence more than he lets on.

"Well, I suppose I should thank you then," he says, his voice softer than before. "I wouldn't have expected you to stick around."

You shrug nonchalantly "Had to make sure you didn't get yourself killed again," You reply teasingly, attempting to lighten the mood.

Astarion chuckles a sound that warms your chest. "Ah, so it was purely for selfish reasons then."

"Of course, can't have our token charming vampire biting the dust just yet"

Astarion rolls his eyes, a smile on his face "Charming vampire, am I? You really know just how to flatter someone."

"You're also our only rogue," you reply.

Astarion smiles. "So not only am I charming, but I'm essential too. Guess the group just couldn't do without me. Perhaps you should write me a thank you note instead."

You raise an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "Oh, don't worry. I'll be sure to draft up a heartfelt ode to your indispensability."

His smile widens, the playful back and forth easing the tension that lingered between you. It feels good to see him like this, even if he's still recovering from his injuries.

You've been through so much together, fighting against the darkness that threatens your world. And in those moments of battle and chaos, there's a strange comfort in he familiarity of this banter, with its playful jabs and sly remarks. You do this routine a hundred times, dancing around each other's feelings and skirting the edges of any true intimacy. And yet, it's still nice to pretend sometimes. Still nice to pretend there's nothing underneath all the playful words, that maybe this is all you need. But for once, when you are looking at him, you want to reach out to him. To tenderly kiss his forehead, rest your head on his strong shoulders, and be enveloped in his embrace and not just for physical pleasure. But you know better than to act on those desires. He has been so wounded in the past and it's not just the physical scars that linger. His past is a complicated web of pain, betrayal, and mistrust. You've seen the way his eyes darken when certain topics are brought up or how he flinches away from certain touches. So you will wait patiently until he opens up when he is ready, relishing in these small moments in the meantime.

"Well, charming vampire, it looks like I'll have to find some more enemies for you to sink your fangs into for breakfast," you say with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Astarion grins, a little wolfishly with his fangs on display, "Oh, I think I know just who to take my fangs to," he says, his eyes appraising your neck.

You feel a shiver run down your spine at the intensity of his gaze. You roll your eyes and smirk. "Oh please, Astarion. I'm not that easy to sink your fangs into."

He leans forward, with a wicked smile on his lips "Oh, is that so?" Astarion says smoothly. A twinkle of desire flashes in his red eyes as he speaks, which only ignites your own thirst. You feel your heartbeat quickening, breath hitching in your chest. "You want to put that to the test?" His voice is lower now, a bit of a growl starting to creep into his tone.

You can feel the bed's cool, smooth sheets against your skin as you lean forward, your chest brushing against Astarion's. The energy between your bodies feels like a tangible force, one that you can almost reach out and touch. His face is so close, his red eyes bright and mouth slightly open, showing off two sharp fangs that would terrify most people but only send shivers of anticipation down your spine. There's something primal in the way you're looking at each other, and you can't help but feel a familiar wave of excitement and fear wash over you. Astarion's eyes flicker to your lips for a moment. You are waiting, wanting him to make the first move, your breath shallow and quick.

"Well? Still think you can bite me that easily?" you quip, teasingly, although your heart is pounding so loud you are sure it's deafening for him.

A mischievous smirk plays on Astarion's lips, his red eyes sparkling with amusement. Despite his injury, he moves gracefully and with supernatural quickness, catching you off guard. In the blink of an eye, you are pinned to the bed beneath him. Your back sinks into the soft mattress as Astarion's weight presses down on your body. His left arm is pressing into the skin of your collarbones, as his other hand holds your wrists above your head. Every touch from him sends electric jolts through your body.

Astarion's breath is hot against your skin as he leans in closer, his lips grazing your ear. "Oh, I am more than capable of biting you," he whispers, his voice husky with desire. "I might even leave you with a few bruises," he adds, his voice an intimate rasp that sends shivers down your spine.

Your heart races at his words and the thought of what he could do to you, at the weight pressing down on you.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Astarion murmurs against your skin, his lips trailing down your neck and leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You let out a soft gasp as he nibbles on your skin, causing goosebumps to rise along your arms. His touch is electric and every nerve in your body feels like it's on fire. Without hesitation, Astarion's fangs sink into the soft flesh of your neck, and you let out a gasp as a mix of pleasure and sharp icy pain courses through you. You can feel yourself growing lightheaded as he feeds from you, his fangs sinking deeper and his grip on your wrists loosening as he savors the taste of your blood. The sensation sends waves of ecstasy coursing through your veins.

Time seems to stand still as you remain locked in his embrace, your bodies tangled together on the bed. As he finally withdraws his fangs from your neck, he lingers for a moment, his lips brushing against the wounds he's left behind. You can feel the slight throbbing where his teeth had punctured skin seconds ago. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you feel him press his forehead against yours, his breath fanning against your skin.

You giggle a little, still coming down from the high of vampire venom.

"I will never get tired of that," The words slipped from his lips in a breathy murmur, one that was filled with awe and contentment.

"All it takes is a little blood to make our wounded vampire happy," You tease, giving him a small peck. His lips still taste a bit metallic, but you don't care in the slightest.

Astarion chuckles, "Ah, darling, we both know I am not the only one who enjoys that…"

He presses his body against your own, his lips suddenly ravishing yours with an intensity that steals your breath. The heat of his mouth sears through you, igniting every nerve and sending primal shivers down your spine. You cling to him desperately, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer until your bodies meld into one and your hands tangle in the soft curls of his hair. At this moment, nothing else exists except for the electric chemistry between you, overwhelming and all-consuming.

Out of nowhere, he recoils and lets out a sharp hiss. Concerned, you examine the bandage on his chest and notice a small black spot forming. "Oh shit," you curse under your breath.

You quickly slide out from under him and stand next to the bed. "Lie down," you tell him firmly, "I'll take care of it."

"I'm okay," Astarion lies, but complies, lying down on the bed with a sense of resignation. The soft sheets crinkle beneath his weight as he settles into a comfortable position. You hurriedly gather supplies before returning to his side, adrenaline and concern fueling your actions. With skilled hands, you begin tending to his wound as Astarion watches on with curious eyes.

"If you keep ogling me like that, I may just end up with a hole in my head," you quip.

The corners of both your mouths turn up in matching grins. The intensity of your gaze locks and it feels like the air is alive with electricity. With precision and care, you unwrap the bandage and clean the wound, hands steady despite your worry. As you finish dressing the wound, you can't help letting out a sigh of relief after realizing it was just a small tear, nothing too serious.

It's then that you notice you have been straddling his body over the crisp white sheets of the hospital bed and your cheeks flush furiously.

Astarion looks at you with a cheeky smirk, "Something the matter, dear?" he asks, his voice low and sultry.

You can feel your face turning even brighter red, but you try to shrug it off. "No, nothing's wrong."

Astarion lets out a low laugh, enjoying your flustered state. "Oh, I beg to differ," he teases, sitting up and leaning against the headboard.

"Shut up," you mutter, trying to keep your embarrassment at bay.

Astarion chuckles softly, a warm sound that makes your heart flutter. Why does he always make your heart flutter?

"Well, I have seen you in way more compromised positions than the one you are in right now," he says, a hint of mischief in his tone. "You're not one to be shy."

You can't help but blush even more at his words. His hand starts caressing your thigh, and your breath hitches slightly.

"I must say," Astarion continues with a sly grin, "I've never had such skilled hands tending to me before."

You roll your eyes at his flirting. "Well, I have been trained in basic care since I was young," you reply with a smile playing on your lips.

He raises an eyebrow in surprise. "And how else are you planning on taking care of me, exactly? Because I remain deeply wounded." he says with a mock pout.

A mischievous smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth as you reply, "You'll just have to wait and see."

Meeting his intense gaze, you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. A sudden spark of inspiration ignites within you and you eagerly suggest, "How about a massage? I have been told I am really good at those."

He raises an eyebrow, "A massage, huh? It doesn't sound too bad."

A chuckle bubbles up from your chest and you swat him lightly on the shoulder. "Only 'not too bad'? I'll have you know, I'm excellent."

Astarion smirks, "Prove it then," he challenges, stretching back onto the bed, arms folded behind his head in a display of pure ease.

Squaring your shoulders in determination, you stand from the bed and walk to the other side of the room. You rummage through a drawer filled with various herbs and oils until you find what you're looking for - a small vial of calming lavender oil you had seen Halsin storing a few days ago. You just hope he won't miss it too much.

"You better not fall asleep on me," you call out teasingly as you make your way back towards him, shaking the vial in your hand for emphasis.

In response, Astarion chuckles lowly and flips onto his stomach without a word, waiting for your touch. The scent of lavender fills the room as you rub your hands together, warming up the oil before applying it to his skin.

As your hands start kneading into his tight shoulder muscles, he releases a sigh that is half groan, half purr. "Your touch is simply divine," he moans, his voice low and husky. "You really do possess a gift for caressing."

With a proud smile, you continue to massage his shoulders and neck, feeling the tension ease away. His eyes are closed, lost in the pleasure of the moment. Your heart swells with happiness to see him so content and relaxed.

You lower your hands slowly, massaging along the curve of his spine and drawing another low moan from him. The rhythm of your touch, the scent of lavender, and the quiet of the room come together to create a sense of calm and tranquility. You let your fingers brush against the edges of his scars, caressing them tenderly. Instead of flinching away, he leans into your touch, allowing you to continue your gentle exploration.

You continue to knead his muscles, working out any remaining knots and tension. And then, you lower your head and press a soft kiss to the bare skin of his shoulder, right above the bandage. Astarion lets out a surprised gasp at the unexpected touch of your lips. He turns his head slightly, his eyes opening to meet yours.

"Can't resist taking advantage, can you?" he teases with a small grin.

"I simply relish having you at my mercy for once," you whisper against his spine, taking in the sweet scent of lavender oil on his skin.

Astarion's lips curve into a playful smirk at your words. "Oh, do you now?" he asks in a husky voice, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You nod confidently, trailing light kisses down his spine and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "I always enjoy being in control," you reply, your tone laced with teasing.

He lets out a low chuckle, "And I always relish when you take charge," he purrs, his eyes closing in satisfaction.

With a last kiss, you gently pat his side.

"Now you turn for me."

Astarion eagerly flips onto his back, his eyes shining with anticipation. As you straddle him, you notice he has been affected by your previous ministrations, his hardness pressing against your core. A triumphant smile tugs at your lips. Astarion merely smirks up at you, not bothering to hide his interest.

"Seems like your skills extend beyond basic care," he teases, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

You choose to ignore his comment and instead focus on the task at hand. Pouring more lavender oil onto your hands, you begin to knead his pectoral muscles, applying firm and steady pressure, avoiding the bandage covering it. Your hands roam over his chest with practiced ease until they find their way to his abdomen. You glide your fingers over each taut muscle, taking delight in the way his body responds under your touch.

"Enjoying yourself?" Astarion teases with a smirk.

A warm rush of joy spreads through you as you trace your fingers along the curves of his navel, softly giggling. His hands instinctively tighten around your hips, a desperate attempt to regain some control of the situation. A sly, self-satisfied smirk spreads across your lips as you slowly slip your hand lower down, teasing the sensitive skin just beneath the waistband of his trousers, towards the source of his growing excitement.

His breath hitches at your touch, his eyes now wide with surprise. "Oh, I see what's happening here," he says, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "You're getting into this caretaker role, aren't you?"

Your smirk deepens as you gently massage his hips, ignoring the suggestive implications of his words.

"I did say I'd take good care of you, didn't I?" you reply nonchalantly, as I continue with my performance.

Astarion lets out a soft chuckle and reaches up to cup your cheek affectionately.

"You certainly did," he murmurs, gazing up at you in admiration. "But what about you? Who takes care of you, dear?" he mumbles.

Your heart fills with sadness, at the thought of him only thinking of sex as an exchange, more than a pleasurable thing. You lean in to press a soft kiss into his neck, feeling his skin cold under your touch.

"Just trust me," you whisper, voice low and sultry, "I want to make you feel good." His breath hitches again, and you can feel him growing harder beneath your touch. "Trust me," you repeat softly.

You press your lips against his, softly at first, then deeper as he responds with equal fervor. Your hand swiftly opens his trousers, digging inside to grab his hardness, and starts a rhythmic movement, gliding up and down the full length of his member. As it reaches the tip, you twist your wrist slightly, eliciting a whine from deep within his chest. It's a sound you've never heard from him before, one that sends shivers down your and makes your core throb.

His body tenses beneath you, the feeling of your hand wrapped around him drawing a low curse from his lips. He arches into your touch, his grip on your hips tightening as he struggles to remain composed. He presses his lips against yours, the kiss becoming more fervent and demanding. His hands grip your hips tightly, pulling you closer to him, as if he can't get enough.

"Easy," you coo softly against his ear, an intimate tone wrapped around the single word as if it were a promise. Astarion's hands flex on your hips repeatedly, fingers digging into your flesh in a bid to ground himself. "Let me take good care of you," you assure him again, your voice low and breathy against his skin. His body tenses under your touch as he lets out a groan.

His breaths come in ragged gasps, punctuated by small moans of pleasure. "Faster," he pleads with a desperation that ignites a fire within you.

"My beautiful baby, so good for me," you murmur into his ear, your voice rough with desire and adoration. Without hesitation, you bring the pointed tip of his ear between your lips, savoring the delicate contours as you run your tongue along its edges. His body shudders in response, a high whine escaping from his throat as he gives in to your touch.

"Oh, sweet hells," he breathes, his voice barely a whisper.

You release his ear and lay back to take a good look at him, and you smile to yourself when you see his disveleshed hair, and red eyes hooded. And then, without hesitation, you sink down between his parted legs as your lips part and encircle his throbbing member. The taste of him fills your mouth, a mixture of salt and skin and something uniquely his. You take him fully into your mouth, relishing the sounds of his moans and gasps as you move your lips up and down his length. You swirl your tongue around him, teasing and coaxing every delicious sensation from him. His hips thrust upward, and his hands grip your hair, pulling you closer, but you resist, teasing him with your tongue. Your own body is humming with need and desire, but you push it aside to focus completely on him.

You slowly remove him from your mouth, teasingly drawing out the moment. "Beg for me," you whisper seductively, reveling in the power you hold over him.

Astarion's breath hitches as you pull away, and he meets your eyes with a mix of surprise and desire. He moans a deep, guttural sound that vibrates through you, and his hips buck upward, thrusting into the air. His hardness stands tall and proud against your palm, straining for release. It’s slick with your spit, and with a reddish hue that reveals his recent feeding. So damn beautiful.

"Please," he pleads "Please, please," he tries to repeat, but his words come out in a garbled, unintelligible moan as you take him deep into your throat and swallow hard, feeling his member pulse and throb slightly in your mouth.

His entire body trembles, his breaths quickening to the point where they are almost non-existent. His hands clamp onto your hair, yanking you towards him with a savage strength as he thrusts relentlessly, pushing himself deeper and deeper inside of you until it feels like he might tear you apart.

"Oh gods," he cries, arching his back and groaning in a way that makes you want to keep going. "That's so good, hells."

His words only drive you further, and you begin to pick up the pace, slobbering and sucking on him like a starving man to a feast. His body tenses as his release approaches, and you can feel him pulsing in your mouth.

"Please, please, oh my god" His words are now a jumbled mess, spewing out of his mouth in a frenzied stream. His eyes roll back into his head, a sign that he is close to releasing everything he has been holding in. "I can't... I can't take much more," he whispers hoarsely, "Please, please, let me cum. Fuck, I need to cum."

With this plea, you can feel the surge of his release, and your body responds with an exhilaration that threatens to overwhelm you. You can feel your body responding to his, your own arousal growing, and you rub yourself through your clothes, imagining the feel of him inside you. But that can wait - right now he needs you to take care of him. It's clear he's getting close now - his breaths are shallow, his moans low and desperate, his hips thrusting upwards in short, sharp jerks. With a final cry, you feel him tense, his entire body convulsing under your touch. You swallow hard, feeling the hot liquid spurt into your mouth, coating your tongue and throat in his essence. You can't help but groan in pleasure as it fills you, and you continue to suck and slurp, greedily devouring every drop he has to offer. His hips thrust upwards, bucking wildly as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him. You continue to suck and stroke him, milking every last drop from his throbbing length.

Finally, he goes lax, his body slack and exhausted while his breath comes in ragged gasps. You gently remove his now limp member from your mouth, wiping the remnants of him from the corners with your thumb. As he comes down from his high, his body relaxes onto the pillow, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. You lay next to him, your heart filled with a sense of contentment and satisfaction. You trace patterns on his chest with your fingertips, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths as he continues to recover from his release.

A spark ignites in his eyes as they lock onto yours, and for the first time, you see a glimmer of something. There is a tenderness and adoration in his gaze as if you are the most precious and captivating being in all of Faerûn. You smile and sprawl over his healthy shoulder, looking up at him.

"And here I thought I was the master at lovemaking," he teases. "Ever so surprising, my dear."

"Oh, you're easy to please, my love. But I do admit, you taste absolutely divine." You giggle and place a soft kiss on his lips.

He chuckles deeply, running his fingers through your hair. A moment of silence passes between you before you find the courage to break it with a quiet question, "Did you truly enjoy it?"

Conversation after sex is rare for you, but something about today feels different, almost intimate. Like something has shifted, an unspoken understanding or connection.

There is a pause, and Astarion looks at you, seeming a bit awkward. He appears to be having some sort of internal struggle at the moment. But then, he relaxes a bit and nods his head.

"Yes, I did," he says. He smiles at you. "It was... mediocre. Which is quite good for your usual performance"

You raise an eyebrow in mock offense. "Excuse me? You were practically begging me to cum moments ago!"

"Was that begging?" he asks innocently, "I thought I was just doing a demonstration" His eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked at you, his lips curling up into a smirk.

"Oh, really?" You raise an eyebrow playfully. "Well, you sure seemed to be enjoying it"

Astarion chuckled lightly, running his fingers through your hair. "I suppose I did, you know me, I can't resist a good show. And in case you're wondering, that was definitely begging. You just have a unique way of making me forget my manners."

You snuggle closer to him, basking in the softness of his skin. "I'm glad I can keep things interesting for you."

And then, to your surprise, he silently embraces you in a warm hug, pulling you close to his chest. The feeling of his strong arms encircling your frame is unfamiliar but comforting at the same time. You have never held each other in such an intimate way before, but in this moment it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

As the two of you lay intertwined and content, you can feel a sense of peace wash over both of you. For once, no worries or fears are clouding your minds - just the simple pleasure of being together in this moment. You close your eyes and let out a satisfied sigh, wondering if this newfound closeness is a sign of things to come, and the thought brings a smile to your lips, before drifting off into a peaceful sleep wrapped in each other's embrace.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #baldurs gate fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #astarion baldurs gate #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader

[jane-alma]

Writing advice for new writers

Some things that I wished I had been told when I started writing <3

1. Read, read, read:

Immerse yourself in the works of established authors across various genres. Reading not only exposes you to different writing styles and techniques but also helps you understand the fundamentals of storytelling. It broadens your vocabulary, sparks your imagination, and inspires your own writing.

2. Write regularly:

Make writing a habit. Set aside dedicated time each day or week to write, even if it's just for a short period. Consistency is key to improving your skills and developing your unique voice. Practice, experiment, and don't be afraid to make mistakes – it's all part of the learning process.

3. Embrace the editing process:

Writing is rewriting. Understand that your first draft is just the beginning. Editing and revising are crucial steps that transform your work into its best version. Be open to constructive feedback, whether from friends, writing groups, or professionals. Embrace the opportunity to refine your ideas, strengthen your prose, and polish your storytelling.

4. Find your writing environment:

Discover the environment in which you feel most comfortable and creative. Experiment with different settings, and create a space that inspires and motivates you to write. Surround yourself with objects, images, or music that enhance your creativity.

5. Explore different genres and styles:

Don't limit yourself to a single genre or writing style. Experiment with different forms of writing – from short stories to poetry, fiction to non-fiction. Trying new genres and styles challenges you as a writer, expands your skills. I also find this really helpful If I feel stuck in a project. Whenever I feel really stuck, I like to open a new document, or even get a pen and some paper and just write something completely different. It might just be a silly little poem, or maybe I’ll just write down what I’ve been doing that day. Just something to get out of my head, and then I can get back to my project with a clearer mind.

6. Write what you love:

Write about topics that genuinely interest and excite you. When you're passionate about your subject matter, your enthusiasm will shine through in your writing. Whether it's fantasy, romance, history, or science fiction, let your love for the topic fuel your creativity and captivate your readers.

7. Trust your voice:

Each writer has a unique voice, perspective, and story to tell. Embrace your individuality and trust your instincts. Don't compare yourself to others or try to imitate someone else's style. Your voice is what sets you apart and makes your writing authentic.

8. Enjoy the process:

Above all, enjoy the process of writing. Writing is a creative outlet, a form of self-expression, and a journey of self-discovery. Embrace the ups and downs, the challenges and triumphs, and savor the joy of bringing your ideas to life through words.

And most importantly of all: Remember, every writer starts somewhere, and like any other craft, it takes time, practice and dedication. Happy writing y’all! <3

#jane’s writing advice #writerscommunity #writing #writers on tumblr #writing advice #writing tips #authors of tumblr #writer things #writeblr #new writers on tumblr #writblr #writers and poets #light academia #dark academia #bookish #books #fanfiction #poetry #fiction #young writer #young writers #young author #writer #writers

[grandprixwinnerlandonorris]

Hello darling I have Lando x fem!reader’s request✨🥹

Sooo I HAVE THIS “You must need to be fast on track, but you can’t get me so fast” ON MY MIND

So the reader and Lando are pretty close and very touchy, she works for McLaren, maybe as a lawyer idk; so they spent some time together, especially in UK, but she always goes to Monaco. ANYWAY during a party (maybe after one of his podium) he gets very close to her, always a hand on her back, and at some he trying to express his feelings for her, idk he would do something very clingy soo she stopped him and said *that*.

So that night they come back together to his hotel room, kissing each other, but they finished cuddling. Because he wants to do the things seriously.

I'M BAAAACK!!! Don't know for how long tho, I had this sitting in my drafts for two weeks and felt like editing while Lando's stream played in the background. I thought I'd get so much more writing done once the winter break begins, but it looks like apparently I'm on a break too cause no matter how much I want to get things done, my brain is just like nope keep watching that show until the guilt of all the requests eats you away. So, my apologies to this anon for waiting for months and all the others that have sent requests, I'm not ignoring you, I'm just going through some difficult time currently, but hopefully it will get better soon. Not really satisfied with this, if I'm being honest, but really liked the idea which required a lot of research and banging my head against the wall to make it all work and fit, and really wanted to get it done. So I hope you enjoy! :) ♥

Trackside Temptations | Lando Norris⁴

The atmosphere in Silverstone was electric during the peak of racing season, filled with the aroma of success and bubbly champagne. Lando Norris, rising star in the world of Formula One, had just secured a spot on the podium, his heartbeat echoing in sync with the joyful cheers of the crowd, and was eager to join his team at the luxurious after party to celebrate their victory.

Navigating through the throngs of people, Lando couldn't ignore the rush of excitement mingled with a hint of anxiety. Though he prided himself on his unwavering confidence and determination behind the wheel, there was one individual in the room who could effortlessly rattle him – y/n, a sharp-witted lawyer whose support had been vital to Lando's success in his career.

As Lando made his way over to you, he couldn't help but feel the butterflies in his stomach begin to flutter. He had always admired you from afar, but tonight, he was determined to make a move.

You were dressed in a stunning red dress, your hair cascading in loose waves around your shoulders. You looked up as he approached, and he couldn't help but feel a jolt of electricity shoot through his body at the sight of your eyes.

"Congratulations, Lando!" you said, opening your arms for a hug. "You were incredible out there today."

Lando felt his heart skip a beat as he pulled you into a tight embrace, inhaling the intoxicating scent of your perfume and feeling the softness of your body pressed against his.

"Thanks, y/n," he said. "I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you for always being there for me." he pulled back, his hands lingering on your arms.

"Of course, Lando. It's been an honor to support you through this journey." your voice was warm and sincere, and your smile reached your eyes, making them crinkle at the corners.

"Come on, let's join the others," Lando said, gesturing towards the rest of your team who were celebrating nearby.

You smiled and took Lando's hand, feeling a thrill run through your body at the touch of his skin against yours. As you made your way over to the group, Lando kept his hand firmly in yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a silent show of possession.

The British Grand Prix after party was in full swing, and amidst the cacophony of laughter and clinking glasses, Lando and you found yourselves standing by a makeshift stage, watching your colleagues perform an impromptu karaoke session. The sight of your usually serious team members belting out pop classics with reckless abandon brought a smile to both your faces.

"Never thought I'd see the day when our chief engineer would sing Spice Girls," you remarked, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Neither did I," Lando replied, chuckling. "I bet they'll never live this down."

As you shared a laugh, Lando felt grateful for the easy camaraderie he had with you. You could always find something to laugh about, even in the most stressful situations. It was a testament to the trust you had built over the years, and it only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.

"Seriously though, y/n," Lando said, his tone shifting to one of sincerity. "I just wanted to extend my gratitude again for everything you've done for me. You've been a true ally, both on and off the track."

Your cheeks flushed slightly at the heartfelt praise, but you brushed it off with a playful grin. "Well, someone has to keep you in line, Lando. You're lucky I'm so good at it."

"Indeed, I am," Lando agreed, smiling warmly. "But truly, your guidance and support have made all the difference in my career. I can't imagine where I'd be without you."

"Probably still driving go-karts," you teased, eliciting another laugh from Lando. Despite your jest, you appreciated the sentiment behind his words. Your bond was special, and it wasn't something either of you took for granted.

"Hey, don't knock go-karts," Lando retorted, feigning offense. "They're where it all began, after all."

"True," you conceded, your smile softening. "But we both know you were destined for much greater things, Lando. And I'm proud to have been a part of your journey."

"Thank you, y/n," Lando said, his voice warm and sincere. "Here's to many more victories together."

"Cheers to that," you replied, clinking your glass against his.

As the night progressed and the party continued, Lando found himself drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Every time you laughed, his heart skipped a beat. Every time you touched him, he felt a jolt of electricity course through his veins.

The music pulsed through the air, a rhythmic heartbeat that fueled the euphoria rippling through the crowd. McLaren team members and fellow racers moved with infectious energy, their laughter and conversation melding into an intoxicating symphony. Amidst it all, Lando and you swayed in unison to the beat, your eyes locked and smiles mirroring each other's elation.

"Hey, champ," called out a familiar voice, momentarily tearing Lando's gaze away from you. It was Carlos Sainz, a fellow racer and close friend, passing by with a wide grin. "Fantastic race today! You really showed them who's boss."

"Thanks, Carlos," Lando replied, his chest swelling with pride. "Couldn't have done it without everyone's support."

"Especially mine, right?" you chimed in playfully, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Of course!" Carlos exclaimed, laughing. "You're the true mastermind behind this achievement!"

As Carlos continued on, Lando gave you a knowing look, warmth radiating between you. You both knew the truth in the jest – that you had been instrumental in bringing him to this point.

"Shall we dance?" Lando asked, extending his hand with a cheeky grin. You nodded, accepting the invitation as you danced like no one was watching. The room around you seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you amidst the swirl of colors and sounds.

You found yourselves gravitating towards each other, your bodies moving in perfect sync as you danced to the pulsing beat of the music. Lando couldn't help but feel a sense of awe as he watched you move. There was something about the way you moved – confident and sensual, yet somehow innocent at the same time – that made his heart race.

"I can't believe I'm dancing with you," he said, his voice low and intimate.

"Why not?" you replied, your smile teasing. "I'm just a lawyer, remember?"

He shook his head, his eyes darkening. "You're so much more than that, y/n. You're the reason I'm here, the reason I'm successful. You're the one who's always had my back, even when things were tough."

"And you're the reason I have a job," you teased, but there was a flicker of something more serious in your eyes. "You've made my work here worthwhile, Lando. You've given me purpose."

Lando's eyes searched yours, and he saw the truth in them. You weren't just colleagues or friends – there was something deeper between you both, something that had been simmering beneath the surface for years.

"Congratulations again, Lando," murmured a team member as he passed, patting him on the back and interrupting the moment between you. "You've made us all proud."

"Seriously, man, you were on fire today!" another added, clapping Lando's shoulder enthusiastically.

"Thank you, guys," Lando responded, his voice filled with gratitude. As he looked at you, he couldn't help but feel that part of it belonged to you as well.

"Can I just say," you began, your voice barely audible over the thumping music, leaning in and resting your arms on his shoulders "how incredibly proud I am of you?"

Lando's eyes flickered with a hint of surprise and pleasure, his heart racing as he gazed into your eyes. The dim lighting of the party accentuated the curve of your lips and the sparkle in your eyes, making him feel like he was gazing upon a work of art.

"Thank you, y/n," he said, his voice hoarse.

Your eyes met his, and in that moment, Lando knew that he had to have you. He didn't care about the risks or the consequences – he needed you more than anything.

The attraction between the two of you had always been undeniable, but up until now, Lando had resisted the urge to act on it. He had been so focused on his career and his goals that he had never allowed himself to explore the possibility of something more with you.

But as the night wore on and the champagne flowed freely, Lando found his resolve slipping. When he saw you dancing with one of the other drivers, a pang of jealousy burned in his chest. He wanted to be the one holding you close, he wanted to be the one making you laugh, he wanted to be the one kissing you senseless.

Without thinking, he made his way towards you, his heart racing with anticipation. As soon as he was close enough, he slid his arm around your waist and pulled you near, swaying in time with the music.

"Come with me," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

Your eyes widened, but you didn't protest. You simply followed him as he led you away from the crowded dance floor and onto the terrace.

Once outside, Lando pulled you closer to him, letting his fingers caress your cheek as he looked into your eyes. His expression was a mixture of emotion - desire, longing and something more that neither of you could put into words.

"Remember when we first met?" Lando asked, his gaze fixed on you. "I was just some rookie driver signing a contract, and you were this intimidating lawyer."

You chuckled, recalling the memory fondly. "You've come a long way since then."

"And so have you," Lando replied, glancing over at you. "Your legal support has been invaluable, you know," Lando continued, his voice filled with gratitude. "All those contracts and negotiations... I couldn't do it without you."

"Hey, that's what I'm here for," you responded, a hint of pride in your tone. As a top-notch lawyer, you had played a significant role in helping Lando navigate the world of Formula One. From ironing out sponsorship deals to ensuring his rights were protected, you had been a force to be reckoned with.

"Sometimes I think about how different things would be if we hadn't crossed paths," Lando mused, his thoughts drifting. "I'm grateful every day that I have you by my side, both professionally and personally."

"Me too," you agreed, your gaze softening. You reached out, gently squeezing his hand in a show of solidarity. "We make a great team, Lando. But you didn't bring me out here to talk about contracts and negotiations," you said, your voice low and sultry as you leaned in closer to him. "What did you bring me out here for, Lando?"

Lando's breath hitched as he felt your hot breath against his neck. "No," he admitted. "I was... I just... I saw you dancing with George and I just couldn't stand there and watch any longer."

You grinned, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over you. You had known for a long time that Lando had harbored feelings for you, but you had never expected him to act on them so boldly. "Is that so?"

Lando nodded, his eyes darkening with desire as he reached up to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face. "I want you, y/n," he said, his voice low and intimate. "I've wanted you for a long time, but I've been too scared to say anything. But tonight... I just can't resist anymore."

Your heart was pounding so hard you could feel it in your chest. You had never seen Lando like this before. The way his eyes bore into yours, the way his breath mingled with yours, it was all so intense. And you wanted him too, more than anything.

Without another word, Lando cupped your face with his hands and lowered his lips to yours. The kiss was soft and gentle at first, but it quickly escalated. His tongue swept into your mouth, exploring every inch, and you moaned into the kiss.

The terrace was dimly lit, but it felt like you were the only two people in the world. Lando's hands roamed over your body, pulling you close as he deepened the kiss. You could feel him pressing against you, and you couldn't help but grind against him.

"Lando," you gasped when the kiss finally broke, your lips swollen from the heat of it.

"Come back to my room with me," he murmured against your lips as he nipped at them. "I want to show you how much I appreciate everything you've done for me."

"Woah there, champ," you said, pulling back slightly. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's take this slow."

"How slow?" Lando asked, his voice a bit impatient.

"I know you're used to fast things," you said, a coy smile playing on your lips, "and you must need to be fast on track, but you can't get me so fast."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." Lando began, your words slapping him back to reality.

"I'm just teasing," you said, placing a finger on his lips to silence him. "I know you didn't. And I'm not ready for that either, yet. But I want you to know I feel the same way about us." you whispered, tiptoeing to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "I just want to take this slow."

"I know, y/n," Lando replied, his voice deep and rumbly. "I want to take it slow too."

"Alright," you said  finally. "Let's go back inside. We can head back to your room after everyone goes home..."

Lando's grin widened. "Are you sure you don't want to go now? It's pretty late."

"I'd love to," you said, titling your head and looking up at him through your eyelashes. "But I want to give everyone a chance to congratulate you first." You giggled, looping your arm around his. "Then we can go back to your place and... celebrate."

"I like the sound of that," Lando said, pulling you in close and placing a lingering kiss against your lips. "Come on," Lando said, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the heart of the festivities.

You allowed yourself to be swept up in the excitement, unable to suppress the grin spreading across your face. As you weaved through the jubilant crowd, the warmth of Lando's hand in yours was like an anchor, keeping you grounded amidst the whirlwind of sensations.

"Oi! Norris!" a voice called out, cutting through the noise. "That was some race you had today! You've got to teach me your tricks!"

"Maybe next time, mate," Lando laughed, giving the fellow racer a friendly pat on the back before continuing on.

"Hey, y/n," another voice chimed in, one of your colleagues from the McLaren team. "You're doing a fantastic job with all the legal stuff. Keep it up!"

"Thanks," you replied, a blush creeping up her neck. "I'm just doing my part for the team."

As you reached the center of the celebration, Lando pulled you into a spontaneous twirl, eliciting a delighted giggle from you.

"Are you having fun?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Definitely!" you felt a warmth spreading through your chest. That moment, the joy of victory and the intoxicating atmosphere, was something you knew you'd cherish forever.

"Good," Lando said softly, his gaze never leaving her eyes. "You deserve it, y/n."

Finally, everyone said their goodbyes and the two of you were left alone in the open air. The night sky was alight with stars, and the city below twinkled in the distance. Without a word, the two of you made your way to Lando's hotel room. He opened the door and stepped inside, pulling you with him. As soon as he closed the door, his hands were around your waist and he pulled you into a tight embrace.

You both sank down onto his bed without breaking contact. Lando enveloped you in his arms as he kissed your neck and shoulders hungrily. You felt so safe in his embrace, as if nothing else mattered in that moment but him holding you close. The intensity of it all was overwhelming, but comforting at the same time.

"Can you believe it?" Lando asked, his breath hot on your skin. "All those years, all that work, and here we are."

You looked up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "It's been quite a journey, hasn't it?"

"Definitely," Lando agreed, his eyes reflecting the pride he felt.

The two of you entwined in each other's arms until the early morning hours, savoring every moment together. His kisses sent shivers down your spine and his hands explored every inch of your body hungrily. Every touch was tender but passionate, as if he wanted to show you how much he cared for you. He cuddled up against you, whispering sweet words of affection into your ear.

It was clear that Lando wanted more than just physical pleasure from this encounter, and you felt the same way about him. You both wanted something real and lasting--something that went beyond the heat of the moment.

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