#<- i am filled with longing and yearning for reasons i do Not understand

[scuderia-eunoia]

✰ remember the letters | KA12

starring: kimi antonelli x reader (blurb) in which: you see your past looking at you in the crowd. pushed on by regret, melancholy, or everything unsaid, you approach him. wc: 0.5k words includes: angst, exes, implied miscommunication, breakups. english is not my first language! warnings: none notes: no one cares but its my first day today!! and this is kind of a self-indulgent vent thing bc i was scared of running into my ex today, so i wrote about what it would be like. kinda. its really short and really bad (i think) so um. enjoy (?)

It’s almost cinematic, the way he spots you through the crowd. You lock eyes almost instantly as if you were always made to find each other. Even in the chaos of the students shuffling all around you, the cacophony of questions and confusion slowly eating the both of you whole— you navigated through it all and walked toward him.

He did, too. Like some rift had opened up in your distance, and it was leading him straight to you. Two completely different people, torn apart by their own choices, make the decision to find their way back to one another again.

You still remember the letters. All the nights you spent reading dried ink on paper, trying to understand the meaning and weight of the written words. It was pain in cursive, months of yearning just sitting in between your fingers.

Hey, This is my 32nd letter to you. It’s July 23 today, Tuesday. Your favorite bakery is pretty busy, and I don’t know why; I think they started selling those cookies that you liked again. If this was several months ago, I’d have offered to buy you some. But since it’s the present... I don’t think I have the right to do that anymore, do I? It’s been 11 months. You could practically say that it’s been an entire year at this point. But I still miss you. I still think about you, whenever I look at something, or pass by a place we used to go to... Even now, I still find parts of you in my room, if I dig deep enough. I don’t want to call them leftovers. To me, these lingering memories of you... they’re here for a reason. And I know that sounds stupid, because you’re probably never going to return— but even if that were the case, I think that these things are more than just pieces of you that you forgot to take back. You didn’t leave them here. You gave them to me, and made them a part of who I am. Just like how you gave color to my life— even if you left, these shades were never meant to be erased. I don’t want to sound like some poet— that’s your thing. All I’m trying to say is that I miss you. I really do. Milan isn’t the same as it used to be without you. Today was the first time I was able to visit your favorite bakery— that’s how I found out about the cookies. I’ve been avoiding it because I thought that maybe you were avoiding me, and that if I just didn’t show up for a while, you’d turn up eventually. But that clearly wasn’t the case. I’m running out of guesses on where you are, or what you’re doing. Whatever it is, I hope you’re okay. Kimi

You’re not sure when the crowd had eventually dispersed, and that you were actually looking up at him now.

His eyes held an expression you couldn’t quite describe with just one word; it was filled melancholy, happiness, and a kind of longing that you’ve never seen before. The past year changed him, you realized, and he was different.

In a lot of ways, he was the same. But the biggest difference was that he wasn’t yours anymore.

[alwayscorvus]

Hello, can I request Brant from Wuwa who had an argument with male!reader and the reader kinda give him space by avoiding Distancing himself from Brant.

When they both cooled down٫ reader is getting hit on by some lady and Brant swoops in and tells her that's his man :)

Jealousy and yearning

malereader x Brant, fluff; love this! couldn't wait to write this. thanks 4 the request! when I read it, it sounds different than usual, but let's see if you can enjoy it Fck I should focus on the scene that people ask me to do and not make long openings... But I can'ttt

-You always take it out on me!

-I’m just worried about you

-You question my decisions! - Brant threw his hands up in frustration.

-I just think that it’s not the best idea for you to go there. Especially alone -you tried calmly. Though his sharp voice, definitely contrasting with your softer, more composed one, was starting to get on your nerves.

-I won’t be alone!

Not good. As if you were talking to a wall...

-Yeah, you’ll be with some guy you just met

Brant put his hands on his hips, turned his head towards you, and gave you a look filled with something between contempt and boredom.

-Oh please, don’t be jealous

Jealous? You? Was he even serious?

You were probably starting to get angry.

-Don't be silly, i'm not jealous, i just-

-What?! Maybe you want to be a captain yourself?!

He didn’t even let you finish. Only yelled like a madman.

-You know that’s not what I mean -you said, trying hard to keep your voice calm and measured.

You wanted to act mature. Responsible.

You wanted him to understand your point of view. To realize that you didn’t mean any harm.

-But on the other hand, you don’t accept that I am the captain! You knew what you were getting into when you started to go out with me!

Andddd-... that's it.

Your patience has just run out.

-And that's the only reason why I should let you put yourself in danger now!?

You couldn't stand it. Where did your Brant go? Who were you actually just arguing with?

-I was never afraid of risk. If you didn't like it then there was no need to ask me out!

You replied to the loud shouting with visible irony:

-Oh, im so sorry that I fell in love with you

-Yeah! You should be!

...

Ouch.

That hurt.

What was that actually supposed to mean? It didn't make any sense at all. Like the whole argument.

Again, another quarrel. You were young, naive. Full of lively emotions. You often happened to exchange opinions. This stirred up the atmosphere a bit, woken up passion. Sometimes such exchanges were just healthy. You were able to get to know each other's perspectives. Come to some sort of agreement-

But not at this point. Today you crossed some boundaries. Neither of you wanted to compromise. Neither of you wanted to understand the other. Only to make his own stand.

You hated when Brant put himself at risk. When he gambled his life. You couldn't bear to see wounds on his body. To endure his groans of a pain. The thought that you could lose him pierced your heart.

And he didn't understand your fears. He grew up alone. He always knew how to manage himself, how to get out of any trouble. How to survive. He was strong, resourceful. He knew how to take care of himself, without anyone's help. Eventually, from nothing, he became the captain of a great ship. He was capable of a lot.

But sometimes he just forgot that now he didn't have to do it all by himself anymore. That he had you. Someone who wanted to take care of him.

He couldn't understand that your fear didn't come from a doubt in his abilities, but from pure love and a desire to help.

But his words… he certainly didn't mean it. He was surely throwing out random thoughts in emotion. He just wanted to annoy you. To win an argument. And at the same time he wanted for it to hurt.

You couldn't bare it. You didn't want to hear it. You didn't need any more insults.

You also didn't want Brant to go too far. For him to regret later. He would scold himself after and walk around with scolded face.

Despite all the hate and anger you just felt, you loved him so much. You cared about him an his well-being. You had a soft spot for him.

That's why you made the only responsible decision at that moment.

You got up and left.

With a slight slamming of the door.

Despite everything, you were angry. And a hint of immaturity told you to assert your “dominance”. At that moment it didn't sound as silly as it did in the next day.

On the way out you made another decision. That you would give him some space. To let him cool off a bit.

… And also to let it hurt a little.

And that's how your whole morning passed.

And noon…

And afternoon…

And then, the evening came. A tough evening.

It didn't take much for Brant to miss you. He was practically inseparable. You did everything together. And thanks to the fact that you were his right hand on the ship, you weren't even separated by work. While he was behind the wheel, you were studying maps right next to him, consulting with him about next destination of your voyages.

While you were delegating tasks to young sailors, he was watching you with curiosity, sitting cross-legged on a large wooden barrel.

While he was negotiating deals with some suspicious visitors, you always stood beside him, sending them a threatening look as a warning.

Together you checked out new merchandise. Together you went on escapades in new territory. Together you fought and together you spent all your free time.

It's almost surprising, that Brant himself wanted to go on a mission without you. After all, whenever he returned from such tasks, he fell tearfully into your arms and swore that he would never leave you again, because he misses you too much.

Or rather, he made you promise to never to leave him. He felt so helpless without you…

But you guess that history liked to repeat itself.

Brant liked to break off the leash sometimes, driven by sudden emotions. However, he was quickly caught by the abandoned puppy syndrome.

Exactly as in this case.

He didn't notice it at first. The fact that he was eating breakfast alone. The fact that no one was answering crew's stupid questions for him. The fact that no one followed him like a second shadow.

He completely forgot about you.

In the afternoon, however, things began to change.

Something stopped to fit right. Whole situation became suspicious. It was as if something had messed up his routine.

Standing alone on the dock, he didn't know who to smile at. Eating lunch, he had no one to ask for salt. Looking through papers in the office, he had no one to ask for a magnifying glass.

Same goes with performing. In rehearsal, he felt no joy in playing. As if the most important person in the audience was missing and thus the whole point. He didn't feel that piercing gaze following his every move. He didn't hear whistles or applause of satisfaction. Warm words after a good performance or a few longed-for remarks, necessary to improvement in the future.

He began to wonder. He furrowed his brow, walked absent around the ship and bumped into random people. Generously apologizing afterwards.

Some of his comrades asked what happened, if everything was okay. And he just waved his hand at them. They even began to wonder where you were, they wanted to ask for your help. They knew that only you could bring Brant back to normal. However, after meeting you and seeing your firm stare, they didn't even dare to ask. They turned quickly on their heels and forgot about the subject. Allowing you to work out your own problems.

Hours passed. Bloody difficult hours. And Brant finally understood.

All these things were done for him by one particular person. A person who loved to pamper him. To be kind and helpful to him. Even when he was whining. Someone who always made him laugh, listened to him and drowned out the boredom that Brant hated so much. That person was you.

But after all, you couldn't take a grudge against him forever. Right?

Brant decided to show you mercy and help you a little in your attempt to win him back. To give you an excuse to smooth things over so that things could go back to how they used to be.

Proud of himself and with a confident smile, he proceeded to execute his plan.

A small dramatic turn. A fake stumble. And a spectacular fall down the stairs into the abyss of lower deck. Perfect opportunity for you to move from a place not far away and be able to rush towards him. To catch him in your arms.

He specifically chose the right time and place just to feel your strong embrace and security of your closeness.

But he didn't hear any stamping of feet. Only terrified sounds of his companions with definitely poor reflexes.

Shit.

At the last moment, he used his forte to release some rope and grab onto the railing above.

Apparently, today he had to act as his own hero-

Fair enough.

After all, he told you that he could take care of his life and health. It would be foolish to question that now. But after all, it didn't apply to small things…

So he tried again.

But what was his surprise when, while dropping his compass beside you, he failed to get your help.

Only a loud clang and his gasp.

As if you didn't care at all.

Brant looked dumbfounded at the small object lying alone on the wooden boards. Why didn't you pick it up? Why didn't you hand it to him with a warm smile after which Brant could roll his eyes and, after faking seconds of thought, forgive you and let you return to his side? Why didn't you even look in his direction? Why you just walked past, busy talking to other sailor?

Okay.

Disasters happen. Maybe you just didn't notice. Maybe he should sign you up for a medical visit with that poor hearing of yours...

But you certainly must have noticed when he squeezed between dining room table and a bench on which you were sitting. Deliberately arcing his back. So inviting... Exposing his curves that you were so fond of. Just to encourage you- tempt you- make you lose control.

Orrr-… you could.

Things were beginning to call for drastic measures.

But after all, he couldn't apologize. Definitely couldn't. He had too much pride for that. Besides, you taught him this yourself. Brant didn't have to apologize. He wasn't just a captain, he was also like your little bratty princess.

Okay maybe not so little. Mostly not bratty. And for calling him a princess in front of the crew he probably would have thrown you overboard.

But-

You were always the one who made the first move. You liked to do things for him and couldn't stand the thought that he was sad. It was enough for Brant to send you eyes of a beaten up puppy from afar, asking to be taken in, and you were already running towards him and making all your misunderstandings go away.

But not this time.

Dear Jue. Why did you have to be so stubborn.

Especially now. Brant couldn't stand it.

He missed you so much-

He just wanted to soak in the silk sheets and be pampered with kisess by you until all his stresses from today were gone.

He will no longer go alone on any mission. He swears! Just take him back-... Please

Night has come. A period of celebration. That moment when Brant ordered time off for the entire crew. To relax a bit. Too bad that it didn't apply to him as well.

At least not today.

You decided to have some fun. Entire senior staff. You headed out to town, to one of nightclubs. The one with a shaddy reputation.

Rinascita's elite have always fooled around here. Golden spoon generations and those who knew how to crash.

Music here was loud and lights were colorful. Almost like any club, but in that air you could sense that aristocratic shabbiness. Laughs more fake than usual. Ostentatious clink of crystal glasses. And the drops of decades-old liquors that were falling prudently.

Splendor of expensive pearls and precious rhinestones competed with the beauty of personalities not tainted by work. It wasn't hard to feel on oneself mirroring gaze of others. Some searched for the best victims. Hoping to turn one night into a ring on a finger. Others oozed venom into their competitors. Whether they were hoping for a good candidate to settle down or just one for a passionate fun. Everyone was a rival here. Everyone was trying to be the most beautiful. Throwing on their best furs, tight outfits and putting on themselves the best make-up to highlight their features as much as possible. They batted their eyelashes, clicked their heels, playfuly curled hairs on their fingers.

Brant didn't need any of above to draw crowds. Or at least he didn't need to make such an effort. Even without expensive accessories, he unknowingly attracted plenty of suitors.

However, he wasn't thrilled with all the attention. He dismissed all pushy admirers with just a wave of his hand. Normally, he would probably get into a chat with them, make a joke, learn something interesting, maybe tease his boyfriend a little by that…

Today, however, all the whispers in his ear, all the nudges on his shoulders and every attempt to buy him a drink, bounced off him like off a wall.

He was in no mood for playing. And all his attention was focused on one person.

On you.

You were on two opposite sides of the room.

You were seated at a glass table, on a large, red, rounded sofa. He took his place on a modest bar stool, leaning his elbows against the bar top to which his back was turned. Abyss of glittering dance floor separated you both. From time to time the view of each other got blocked with bodies spinning in the dance.

Brant looked at you intensely, while you didn't even grant him with a single glance. It was as if you didn't know he was there at all. And that's probably exactly what happened.

While you were enjoying yourself at your best, drinking another purple drink, he was on tenterhooks. Debating whether to finally break through and approach you.

But he couldn't. His pride wouldn't let him.

Wasn't his presence enough? Didn't just the mere sight of him make you want to pounce on him? After all, it used to be like that… Did you manage to get bored of him already?

Brant bit his lower lip slightly. This situation was beginning to frustrate him and make him start to doubt himself.

He had had enough. These slimy people sticking to his body, this music piercing his eardrums. This club, you and himself. He already wanted to go home and bury himself into a bed. Crying quietly into his pillow and cuddling up to where your body should lie.

At the same time, however, he didn't even have the strength to get up. As if something was depriving him of will to live. Suddenly the vision of returning home alone in black night began to seem frightening. He sneaked down the dark alleys many times, escaping from The Order who tried to capture him. What's more, he always succeeded. And even if… he could walk out of each confrontation unscathed. After all, he was a big man. Postured, strong and persistent. Heck, he was the captain of a ship! After all, that's why you argued in the first place.

But now-…

Now-…

Now he just wished for you to hold him.

Brant lifted his head up, wanting to give you one last longing look.

And then-

Then he noticed something strange.

More specifically, someone who shouldn't be in your company. Someone who was definitely not a part of your crew.

A long-haired blonde woman, in a tight burgundy dress, with far too deeply cut neckline. She smiled flirtatiously at you. As if confident of her success.

With smooth movements she leaned towards you.

Brant felt how it began to boil inside him. And it wasn't due to the crowd of people or poor ventilation.

He took several deep breaths. Tried to calm himself down.

It's not that he couldn't trust you…

But her legs…

Her damn long legs in too high heels that she just threw on your lap!

Oh no. Definitely not!

You sat slightly troubled, feeling the piercing gaze tracing your lips. Gaze of someone you didn't want to feel.

But how did this happen?

At one moment you were chatting with your friends about your latest trip, bragging about your recent catch. And the next, you heard their immature, sneering whistles, suggesting the arrival of someone new.

This someone must have definitely been beautiful and phenomenal if they met with such a reaction.

You were hoping for Brant. You no longer cared about which one of you would apologize. It never mattered to you. You just wanted to feel him snuggle into your side, pretending that nothing had happened and joining your card game. Acting as your best charm and also the perfect source of distraction for your opponents.

Unfortunately. You could only dream. Instead of your confident boyfriend. His tangled sea hair, stunning, playful smile and beaming, curious eyes. You saw some stranger. A woman. Not much different from everyone else here.

That's how you found yourself in this situation. Blonde introduced herself to you by some local name. However, you didn't pay too much attention to it. You wanted to get out of her bony grip as quickly as possible. It wasn't easy though, you didn't want to be rude or make a scene and the only way out was blocked by your friends. Who apparently had a great laugh at your discomfort.

You felt as she traveled over your exposed shoulder with her long red claws and at the same time how she tried to fix her wavy hair. Apparently, this was supposed to be arousing, but for you it only caused unpleasant shivers. Like when you were suddenly attacked by some predatory echos in the wilderness, who tried to get they claws into you.

Woman tried to draw your attention to her colored lips, right after she saw your lack of interest in her exposed breasts. To her misfortune, all her disrespect of your personal space only turned you off.

In your head, you started making up some excuses. Arranging words in a way that wouldn't hurt her fragile ego. Despite everything, you were a gentleman.

You didn't take into your head what she tried to whisper to you. Promise of an unforgettable night, proposal to go to a hotel-

The only place you planned to go after leaving that club was to your boyfriend's bedroom.

Suddenly you felt something on your knee. Something that shouldn't be there. A foreign leg that you planned to push off as quickly as possible.

However, you didn't have enough time.

Loud gasps of your companions rang out all around. Terrified. They already knew how it would end.

-Hey! That's my man

You suddenly heard a firm and confident voice. So familiar to you.

Shocked, you lifted your gaze up at your partner. He stood proudly with his arms propped at his sides and with an unusual aura around him. Not just superiority. Something more emanated from him. Pure, natural beauty.

He didn't need skimpy clothes, cheap tricks or surgical touch-ups to be breathtaking. He was naturally bloody handsome.

Startled woman sprang back from you quickly. She looked horrified at the new company.

You could see the way she kept closing and opening her mouth every now and then. She probably wanted to argue, but she couldn't. It was as if she sensed that she was no match for her rival. You knew subconsciously that she must have launched herself on taken guys more than once. But the sight of Brant was overwhelming for her.

You weren't surprised with her reaction. You also could feel a shiver. Though for you it was more of a thrill of excitement. The way he was fussing about you was almost hot. Your adorable boyfriend, all flushed with jealousy. He glared at the intruder with deadly look. With a hatred stronger than when fighting the toughest opponent. On the battlefield, Brant at least tried to show his enemies some respect. Here, he showed only contempt.

You couldn't lie, you were really proud of your boyfriend. Or that you could be called his partner.

A sort of soft glow radiated from Brant's posture. Something like a warning. Any person who only dared to touch him right now could expect to get knocked down. Same applied to the violation of your person. Everyone present at the table felt that one inch movement in the wrong direction could make Brant snap. In his visions, he was already going for blonde's throat. Proudly fighting for what was his.

She tainted your body, her sultry touch left behind a filth that Brant would have to erase for a long time. He had an overwhelming desire to show this woman where her place was.

After all, he was the only one who was right for you…

But this woman didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve any extra minute to be wasted on her.

Brant didn't need revenge now. He needed you...

So before blonde could summon the courage to make one last gesture of cheekiness. Brant leaned over the table and extended his hand in your direction.

With a broad smile, you took his palm in yours. A pleasant warmth spread through your body. Brant reciprocated your happiness and this time rather pleasant, laughed sincerely. This soothing sound echoed through the room, drowning out the noise. You looked deeply into each other's eyes and everything around you began to fade away. Disappearing into the darkness, as if there were only the two of you. People, music, lights. Nothing mattered when you had each other.

You felt a sudden squeeze and pull towards your lover. Brant clearly wanted to kidnap his boyfriend, and you didn't plan to resist. Squeezing through the space your crew cleared, you let yourself be carried away by the strength of your partner.

And then you just ran.

Ran far ahead.

Laughing loudly and trying not to bump into any obstacle or break your legs on the steep stairs.

With the corners of your mouth raised high.

As long as you're together.

As long as you kept moving forward.

You felt a push towards the bed and a swish of sheets that raised into the air as a response to your rough siting on the edge of a mattress.

Brant looked at you with bent neck and made a small pouty face. Your heart began to beat faster, and you felt yourself slowly melting. You couldn't stay angry any longer. Especially after what he did in the bar. It was hard to hide how madly you liked it.

You spread your arms in an inviting gesture, and he didn't hesitate for even a second.

In the blink of an eye, he crossed the distance separating you both, and in a clumsy manner climbed up your thighs, straddling you. Out of habit, he snuggled into the crook of your neck.

You looked down. At his beautiful, closed eyes, highlighted with a soft pink line. At his heated skin, worn out by the run and heat in the club. At his unbuttoned shirt, perfectly exposing what you found so hard to resist.

You felt his weight, his gentle trembling. The way he wriggled on top of you to find the perfect spot. The way he arched his back and poked your arms trying to get your attention and seek your touch.

He was exactly where he belonged.

Completely swayed with this, you locked him in a gentle embrace and with slow movements began to roll circles on his back. Brant murmured satisfied at this and inhaled the scent of your cologne. Warm and heavy smell of sandalwood surrounded his senses. Man felt as his muscles began to slowly relax, and he unconsciously started to drift off to another realm. Nothing relaxed him more than your scent - scent of home.

-Don't leave me - he eventually muttered with authority into your shirt, to which you only responded with a questioning nod. You also were about to fall asleep from the feeling of high temperature of his body.

-I said don't leave me - he objected louder this time, pulling himself out of your neck and once again squirming in your lap -Don't leave me alone. Not now nor never. Especially for some blond-haired floozy. I am definitely better than her

His statement was more than serious, and you didn't dare question it. Especially now.

-Oh yeah, you are definitely better. I am much more attracted to blue-haired beauties

Brant didn't seem to sense this subtle irony. Or maybe he didn't want to… He breathed a sigh of relief and returned to his spot. Snuggled in tighter, like a cuddly koala. He was arranging himself as if he was planning a short nap on you.

And then you remembered something… You couldn't pass up an opportunity like this. An opportunity to have a little more fun.

Especially when he was so cute and vulnerable, exhausted after a full day of experiences.

-And what about your Rover?

-[M/N]~!

Brant scowled with that pouty face of his, and you snorted at this with genuine amusement.

You couldn't annoy him any longer.

-Okay okay. I'm sorry - you grabbed his cheek and looked deeply into his eyes - I promise I won't leave you again for more than five steps

When you thought that this would more than satisfy him, Brant furrowed his brow clearly displeased.

-No more steps. You must be close

Shit... what had you done to deserve him.

Without waiting any longer, you straightened up and saluted.

-Yes, captain! -you laughed again at the adorable groans of your sleeping boyfriend- No steps. I will be glued to you, so you won't be able to get rid of me

With a smile on your lips, you approached him, as your promise stated, and placed a sweet kiss on his forehead, sealing your words.

[astonmartingf]

VOODOO DOLL ; LH44

lewis hamilton x mercedes driver!reader

. . . hamilton is a penchant for opposing teammates, and after the previous one he somehow got stuck with another, but after years of dominance new emotions develop between the two.

amgf i am a sucker for yearning and fluff and this is exactly that, lewis the man that you are... also if the format is different from previous posts it's because i'm testing out formats

death of a bachelor ; masterlist

[2025]

“You called us for this?” Alonso raised his brows looking pitifully at you sharing the same expression as Nico from the left side. You groan in your palms, hiding your face from the two men.

“This is a big deal okay. Why are you invalidating my feelings?” Mumbling under your breath, you reason out hoping for a sliver of understanding. It’s been so long since you bottled your feelings, and as much as you hate to admit it, you might start-

“No one is invalidating your feelings other than yourself amor, otherwise why would you call us to convince you that you actually like-”

“Okay, okay, okay. Shut up will you, it’s like you want the whole world that I like…” You turn around, checking the surroundings. “Lewis.”

Nico pressed his lip into a thin, a short sigh leaving his mouth, “You’re in denial and in love.”

You shot Nico an incredulous look, a scoff escaping your lips, “I am not in love. Alo, tell him.”

The older Spaniard grimaced, shaking his head. “At this point, you may as well be- four years? He’s already moved to Ferrari for God’s sake and you have yet to make a move.”

You groan once more, reminding yourself of the signs and signals you missed or accidentally dropped towards Lewis. “I have made a few moves…” Your voice thinning as you feel two pairs of eyes staring right at you.

“And I’m embarrassed to say that they also flew over Lewis’ head. So no, don’t ask me what I said, or did- just ignore what I said.” You rest your head down on the table, sad and moping.

Nico laughs at you, “Look at the state of you, hung over a boy.”

“He’s not just any boy Nico, gosh you’re acting like you moved on quickly from him- this is Lewis we’re talking about. Heck that was a semi-platonic relationship you had going on there, how am I supposed to cope with actually knowing that I can’t be in a romantic relationship with him?”

A gasp left your lips, hands shaking as your cover over them. Avoiding Nico’s gaze who was still laughing at you, despite your jab at his relationship with Nico and Alonso who took a sip from his cup of tea.

“So you admit it…”

Alonso broke the silence leaving you nodding to yourself.

“I actually- Fuck.”

[2023]

Lewis sits in silence, watching Nico squint his eyes from the other side of the table. “When was this?”

Gulping, Lewis didn’t think this far. He was ranting first, and then eventually spilling in some white lies in between before Nico filled in and connected the dots. He should’ve known Nico would catch on- Lewis is being too obvious. At least that’s what he thinks.

Sighing, Lewis mulled over his thoughts gathering his words before speaking it out into existence. The three words he’s been replaying over his head for the last two years- When did things get complicated?

“Two years ago? I thought about it far longer than I’ll admit. But I’ve recently come into terms with it…” Lewis nods his head, sitting in silence with Nico.

“And what happened? What’s different?”

Smiling to himself at the thought of you, Lewis goes through all the times you’ve managed to tug the tiniest of his heartstrings causing him to malfunction like the current state of their engine. It was pitiful, not just the team, but the state of his heart.

“I don’t even understand… Which makes me even more furious! How could she do that to me? I think about her all the time, she’s not even racing anymore. She’s nowhere near me, yet she’s all I think about, it’s driving me insane. And don’t get me started on whenever she’s actually on the paddock- I see her what? Once a month, I go to the F1 Academy races to get a glimpse of her. I'm such a loser. And her face! How could I not stop by and greet her, she’s always enthusiastic whenever I’m there- Not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty good company, and we are friends but God I wish she’d take in the signs I’m putting down. I like YN- too much at this point, I can’t believe it. And you! You’re laughing at my misery.”

Lewis raises his head, far too into his thoughts only realizing that Nico has been laughing at him for the past minute. His back flushed into the seat, legs crossed with arms resting on the table.

“At least one of us is enjoying this, because I’m a suffering loser, who can’t get a grip. She’s actually doing things to my mind. I’m acting crazy because of her.”

Nico bursts into laughter, “You’re- you have a lot to say about YN.”

Lewis scoffs, giving his friend a pointed look, “That’s all you have to say? Wow, I miss talking to you, but this- this is a personal attack towards me.”

Shaking his head, Nico wheezes at Lewis, “No, no, no… Think about it- look at you. It’s just funny to me, I remember when you first talked about her. You said, and I quote, “I will never like her as a teammate.” and you also compared her to me. Look at you now. I think it’s funny.”

Lewis shakes his head, disappointed. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget it.”

“No- you’re not taking all that back. Go on- tell me more.”

Lewis raises his brows suspiciously, “What? So you can tease me?”

Nico raises his hands in surrender, “Hey if not me who else would listen to you talk on and on about YN?”

“I know Seb would listen to me without judgment, and maybe Charles…” Lewis lists the few people in and out the grid who are aware about his feelings towards YN.

Nico raises his brows laughing to himself, “Oh Lewis, you truly are living in your own bubble- you’re too good for yourself. Guess how I know what you’ve been talking to Seb about? Right, he calls me to check on you.”

Lewis pales at the realization, how Nico is somehow always available, how he calls on the right time.

“And Charles, who calls Seb, who calls me. Right Lewis, there’s three of us- and you’ll always end up with me if you don’t get your act right.”

lewishamilton

liked by nicorosberg, charles_leclerc, and 21,582,953 others

lewishamilton me when my crush finally noticed me...

view 1,648,592 comments...

user1 EXCUSE NE? WHAT HAPPENED TO HELLO AND HI?

user2 am i seeing this right?

user3 the power of yn

user4 why would you assume it's yn?

user5 i mean who else could get lewis to post like this?

user6 bro got 21 million people watching this confession

nicorosberg this is what you got from our conversation two years ago? embarrassing, even i can do better than this

sebastianvettel5 he's trying, leave him be

charles_leclerc is this what we've been waiting for the last four years? the bar is actually low

user7 what do you mean 4 years?

user8 HELP, they're actually implying that this is for YN

user9 there goes the lewyn fans going crazy it could be anyone 🙄

user10 can't a girl have their fun, jeez leave people alone

user11 it's embarrasing

user12 they're actually eating lewis up with this

nicorosberg this is your plan?

lewishamilton yeah, it's working is it not?

nicorosberg i don't think so man

charles_leclerc is she even on instagram?

lewishamilton ...

sebastianvettel5 for someone who has a crush on this person for the last 4 years i might add this is actually embarrassing behavior

user13 what is happening?

user14 i love this too much what the heck

user15 i know they're grilling him in the messages

user16 another one for the history books 😤✍️🔥🔥🔥

user17 it's blow after blow for hamilton

user18 he's a loser in love actually, does it make you stupid?

lewishamilton i don't care if i look stupid i want her to see this

amgf ahahahahaha the end! uhm... enjoy 👍 this actually had me giggling and shit wtf, maybe it's lewis maybe it's the fluff but /sighs/ the lore i can add to this fic... just you wait 😤

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part one)

tutor!jayce talis x reader, modern college au

content: reader is forced to take gen ed classes in order to graduate college. this unfortunately includes physics for which you desperately need a tutor for...jayce talis happens to need community service and is available to help. (references to adhd/neurodivergence in this chapter, that’s all)

notes: hiii. as i am on my indefinite break from golden boy, i wanted to start something else bc the yearn for jayce content can only be filled as long as i work to preserve him myself... so here’s my first official series!! double note, while this is modern, i still want to keep hints and references to the show/characters so they’re believable! so if you see viktor talking in a way that seems unnatural with dialogue, its just my smarty pants bf being his smart self with vast vocabulary. 🤍

word count: 1.5k

series masterlist here

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆　　 。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆

The absolute worst part of college is being forced to take the general education classes simply to graduate. You were an arts major, there was no reason for you to be cramming your brain with math equations so many years after high school—and yet here you were. Unfortunately, you waited until later in your university career to take on the required course load, and now you were stuck in one of the only classes with availability that worked with your schedule—physics. The thought of the class alone made your head hurt. The only upside was having it with a friend, albeit much more skilled at the subject, Viktor was always welcome company. 

“I hate these weekly quizzes, I genuinely cannot afford to fail another one.” 

Viktor chuckled, “The subject matter isn’t that difficult…” 

“We can’t all be geniuses, Viktor.” 

“Yes, some of us are more skilled than others, I’d say.” He moved to gather his books, the class having ended. 

You mirrored his action, packing your bag as you spoke to him. “Natural skill or not, this shit is actually dumb…makes me feel dumb.” 

“You are not dumb,” he reassured you, “It can be a lot to comprehend.” 

You shuffled through the aisle, following behind Viktor as he moved toward the exit. “It’s these gen ed classes…why do I need to understand physics for liberal arts. Granted, I know the school is more tech based…but I changed my major! I should be free of the shackles of math by now.” You wiped a hand over your face, clearly exasperated. 

You matched Viktor’s steps, picking up a bit to open the door for him. The slight breeze of the outside air brushed over you—cooling the heat that you didn’t realize was there. A breath left you, exhaling the bubbling rage in you. 

Viktor reached a hand toward your shoulder, grasping it with a firm encouragement. “You will conquer physics. Natural skill…or not.” He smiled again, a teasing tone on his voice. 

“Viktor!” You swatted his hand away, “I hate you! Could you at least offer a solution? These quizzes are literally every week. What’s the point of checking my comprehension if I know I’m gonna fail-“ 

“Listen, you will not fail. In fact,” he paused, “I have a solution for this little conflict.” 

“The solution being?” 

He stopped walking, an obvious look on his face, “Get a tutor.” 

A scoff, “Yeah right. I’m not in middle school. I don’t need a tutor, Viktor.” You started walking again, “Besides, why can’t you just help me—you’re all the tutor I need!” 

“I have quite a bit on my plate this term already. I have two labs, recitations, and work-“ 

“Which is just code for find time to see Sky, got it.” 

He didn’t reply to that, not directly. But the way he blushed and looked away was indication enough. Viktor explained before that he and Sky have known each other practically their whole lives. They always saw each other around; the fact that they ended up at the same school was purely by fate, or chance, Viktor would say. That was, despite the relatively high probability with there being so few state schools. 

He changed the subject, leading you across the street. “I know someone who would be willing to help. He mentioned needing community service.” 

“Fine, I guess…” 

“Good, because we’re here.” 

You looked up, the student resource center labeled clearly in front of you. The prospect of walking in was already daunting. You loved independence and it often came at the expense of feeling incompetent when you had to ask for help. You confided in Viktor about that before. He figured the best way was to just show up, not giving you the opportunity to get yourself worked up and find an excuse to not go. 

He opened the door, tilting his head towards the inside. “You got this.” 

You shook your head, the idea making you nauseous. He returned the motion, this time shaking his head. You can do this. 

It took a second, but you finally walked in, Viktor slightly on your trail. “He should be here, he told me he would be.” He continued as you nodded silently, “Oh, there he is.” 

His back was to you, speaking to a woman he seemed to be friendly with. His shoulders were wide, making her barely visible to you from this angle—but she was undoubtedly stunning. You couldn’t help but acknowledge the way they so enthusiastically spoke. You didn’t want to interrupt, that would be embarrassing, torturous, even. Instead, you turned to the desk, eyeing the receptionist. She seemed to be close to your age…which somehow made you even more nervous—gosh. 

“Hi…” You cleared your throat, “Hi, I wanted to ask about tutoring? Like for physics?” 

Viktor nodded behind you, proud of the seemingly small gesture. He knew this was actually an immense step for you. 

The receptionist greeted you back, “We do have physics tutoring available! There are a few student volunteers, but we usually assign according to those with a more free schedule…” She looked to her left, pointing to the QR code that faced toward you. “You can register here, it’s fairly quick and someone…” she locked onto the man across from her, still mid conversation. “Someone should be able to help you get started today actually…Jayce!” 

You turned to see the man pause his conversation, a brow raising at his name being called. Recognition flashed in your direction as well, “Oh hey, Viktor.” 

“Hello, Jayce.” 

The man walked up to the counter, a more annoyed tone and body language accompanied him, then. It wasn’t genuine, but rather one out of familiarity, like he and the receptionist had known each other a while. It was quite jovial, actually. “What do you want, Cait?” 

She rolled her eyes at that, “Someone needs a tutor,” she smiled at you before looking to him with a grimace, “You’re a tutor, correct?” 

He shrugged, “I need community service.” 

“Great, so you two are a match, then.” 

Your phone suddenly became rather interesting—the simple intake form immediately became numerous pages long and excessively tedious. You felt his eyes on you, though, and saw a hand out towards you in your peripheral. “Nice to meet you…Jayce.” 

You looked up finally, reaching to shake his outstretched hand. The only thing that came to you was your name—first and last, simple. 

He half smiled, echoing your reply, “Jayce Talis. I like the formality.” He chuckled, dropping your hand. 

You looked back silently at Viktor, a sort of terror on your face. He spoke then, “I should be going. Shouldn’t these two have their introductory meeting now?” He observed your twisted facial expression, looking towards the desk for a reply. 

She nodded, “Great idea! It’s a short one, just getting to know one another and scheduling for later. You can use that room right there,” she looked at the computer in front of her for confirmation, “It should be empty for a few more minutes!” She motioned her hands for you two to hurry along. The man, Jayce…Jayce Talis…walked over and spoke to the woman he’d been talking to before. You couldn’t hear them, but observed the way he rubbed her arm before reaching for a hug. You tried not to stare, but you weren’t entirely familiar with the resource center and he was supposed to be leading you, you thought. 

You trailed behind Jayce, turning back to see Viktor. He stood with a hand on his cane, the other with a thumbs up to you. You nodded, rubbing your hands awkwardly at your sides. You watched as Jayce opened the door, stepping back to let you in first. That was nice. You held a tight smile, a pleasantry you’d grown accustomed to displaying in uncomfortable situations such as this one. 

Both of you sat down, a brief silence filling the room. Jayce spoke first, “So what brings you to tutoring?” 

You swallowed, “I am not great at physics…I’m pretty bad at it actually…and Viktor said you could help.” 

He nodded, “You two are friends?” 

“Yeah, we met a while back. How do you know each other?” 

“Lab partners, same major, rest is history.” 

“Right…” A huff from you and the shuffle of Jayce reaching in his pocket were the only sounds in the room. 

“So,” he scrolled on his phone, “You noted you have a hard time focusing. Is it just this class?” 

“Not just physics, no. I have a hard time paying attention in general. Bad memory, disorganized brain, the works. Makes retaining the information really hard as you can imagine.”

“I get that, but we can work on that…find things that help you remember a bit better…make it more interesting.” 

You could only blink as a response. This was the first time you could recall, besides with close friends, that someone didn’t make you feel extremely weird for not being able to stay focused. You often skipped from one topic to the next, forgetting your starting point. Conversations would float away from you, or you’d get too emotionally invested. People would call you loud, random, even. You appreciated that Jayce replied simply, concisely, offering a solution. Sure, it was his job…kind of…but it felt pretty good. 

“Thank you.” 

“Sure.” 

He went over a few more questions with you—referring to the intake form you’d filled out on your phone. In no time, you had set a meeting time for the following day. 

Both of you stood, collecting your bags. 

“See you tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow.” 

part two

[10ava01]

Drawn to You

Jason Todd x F reader

Masterlist , Request??

Summary: Maybe wishes come true when you least expect it, but what happens when the magic runs out?

Troupe: hurt, jealousy, Jason being bf coded, hopeless romantic, yearning

Your fingers were messy. Stained with colour as you traced the edge of his jaw for probably the third time tonight. You wanted everything to be perfect. The shadowing needed to be perfect in order for the complete painting to look lifelike. You wanted Jason Todd to look perfect, just like he is for you. The only character that lived rent-free in your head ever since you turned sixteen. The only character you have ever drawn since then.

Your lamp on the nightstand was the only glowing light in your room, the rest cast in a cozy mess: pencil shavings, empty mugs, plates, books everywhere, blankets halfway off the bed, and sketches—dozens of them. As always, all of them were of him. Hood off, hood on. Gun drawn. Grin crooked. Scarred and perfect. And now, with the last stroke of your pencil, you sighed and rested your head against the page, cheek meeting the paper. Almost imagining that you could feel him.

"You're not even real," you mumbled sleepily. But more than anything, you wanted him to be real. And with that thought, you fell asleep.

What you didn't know—what no one could explain—was how the clock hit 3:00 AM like a spell being cast. The air shimmered. The pages beneath your cheek pulsed faintly. Then, in a quick flicker of red and black, the impossible happened. Your wish came true.

The one and only Jason Todd appeared. Not in a sketch. Not a dream. The man of your dreams became real.

He staggered slightly, his boots heavy against the wooden floor of your bedroom. His helmet was in his hands, his dark hair ruffled and damp like he'd just left the middle of a fight. His blue eyes scanned wildly—walls filled with art, posters, shelves bursting with books, half-dead succulents, framed photos and plushies in every corner. And then his eyes landed on you. Peacefully asleep. Your head in a sketch of… him.

“The hell?” he whispered.

There was no reasonable explanation for this. For him being here, but that didn't mean he wanted to wake you up at this odd hour. So instead, he sat down on the worn couch at the end of your bed and let out a deep breath he was holding onto for a long time. Everything seemed so strange but at the same time it did not worry him. Sure, he had seen over the years some strange things, but this didn't even make the cut. The room smelled like lavender and pencil leads, chaos and comfort. His eyes lingered on your face. He recognized that kind of exhaustion—soft and vulnerable. He looked down at your sketchbook. It was him, he was sure of it. Your drawings were telling him that you saw through him, through all the masks, and that scared him a little.

All he could do now was wait for you to wake up and have any kind of explanation. Jason leaned back and waited for you.

—

You didn't even scream when you woke up. In the morning, you shuffled from the bathroom, yawning and adjusting your glasses with a towel wrapped around your head, muttering about something Jason didn't understand. Then you saw him. Your eyes widened as you saw him sitting. In your room. You dropped your towel as you panicked. “What the—”

Before you could even scream, Jason was on his feet, hands gently but firmly clapping over your mouth. He pressed you against the nearest wall, careful not to hurt you but overwhelming in his size, eyes wide and pleading. Your doe eyes almost made him regret pinning you against the wall, but what else could he do?

"Shh, okay? Just—don't scream. I’m not gonna hurt you. I just need answers. And maybe some damn coffee too."

You only nodded in shock. Sure, you had wished for him to be real, but as he towered over you, all your thoughts vanished. How—when—why—what—every reasonable question left your head as you tried to make sense of what was going on right now. He slowly pulled back.

Of course, you didn't have any answers. You had drawings, an obsession maybe, but not any explanation for how the fuck Jason Todd was standing in your room. But that didn't mean you wanted him to go home. This is what you wanted for the longest part of your life, and having him so damn near you just made you a little selfish. You're not even near to sending him back even if you could.

—

He followed you everywhere, almost like a personal bodyguard. Even to school.

“I’m not letting you walk into a building full of weirdos and hormonal jackasses by yourself,” Jason muttered, arms crossed in your doorway. You rolled your eyes at that, but did not argue. Not really. You didn't hate it—in fact, you enjoyed every second of it. Spending time with him became the best part of your life. There was a time when you wanted to know what it would be like having a conversation with him, and now you did it so casually.

It had been a few days since he magically showed up—mysteriously, impossibly, into your world—and now you were cautiously weaving him into your life. Everything still feels like a dream to you. A dream that you don't want to wake up from. But this is real, which means you have to eventually introduce him to Tyler.

“Okay, so listen,” you said while zipping up your bag. “There’s someone I want you to meet. Kinda have to.”

You don't even know why you sound a little nervous, because it's Tyler. Maybe it’s the part where you get to show a little part of your life to Jay and that makes it official for him to be more real. You don't even know what this is at this point.

Jason frowned. “Do I have to smile?” “No. Just be... normal.” “You’re asking a guy with a kill count to act normal.” “Jason.” He smirked. “Fine. Lead the way.”

Now you almost regret mentioning anything. His teasing just proved to you that maybe Jason should only live in your own world, where you get to have him to yourself and kinda don't have to share him. While this does sound a little selfish, what can a girl do?

Tyler met you at the steps like always with his grin, bouncing with too much energy for his own good at 8:00 AM in the morning. “Hey! I saved us a table. You brought—”

His words got cut short as his eyes landed on Jason who was standing beside you. And Jason, you might ask? He was already sizing him up like he'd just scanned his criminal file. His next victim.

“Tyler, this is Jason,” you said carefully. “A… family friend. He’s staying with me for a bit.”

It was best to address him as a family friend since calling him your cousin would be a little too weird, and family friend sounded safe.

Tyler extended a hand. “Hey, man. Nice to meet you.”

A little fear was in his voice, but that man towering practically anyone would make someone scared, you guessed.

Jay did not move at first, then—finally—he shook it. Briefly. Firmly. The kind of handshake that's more of a warning than a friendly welcome. “Sure,” Jason said flatly. “You too.”

Tyler laughed, trying to lighten the tension. “So, you’re into comics too? Or just Y/N’s favorite vigilante?”

Well, you kinda froze at that. Jason did know that you liked him, well your drawings explained everything to him, but hearing that from someone else made it clearer.

Jason’s jaw ticked. “Something like that.”

The whole walk inside, Jay didn't say a word. Almost too lost in his head, until Tyler peeled off to class.

“That’s the guy, huh?” And here you thought Jay would be more mature than those horny teenage guys, but his teasing just proved you wrong. You sighed at him and asked dumbly, “What guy?” “The one that's always texting you, while you ignore it every time. The one who keeps looking at you like you’re dessert.” Now you're even convinced that he is acting like a jealous boyfriend, but the thought of him being your boyfriend didn't sound so bad—so just to humor him, you played along. “He doesn’t—” “He does.” You gave him a look. “Jason, he’s just my friend. He’s been around forever.” “Yeah, and he wants more. Guarantee it.” “Even if he did, I don’t.” Maybe you did notice over time Tyler being more clingy toward you, but that didn't mean he wanted something from you, right? Jason stared at you, eyes dark and unreadable. “Then say it.” You faltered. “I… I don’t want to make it awkward.” Jason scoffed. “Right. So you’d rather keep letting him stare at you like that while I walk around pretending I’m not one word away from knocking his teeth in?” “Jason.” “I’m serious.” Now he definitely sounds jealous.

You wanted to say it. Almost said it—I don't want him, only you. I always wanted you. But those words got stuck inside you. You couldn't bring yourself to say them even if you wanted to.

Jason stepped back at your silence. “Forget it,” he muttered. But he didn’t forget. And you knew it.

—

Later that week, the tension between them only thickened. You don't even understand how. They don't even spend time together for it to happen, and when they see each other, the silence falls onto you.

Jason leaned over your shoulder in the library while you studied for your upcoming test, his tone casually lethal. Not to disturb anyone, but his intentions were something else—you could feel it. You didn't bat an eye at it, like you always did, not with him.

“So… Tyler,” he muttered. “Is he always this handsy, or is today special?” You have to pick your brain for a second to understand what Jay’s talking about, because there was no way in hell he would let this go easily and you know it. You didn’t look up. “Jason.” “What?” His voice sounds so innocent that you almost believe that underneath his words there isn't a possessive tone in it. “Don’t start,” you warn him. “I’m not starting. I’m observing. The guy basically drools every time you talk. It’s like watching a golden retriever try to flirt.” Now you aren’t even sure in what way Jason had become your boyfriend that wanted you to be his and his only. While that thought sounded like heaven, he wasn’t damn near being your boyfriend and so it frustrated you more when he acted that way. You laughed under your breath to not show him any sign of your little enjoyment toward his behavior. “He’s just a friend.” You try again to make him understand that Tyler will always be a friend to you and nothing else. Jason raised an eyebrow, unconvinced again. “Right. That’s why he’s staring at your lips while you explain basic math.” “He’s not—” You glanced across the room to make sure that Tyler isn’t anywhere near you to hear Jay talking about him. That would only hurt his feelings, and that would also mean Jason wins in this whatever battle both of them are having between them. Some ego thing, you’re sure of it. To your luck, as always, Tyler was, in fact, staring. Which proved his point even more, that you wanted to put some sense into Tyler’s brain since he doesn’t have some. You groaned in anger. “He’s harmless.”

Jason only leaned closer. You could feel his breath on your neck, which made you almost forget that he was talking to you. Him being so close to you made you forget everything. The library, what you were doing, what you were talking about. The only thing that mattered to you was him. Only him.

“He wants you.” At his voice, you snap out of your thoughts. So what if Tyler wants you? That didn’t necessarily mean you want him. If you wanted that, then you would have been together for a long time—but you don’t. You turned your head slowly, meeting his eyes. “And what if I don’t want him?”

Jason froze for a second. His lips parted, just slightly. “Then say it.” He isn’t anywhere near letting you go with this, it's almost like he needs your confession to prove something. What that is, you don’t know, but you shy away anytime he brings that up.

Your heart stuttered. You became nervous, and only if you could confess it. Just speak. Just— But you didn't. Too afraid to spill out the truth. That only if he felt the same way, you could have told him about your feelings. About your love for him.

And Jason’s eyes cooled, pulling back like you had just confirmed his worst suspicion. That you proved his whole point. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered in disappointment.

But you did only want him. The man of your dreams had always been him, and you just didn’t know how to show it to him. Make him believe it. Make him see it.

—

At night, things shifted for the better as you hoped. The silence between you wasn't bitter anymore—it was heavy with everything unsaid. The unspoken.

Sometimes you had fallen asleep shoulder to shoulder, your hand against his thigh while he read one of your favorite books. Sometimes he’d pull you between his legs and wrap his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as you sketched something quietly.

Sometimes, you'd talk for hours in the dark, your voice muffled in his chest, his fingers brushing lazy circles into your skin beneath your hoodie. You never crossed any serious lines, but you’d shared something deeper than anything physical. It was in how his hand found yours under the dinner table.

It was in how you brushed his hair from his face when he fell asleep on your bed. It was in the unspoken understanding that neither of you wanted to leave each other. You were his peace. And he was the part of you that had always been missing.

Both of you became comfortable with each other, that your routine had also become his. Every moment of your lonely life had become something great. All the loneliness had just vanished, just because of him. You don't even know how you could go back to how it was—how everything was before him.

“You’re tense,” he murmured once, brushing his lips against your temple. “That guy bothering you again?” “No. Just… school.” You didn’t want to worry him about your thoughts. You didn’t want to admit how scared you were about him leaving you, and there wasn’t a guarantee that he wouldn’t vanish into thin air in a matter of seconds. So rather, you pushed your thoughts away like you seem to do in the last few weeks and started focusing on him.

He didn't believe you, but he let it go since he came to understand that sometimes you need time to process things on your own—then you would talk to him about it. Like you had done over the past weeks.

Once, while you were studying, he reached out and tucked your hair behind your ear. Like the way they do it in the romcoms. His face was right in front of you. So close that you could see how beautiful he was up front. In person. You didn't move, too afraid that this moment might shift if you did. And you didn't want anything to change. Everything was perfect like you always imagined. “I could stay here,” he said softly. “I mean it.”

You wanted to believe his words so bad. Believing them meant that you could live happy for the rest of your life.

Instead, you whispered, “Do you think you’re real?” Jason’s eyes softened. His thumb traced over your knuckles. “You feel real to me.”

That's all you needed to fall in love with him over and over again. Sure, you had fallen for him over the years, but he was here. As a person that you could speak to, feel, and have. He was truly your person that you wanted to grow old with, experience everything with—every failure, every emotion, as long as you did it with him by your side. As long as he stayed by your side.

—

And then, the next morning— You woke up all alone. The other side of your bed was cold. No boots by the door. No Red Hood helmet on your desk. No Jason. Just your room being lonely as always. Just your mess of sketchbooks filled with his face. Just your heart breaking in a matter of seconds. Because you had to face the truth somehow: You never introduced him to anyone, you never had taken him to your school, you never had the chance to tell him he was the only one for you. Because he was never real and never yours in the first place.

And now you walk through your days with a silence no one hears, with answers you never will get. And a name you will whisper into your pillow like maybe, somehow—he is still listening to you. That maybe all of this is a cruel joke. That maybe this is a dream and not the one where you had him. Almost had him to yourself.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dear Y/N

My dearest beloved,

My love for you is all consuming. You are mine. And mine alone. I yearn for your touch, your presence. The sound of your voice brings me more joy than anything in this world. No one can understand the depths of my devotion, my obsession for you. The thought of you in another's arms or even just their presence fills me with a primal, dark jealousy. You are mine, body, and soul. I would do anything for you, anything to keep you by my side. I would bathe in the blood of a thousand enemies if that is what it takes to protect you. My love for you is not just passionate. It is possessive. The thought of anyone else claiming you stirs something in me an anger that is like a tidal wave, drowning out any rational thought. It is not mere devotion, it it obsession, a need that runs so deep that I cannot separate it from myself.

Every moment apart from you is an eternity of torment. The very air feels as if it is suffocating me, as if it is mocking my lack of your presence. I dream of you, my love. Of your body, your scent, the small noises you make when you sleep. You are my obsession, my drug, and I will do whatever it takes to keep you close to me. I know that my feelings may seem dark, may seem obsessive, and unhinged even. But that is the power you have over me. You have driven me to the brink of insanity, and I do not care. I would happily lose myself in you, my beloved. No one will take you away from me, not a soul, not even death itself could tear me from your side. You are embedded in my very being now, an essential part of me. My world revolves around you. Everything I do, every thought I have, is focused on you and you alone. You are my obsession, my addiction, my reason for existence. I will fight for you, protect you, and do whatever it takes to keep your love. Even if it means sacrificing my own soul. I know that I sound like a madman, possessed by love. And perhaps I am. But I care not. I would rather be driven to the brink of madness by you than feel nothing at all. My love for you is wild, untamed, and uncontrollable. And I would not have it any other way. My heart, mind, and soul belong to you, and only you.

So say what you will, darling. Call me crazy, call me obsessive. But I am and always will be, hopelessly and desperately in love with you. I would burn down the world itself if it meant keeping you by my side. You have set me ablaze, and I will happily let myself burn for you. Until the end of time, I will adore you, protect you, and worship you. I am yours, forever and always. No matter what may come, my love for you will remain unshakeable. My devotion to you is unbreakable, and nothing in this world can tear us apart. Remember this, my love, as you go about your day. Know that I am thinking only of you, that my every thought is consumed by you. My heart beats solely for you, and my soul is inextricably intertwined with your own. You are my world, my reason for living. And I will do anything, ANYTHING, to keep you close. So, my darling, embrace my obsession, my devotion, and let it fill your heart with the knowledge that you are the sole focus of my existence. I am utterly, irrevocably, and completely smitten with you.

And to hell with anyone who doubts the strength of our connection. The world may see me as a madman, obsessed, and possessed, but I do not care. As long as I have you, everything else is irrelevant. My love for you is the only truth I need. So, my dear, cherish every moment we spend together because there is no force in this world that can tear us apart. For the love I feel for you, my darling, is a love so intense that it transcends all boundaries, all logic, and all reason. It is a love that knows no limits, no end, and no bounds. It is a love that will follow you to the very depths of hell and beyond.

With all the love in this world,

Yours eternally, Dwayne

P.S. I'm watching you.

[psychiatry-and-poetry]

#143 - Letter #3

My Dearest [name],

“Write to me, or I shall go mad,” wrote Franz Kafka to his fiancée Felice. Write to me so that I may have something to look forward to, something else I can distract myself with as the world around us crumbles to pieces. Awaiting a letter from you will ensure that I do not contemplate what it would feel like to leap off of a cliff every minute of every day. It will give me purpose, as you give me purpose and a reason to stay. When you are in my life, I cannot think of leaving this world. 

Perhaps more than you realise and more often than you think, you are on my mind always. Even when everything feels bleak, even as I sit, exhausted, or lie, pondering at night about everything and nothing all at once, you creep quietly and gracefully into my mind like a presence who calls it home; like you have always belonged. Not haunting, not in a way that feels forced, but naturally as if you were meant to be there. I get this feeling, this odd nostalgia in me, not just in my head, but in my heart; my very soul and being.

I read once that it is a privilege to yearn, to long for memories long-forgotten. I do not remember when I read it, only that when I did, it did not make sense. How could it, when the memories branded into my skull are usually the ones I most wish to forget?

Now, I understand it. I understand it all. It is indeed a privilege to know you. Not only in this lifetime, but in all others. I refuse to believe that there has ever been a world where we did not meet and where our interactions were filled with anything but love for the other. I will not accept it. Perhaps that is what I have been remembering, perhaps that is why my soul wishes to reconnect with yours: we have met so often in every lifetime I am tied to you, and you are tied to me. Inseparable and so tangled in each other, it would be impossible to pry us apart without breaking the other.

That could be a reason as to why I have been getting restless these past few weeks; without talking to you, holding you, simply being in your presence. I get fidgety, apprehensive, as I am waiting for a bombshell, a sudden declaration that will shatter the mirage having been built around me. As if my body knows more than my mind that the only person who can calm the storm in me is you. The best, or perhaps worst part (I have not yet decided), is that you do not even know.

But what I do want you to know is that even as the Earth trembles and finally shatters apart, your light will become an eternal beacon, guiding me, helping me, singing to me, saving me. I will follow it blindly as I have followed you, for I know you will never lead me astray.

And so my dear, I ask you one more time before my pen leaves the paper, write to me, or I shall go mad.

Eternally in waiting,

A friend who longs for you.

P.S. It seems fitting that my 143rd piece of writing has coincidentally been addressed to you.

masterlist

[insidemyrottenbrain]

First dinner with Henry after a long long time

Finding out why he has been searching for you all these years

And what he wants now

Years later - 2

Henry Marchbanks Winter x GN!Reader

Continuation at the request of my dearest anonymous

Out of guilt and dread you end up leaving Vermont and building a new life. Just as you thought you escaped your past, you once again find yourself in its grasp.

Henry ended up inviting me to dinner, insisting that he had a nice place in the middle of London. It was strange not only because of the rapidness with which he managed to obtain such a place but also because it was deeply uncharacteristic of him to own one in the city’s storm eye. Contradicting my rational thoughts not to go, I accepted the invitation to a promising home-cooked meal.

That is why I now stand at the candle-lit dinner table in his scarcely furnished flat, idly sipping from one of the two glasses filled with the white wine I had brought and had been saving for a special occasion. I watch Henry move around the kitchen as if he hasn’t aged a single day, with the same self-awareness of an old ballerina. Being alone with my thoughts more often than not brings certain things to light. My attention is now enraptured by the reality that I am fighting a losing battle with my yearning for He who never once ceased to infect my mind and torture my soul. 

Henry’s lips gently tug at me by rolling my name off his tongue and he pulls me back to reality by setting two dishes on the table. ‘You seem to be devoured by your thoughts, cupitus.’

‘I didn’t know you cooked.’ I remark as he finds his place on the chair opposite to mine.

‘It is a fairly new development.’ Henry nods. ‘Please, tell me how you find it.’

I pick up what looks like a succulent bite along with some garnish, and eat it. The flavours bless my taste buds.

‘You once again meet my great expectations, Henry. Is there anything in which you don’t excel?’ I half-smirk at him out of habit. I should have expected him to be good even at mundane things such as cooking.

There is a silence. I can feel the atmosphere in the room change into something thicker, more suffocating. Henry seems to be weighing down his words, utterly torn between them. He takes a deep breath as if to steady himself and levels his cold gaze with mine. ‘In existing without you.’ He finally slices through the dense silence. ‘I spiraled into utter madness when you left Vermont. Nothing made sense. I failed to realize how much you influenced my life until your departure.’ He is vigilantly tightening the rosary around my neck.

‘You must understand why I left.’ I say instead of acting on my consuming impulses that beg me to soothe his beating heart.

‘I do.’ Henry nods solemnly. ‘However, knowing the reason for your absence does not bring normality back to me.’

‘Normality is not eternal.’ I say without thinking.

‘It is not.’ He agrees. ‘Regardless, you must be my eternity.’ 

The sentence is so obnoxiously irrational that it has managed to break my whole being, including my equanimity, leaving behind raw emotions on my face. This did not escape Henry’s eyes.

‘I am aware of my thinking’s quixotic nature, yet I fear you must take it as it is.’ He pauses to light up a cigarette. ‘Will you come back to Vermont with me?’

‘No, I-’

‘Then I shall stay here with you.’ He interrupts not wanting to deal with anything that might be in antithesis to his wishes. Once he sees I remained quiet he takes a drag from his cigarette and speaks again. ‘The matter of location is settled then.’

‘I suppose so.’ There is no point in disagreeing with him. I pick up my fork, remembering the food in front of me. We eat in silence, while he finishes his cigarette and lights a second.

‘Let us move on to the matter of our relationship.’ Henry gets up and slowly moves towards the balcony, an unspoken order for me to follow. My feet move on their own accord and I end up by his side.

The city is breathing. It incorporates everyone, blurring mismatched stories and human lives together into one single homogenous mix of souls, yet somehow omitting us. We stand above it, two mortals playing Gods, overlooking a sea of indistinguishable humanity while we ourselves are an obscure pair of animae, strangled and twisted around each other far above recognition. I now understand that he is here because of my holy chains spiraled around him, constantly tugging and demanding his devotion, forbidding him from developing any organized thought or rational emotion. We endlessly torment each other with separation until our transit existences are nothing but purgatory.

I take the cigarette from his lips and bring it to mine, then let its remains fall below. I allow the warm smoke to escape my lungs and brush against his face. Henry desperately inhales it like oxygen.

‘I missed you.’ He whispers, vulnerability clear in his eyes.

I smile at the sight of which I never even dreamed and once again, after countless years, lock my breath and limbs with Henry’s.

[max1461]

Manifesto of the Hallwayists

We have to replace everything with hallways. If a guy walks somewhere and he takes too long, you see, if he takes a detour, that's a problem. Because he could have spent that time working to Advance Humanity and reduce suffering, but instead he spent it taking a detour. "It's only a few minutes, it's no big deal" you say. Well, when millions of people are taking detours, every day, for decades and decades, that time adds up. Millions of man-hours. Man-hours that could have been spent advancing medicine, curing cancer. People are dying, you see, dying because we allowed those detours. So we should replace all the space with hallways that take the shortest path between locations. The shortest path between your quarters and the office, between where you are and where you need to be. Anything less is letting people suffer, and die. Letting an innocent child die in its mother's arms. Is that what you want?

You yearn for a life of aristocratic leisure, you opponent of the hallway-world, while I yearn for justice. For the wellbeing of humanity.

Some say we should lay out the hallways by central committee. Others think the free market lays hallways best. Some think a hallway-building AI might be the way to go. I'm not quite decided yet, there are a lot of factors to consider. Reasonable disagreement by reasonable minds, to be sure.

Minds... god I love minds. In the hallway world there will be no more things to worry about. Only minds. I love minds.

"But", you say, "people won't like living in hallways!"

Regressives. Reactionaries. Small minded savages, or petite bourgeois enemies of mankind. One of the two.

The smart people, the kind people, the people who don't want to see even one more child die in its mother's arms... they'll understand. I'll explain to them that hallways are the Rational Choice, and being kind and rational people they will understand. They will stop wanting irrational things, like parks and flowers, and aimless walks through the city... evil things, vile things. Things that take time and space and resources away from what really matters. From Doing Good.

I hate to say this, for I am a deep and abiding pacifist and a lover of mankind, but if there is anything that inspires in me the desire to kill, to cleanse, it is these vile things. Parks and flowers and aimless walks through the city. When I think about them I shed a tear. I shed a tear for the children dying, the mothers weeping. And I am filled, much unlike me, with a passion for destruction. Destruction of these evil vile things. Obliteration of this retched disorder that holds us back. One day, I hope, I dream, the world will be good. This awful yoke of chaos under which humanity finds itself will be shed. The world will be beautiful. The world will be free. The world will be hallways.

[themusedump]

The Horror And The Wild - a sentence meme from The Amazing Devil's 2020 album The Horror And The Wild. Feel free to adjust as needed!

The Rockrose And The Thistle

"I know the kindest thing is to leave you alone."

"I've run out of my words, my song."

"Just let me die."

"I could try to calm you down but I know you won't."

"And you'll wail, you'll scream, but I'll never stop 'cause it's all that I have left. "

"I know the kindest thing is to never leave you alone."

The Horror And The Wild

"They said it all comes down to you."

"You are that space that's in between every page, every chord and every screen."

"You are the driftwood and the rift, you're the words that I promise I don't mean."

"We're drunk but drinking."

"They thought us blind."

"Remember me I ask, remember me I sing."

"Give me back my heart you wingless thing."

"Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring."

"You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child."

"I steal the hours and turn the night into day."

"How bold I was, could be - will be - still am, by God still am."

"Remember me I ask."

Wild Blue Yonder

"Without you, I'm stronger."

"How wrong you were."

"You told me I was younger, that I was filled with wonder."

"For you. I would have gone so much blonder."

"So one last time, love, come and rip my clothes off."

"Get a grip, we're grownups."

"Let's wander, till the fuckers demand an encore."

"So hold me, lover, like you used to."

"Every stone you threw, I stood on to better see the view."

"I surrender what was, what could have been."

"Every brick you hurled, I'll use to build this world."

"I'd bruise you."

Welly Boots

"A storm is coming on."

"What do you mean you've lost your scarlet welly boots?"

"Do y'know what they cost?"

"Wear a raincoat or it'll soak you to the bone."

"It's just like falling snow, I am above you and I love you."

"Don't you know that I'll be with you all along, as long as you are kind?"

"'Cause when it's cold, I'll wrap my scarf around you."

"Just because I left doesn't mean that I'm not still there."

"I get to watch you grow up now and make me proud."

"Get drunk for me, sing louder than you've sung for me."

"'Cause you were always strong."

"When you were young, you'd kick things just to see if they would fall."

"That girl, she's wrong"

"I'll stick up for you, even though you haven't got a clue."

"You haven't got a fucking clue."

"And I'm so proud of you."

"I'm not alright!"

"You were supposed to be my light and keep me safe against them all!"

"How could you leave me here!?"

"I know you're strong enough to do this on your own."

"I've been so scared."

"You left me here behind, do you not care?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to carry on without you here?"

Farewell Wanderlust

"You look like I need a drink."

"And you are?"

"I'm the hardest goodbye that you'll ever have to say."

"I promise you I'll be better."

"I promise you I'll try."

"It's my curse to try and make it right, but by trying make it worse."

"You brought me to this party but you left me here behind."

"So long to the person you begged me to be."

"You gave us such a fright. We'd hate to see your mascara drip into your pint."

"Let's take this outside 'cause we're one and the same."

"Our gods have abandoned us, left us."

"Take up arms, take my hand, let us waltz for the dead."

"I promise you I'm not broken."

"I promise you there's more. "

"Goodbye to all my darkness, there's nothing here but light."

"Adieu to all the faceless things that sleep with me at night."

"You brought me through this darkness but you left me here behind."

"Now take a good long look at what you've done to me!"

Fair

"It's what my heart just yearns to say in ways that can't be said."

"Today I somehow understand the reason I was born."

"I try so hard to make you laugh at me."

"Oh, darling, please be mine."

"It's not fair how much I love you."

"It's not fair, 'cause you make me laugh when I'm actually really fucking cross at you for something."

"How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do."

"I spend my days so close to you 'cause if I'm standing here, maybe everyone will think I'm alright."

"I know exactly what I want and it's this life that we've created."

"And if you asked me to, if you asked me, I would lose it all."

"Christ, you'll be the death of me."

"I'll spend my days so close to you 'cause if I'm standing here maybe everyone will think I'm cool."

"Where have you been?"

"It's not fair 'cause you make me ache, you bastard."

"I'll stand here with you."

That Unwanted Animal

"There's a second wind coming."

"You try so loud to love me. I cannot seem to hear."

"Can't you hear that scratching? There's something at the door."

"Be good to me."

"Can't you hear it?"

"What's the time Mr .Wolf?"

Marbles

"You couldn't lie then and you sure as hell can't lie to me now."

"You stole the best years of my life."

"Do you think I'm sexy?"

"If one more guy calls me darling then I swear to you and to God I will murder them all."

"All the bastards applaud when I show that I'm flawed."

"You're not flawed darling, you're just a little under-rehearsed."

"I don't know, but I'm here."

"I've loved you, for a hundred years."

"Certainly fucking feels like it."

"The minute I met you, the colours of my life began to pour."

"I'm scared of the dark."

"And now, even though you're mad and these memories won't stay. That's okay."

"'Cause then I get to meet you for the first time every single day."

"And I will wait and hope."

Battle Cries

"I'm at the brink, don't laugh."

"And that drink, will it fix all those questions unasked?"

"Who'll save you when you fall?"

"Who died and made you king of it all?"

"Who wins this war?"

"Now the wind feels so warm on the back of my neck."

"Don't be uncouth, be a man."

"Tell the truth to me, love, does my hair look as nice?"

"Don't lie with your eyes, you know I despise that look."

"I know that I've been through the wars."

"With you, I could summon the gods and the stars."

"I won't leave without a fight."

"I won't let you turn our last night into this."

[real-total-drama-takes]

I understand the Gwen and Courtney ship now- I am so sorry lesbians- I am sorry I didn't see it or compute it right away- I had a conversation with my cousin who is the Gwuncan shipper we both agree the Gwen and Courtney ship very cute, very angsty, and full yearning of long centuries like these women be queer months ago-

I kept refusing to admit I was gay or queer for years even months ago then I had talk allowed about the Gwourtney ship with my favorite cousin of all time and I realized I was like oh- oh- OH!!!

OH FUCK- A BITCH BE GAY- ME- I UNDERSTAND NOW...

I think it's more happy little accident sometimes shipping two funny little cartoons and talking about it make you realize it ok to be gay or more!

This was in my stomach for months- felt not gay enough or normal enough ever because I thought lesbians were nature and my family was like no-no- no don't do that.

It's my favorite word honestly in Spanish now I am realizing they limited me to believe in something they were uncomfortable with me "being" or anyone around me being.

I try to stand up more not only for lesbians in my life but in general- sometimes we can change the subject when someone is on purpose transphobic or more in life. Like if you don't know how to use pronouns out the respect least have the human decency to use their name, okay?

I don't care if their trans, don't say that in general around me because you are dehumanizing them, and I am losing respect in the humanity I thought you had then walk away.

Or go I feel like you don't value me because your homophobic remarks so from now on when you don't respect my sexuality or tend to demonize me for not being straight like you wanted, I am now on creating space for me to grow without you, I don't want leave you out my life but I think it's best for both us to part ways for now for my feelings and safety.

Sometimes I believe we need to have moments with each other to be "real" aka sometimes talk to each other with respect even if we don't see each other often in the fandom like I don't think Gwuncan romanticize ship is good for me or my soul but I was make seem I don't care for it at all back then and only hated them for the said ship.

I value the ships now a bit more- for some reason if I love you and it meant nothing to me but it brings you value in your life it brings value to me... it means the world to me.

I mean we can still hate things but like don't take on your fellow man? Write it out in a shitty fanfic like I do or I don't know just work through the emotions.

I felt guilt because I tend shit on Gwuncan and didn't under Gwourtney because I honestly didn't see the potient of it happening years ago but now I see it's value.

It's value to someone I love it means the world to me and for her it brought her sense peace, reminder of our childhood, and loving memories silly childish hatred of Duncan but it was ability to know it was child crush and trying to act like these silly dumb cartoons as children...

Then crying over Gwen or Courtney never winning because here in America- I believe we got the endings of only the men winning sadly or made seemed Courtney was just straight up a hater for life- we didn't all full details over here!

Anyway- I am sorry dear lesbians and trans people due to my past and being raised in hate- it helps me a lot being in this fandom or reading your post/ fanfiction to be more comfortable in life in general.

I think I like girls now- well, being comfort with liking them in general without being so hard on myself or them- like slowly okay to leave the closet now even though I am hella scared- I am willing to risk my "spot" in the family or whatever they told me growing up~

But you go girls! Be gay or what not! Conquer the steam/STEM CAREERS~

WORLD WILL BEND TO YOUR KNEES LOL

oH YEAH BASICALLY you write your fanfics no matter what or how silly it is- it's important someone out there!

Be fluffy or horror filled if you need it for the plot too

Also, I need work on writing the TD girls and ladies better like more in general- she can live without a man! I swear she can, but I crave romance and stupid rom-coms I grew up with!

[firenati0n]

y'all it is 5:10am, but stay with me for a second, okay?

apologies and bear with me for being embarrassing and effusive and gushy on main yet fucking again (i cannot be helped!) but I had just the most utterly garbage day connected to a particulary shitty week [insert "lemon, it's wednesday" gif here] and I was just feeling very out of sorts for a myriad of personal reasons and decided to read (and subsequently reread) a fic by the lovely @myheartalivewrites called Paper Chains.

I had been saving this specific fic for a day I was feeling low and needed some real pining longing yearning slow burn (yeehaw!). That day arrived. Here I am.

When I tell you...my ass has been thinking about this fic on loop. I need all 25k words tattooed behind my eyelids. I reread it about half an hour ago with ugly anime-worthy tears streaming down my face. I felt a bruise and crack very deep in my heart start to heal over. I cannot tell you why, for I do not understand it myself. All I know is that when I started reading, my chest hurt in the worst way possible, and now it hurts in the best way possible. So now I'm the town crier, here to tell you to go read it if you haven't. And if you have, go reread it.

Everyone go read Paper Chains right the fuck now. Go!!! And then report back to me for screaming purposes. I'll be here. 💛

p.s. the fic also features and links some truly wonderful art by @lizzie-bennetdarcy (that you can find here and here, for starters...I won't spoil the fic one!!). A delightful addition to the experience. Big fan of your work always!! ❤️❤️❤️

I will always be in awe of artists and writers and creators—you pour SO MUCH of yourselves, hearts and souls and all, into your work. When I consume it, my cup fills yet again. Thank you! A privilege, as always.

[noctisday]

Unleashing the Celestial

"Sire?"

Oberon hadn't even realized he stopped walking. He had been touring the gardens, making sure everything was still alive and thriving despite not having very much of his energy to feed off of. He wasn't overly worried, some of these blooms were hundreds of years old at this point, surviving just fine. But he had been restless today, something felt.... Off, so he looked for a meaningless distraction despite the pit in his stomach growing larger by the hour.

Until he came to a stop, eyes staring off at nothingness and a hand gripping the smooth blackthorn cane until his knuckles turned white, his heart fluttering in his chest like that of a butterfly on its last breath.

"Sire."

Molten gold eyes snapped to the guard who was accompanying him as he inhaled sharply, breaking whatever hold had come over him. No, he knew something was terribly, terribly wrong. Immediately his mind was moving quickly, sorting over the possibilities, the reasons, and the, however unfortunate, opportunities. Turning swiftly he barked commands as he stalked down the hall. There were preparations that needed to be tended to if he was accelerating the plan. A portion of the vault was to be cleared, a room set up for healing on the far side of the palace, or even find a new location for it all together. Word must be sent to the Sun court, Lady Day had the best healers.

"I am going to the human realm alone."

"Wh-My Lord?!" The guard had kept up with him but was startled by the statement, no, the order. "Please, it is still winter, take at least a couple gu-"

"No. That's final." The growl made the guard take a step back. He hadn't seen his king this angry in a long time, not since the prince had returned. But he bowed his head, not daring to retaliate further, when he straightened, his King was already gone to the other side.

Oberon didn't even bother to change into suit he normally wore to blend in with mortals. If all went well, he wouldn't be here long anyway and he had chosen a secluded place far from the city where he normally visited his son. His gaze lingered on the distant lights, the snow falling slowly, peacefully around him unbothered by how his throat wasn't closing with trepidation. There was one individual his son spoke of many times, well, two. And they were the ones that he had contemplated drawing the attention of numerous times. Problem was, he was not overly sure how to do so. He was not his son, after all, and he was no fool to think that friends of his would answer his father. Nor did he have the power to simply snap his fingers and attempt to draw them here, not that he would.

From his understanding, these beings were no fae under his command, nor were they simple humans. There were something else entirely, something that had to be dealt with carefully, tenderly, like a flower bloomed too late only to be met with the harsh frost. One wrong move, one wrong tone, could make the petals shatter.

But he had to try something. Anything.

And if the great Seelie King was going to kneel down and offer a favor to someone, he wasn't going to let even his closest guards bear witness. One simply did not find themselves having a debt from a fae often, let alone a Royal. He wasn't even sure what realm they resided in, as it didn't seem like it was either the human or the Other, but words and names held power. He above most was ancient enough to know that, so as he turned his eyes to the clouded night, he could only hope this would work.

His voice boomed into the snow-filled darkness, frozen flakes swirling around, agitated by the sudden noise. A voice that echoed but would fall on no ones ears but, hopefully, the one he yearned for.

"I call upon the one who bleeds stardust, with eyes of novas heat. The one who fills his lungs with the fury of galaxies, irradiated with suns, a magician who plucks the threads of cosmic nebulae and its many planets as easily as if it was his personal lyre. The ancient one born of destruction and existing in the folds of war. I call upon the Child of the Abyssal Sky to hear my plea, Doomstar."

@doomstarmagician

[meowcats734]

[Soulmage] Some dragons are much too small to ride, so they're treated more like a dog. But then some are so small that they actually make a pretty effective weapon.

The hearth dragons were out in flocks tonight, gamboling beneath a cloudless moon. I clambered up the rickety, icy footholds that Lucet had made for me, plopping down on the bell tower balcony and lying down face-up to catch my breath.

Lucet's shyly smiling face peeked over mine, blotting out the moon. The distant shadows of hearth dragons crisscrossed behind her long, flowing hair like acrobats behind a curtain. A show without an audience. "Sorry about the climb," Lucet said. She straightened up, then laid down next to me, gazing up at the moon. "I usually come up here when I want to be alone. If the path wasn't difficult, it wouldn't be my sanctuary."

"Doesn't seem so difficult for these guys," I said, pointing up at the hearth dragons. The gentle snowfall kicked up as the breeze momentarily intensified, and in the flurry, it was impossible to tell living, willful bodies from helpless flakes caught in the wind.

The gale died down, and Lucet said, "They have freedom. They have it easy."

Another man would have reached out to touch her, to kiss her words into anxious mumbles, to slip a hand where it wasn't wanted and tell her that this was what she needed. Another man was the reason the only place Lucet could find peace was at the top of an empty clock tower beneath the silent eye of the moon.

I said and did nothing as the dragons wheeled overhead.

Eventually, I broke the comfortable silence to say the words that needed to be spoken. "You could leave him," I said.

Lucet nodded. "I could."

"Will you?"

She let out a frustrated breath. "It's not that easy. You wouldn't understand." She paused, then stood. "Although... Here. Let me show you something." She reached inside her pocket for a twist of frozen meat and stood. Curious, I sat up, watching her. She let out a piercing whistle and held up the bait.

Soon enough, a smaller hearth dragon—about the size of a gremsquirrel or a glowpup—circled down lower, enticed enough by her offer to get sucked into her orbit.

"Here, girl. Good girl. You're beautiful, you know that? I've never seen anyone like you. You're wonderful. I love you. Come here," she cooed reassuringly, clicking her tongue as the hearth dragon drew closer.

The hearth dragon landed, its signature warmth filling the room as it perched on the railing. Lucet held out the treat, and the hearth dragon's neck stretched out, yearning to take a bite—

Her hand was a blur. I barely registered what happened before she slapped the hearth dragon onto the floor, dazing it as its tough-armored body bounced off the floor. "Look what you made me do! Did I say you could eat that? You hate me! You're a whore and a slut and you hate me! Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

The unfortunate dragon tried to flap its wings, but in a flash, Lucet's tone changed once more, back to the reassuring croon as she cradled the hearth dragon in her arms. "Shh, shh, shh, it's okay, it's okay. I've got you. I'm going to take care of you. See? You can have a treat, for being so good." She fed the little meat twist to the hearth dragon, and the poor hungry thing gobbled it up. "I love you, sweetie. Don't you ever forget it."

Then both the fury and the falsehoods sloughed off her expression, and she set the dragon down, grim-faced.

It stared at her, confused, not knowing whether to expect another blow or a reward.

"That's what it's like," she said. "With him."

I could see the sticky black thorns around her soul, the same ones that ringed mine, and I simply said, "I'm sorry."

Her expression shifted into the weak, frozen body of what had once been a smile. "So am I."

She knelt down by the hearth drake and helped it up.

"Sorry," she repeated, to the hearth drake this time. "I... I'm just a mess. I just had to get... I just had to get it off my chest."

The hearth drake stood, its armored body unharmed from its tumble, and took off into the sky. In a week, it would be more focused on its next meal than remembering that any of this had ever happened.

We were not so lucky.

She sat down on the railing, legs dangling off the edge. After a moment, she brushed off the snow beside her, patting it in a wordless invitation.

We sat there together, two children on the edge of the world, as toothless dragons flew overhead.

"Not all dragons would have taken that well," I said. "I mean, hearth dragons are fairly harmless, but others... they're practically living weapons. A riftmaw would have sent you running for your life."

"So which am I?" Lucet's eyes crinkled. "The riftmaw or the hearth dragon?"

"You're whatever you want to be," I said. "They cannot take this from you."

Lucet looked away, and with a spell of sorrow and frost, her tears blended right in with the falling snow.

Then she turned back to me and leaned on my shoulder.

After a heartbeat, I leaned back on her.

And we watched the peaceful dragons soar, circling beneath a silent moon.

A.N.

Soulmage is a serial written in response to writing prompts. Stick around for more episodes, or join my Discord to chat about it!

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[ladysmoke7]

I remember years ago, you and I had our own little world. A bubble. 🫧 That could so easily be popped. But we lived in it. All day. All night. Rest was on the back burner. Wasn't important. Our time together, was. In secret, in public, we gave each other all we had. All our time.

A moments notice. A whim. A brief flicker of an idea or thought. A trigger. And that's all it took for us to reinflate our bubble. 🫧

I can close my eyes- even though it was so long ago-and vividly remember the scenes. The lighting. The laughter and crying. The solemn silence. It was only a moment ago. To me.

Today, feels so different. In our age, our lifestyles and character changes. The scenery is different. We are different. But I still linger in the past, all the time. Delusional in thinking that's enough.

Now I'm stuck in an endless cycle. Of huffing and puffing, like a big bad children's book wolf. Desperate to go back.

But you're never there with me. Not for long. Not often. Hardly at all. I'm screaming inside. Begging for attention. Craving another soul to share my space with. Your soul. But to you- feels only like convenience. Time is an illusion, yet there's never enough for me. I'm a glutton. And you give excuses.

If they wanted to, they would. That's the reality. But you're different. It's different with you. Right? You're the exception. That's what you make me believe. In a world so black and white. They're right. Yet you show me the entire color spectrum. For which I need glasses to appreciate. I believe my prescription has changed. Must be age.

You sing my praise and say those sweet-sweet things. Those sweet nothings.

And I fall again and again, believing that- that's just how things are now. It's enough. It has to be. Because that's it, and all there is for you to give. And I'm struggling every day with it. It's easy, passable, I can swallow most of it. Sometimes I'm choking. Gagging and becoming revolted.

I get jealous. So very jealous. I get hurt. My own fault. I want to much. I feel to much. I see them. I see you. I want that. I see others and their bubble partners. I want that. Why is my bubble partner so far away ..all the time.

Even after I've spoken my truths. My desires and fires. Time and time again. Year after year. You nod and say you understand. But do you? I tell you my exact words, you write them down, and still give me the opposite of what I inquire of.

My sights and thoughts are filled with you in other people's bubbles. Others coming into your bubble. Where I yearn to be. As I was before.

I know how to love myself. I know what respect looks like mentally. No one would willing set their hearts and minds ablaze for no reason. Yet I find myself, again and again, begging for you to just ...listen. To prove everything. Your sweet nothings.

Your sugary glaze eventually flakes. And the warm feeling turns bitter and cold. You cast a spell, and I succumb to it every time. It erases all my negative emotions. Just a glance, to hear you, to touch you, and like that- it's all in my head. It was all worth it.

Keeping my bubble empty for the day you return. For the day you invite me back. Once in a blue moon. I recover and I'm floating for days.

I wonder, when will it stop. The endless cycle. When will I accept fate. And invite peace into my heart. When will finally process how- to process.

I deserve better

I deserve you

The ghost of you. Your void to which I throw my whole being into. For a hope of a prayer something will come back to me. For when you remember my existence. When it's convenient. When other people are not immediately in field of vision. Your new infatuations. Hyper fixations.

Was I once such a thing? Will everyone feel what I feel eventually too? Or am I just special? I must be overthinking, as always. Always my fault. My soul edging for self destruction. Bringing non fiction angst into my aggression.

Your soul and thoughts - always pure. Innocent.

Mine are burning. Invisible flames. Can you see them? Or do you choose not to. Is it easier? How can I learn such blindness.

I will wait. And continue to do so. That's all I know how to do. To stay a prisoner to my own demons. For a little while longer. Until ..-

I'll get over it. I always do. Because the fantasy and escape you provide, is my kryptonite.

Unfortunately, I just haven't figured out which color.

[rozieramati]

11/27/23

i miss having someone to write to. or maybe i miss having someone to write about? it's both. texting had become my modern-day version of letter writing in a way. for a time, i could fill my day coming up with clever musings for my favorite person. what i understand now is that anyone can be my favorite person. it's just a matter of me choosing and devoting myself to them fully. i know how to make myself obsessed. but the pain is too much for me to do so without reason. the last time i did it was to write my album. the next time i do it will be for the same.

i could keep writing and make myself cry if i wanted to. i could.

the truth is i've become incredibly numb to attachment in all forms. there's not much one can do to make me attach myself to them because i have found complete, and i mean absolute complete, fulfillment on my own. i could spend years with very little, with my mind, art, and nature alone and be fulfilled. so long as i can think and create i am okay. i can even conjure an imaginary person to write to. i've done it before. their name was river. i haven't written them in a while.

i miss the blank page you let me write on. i miss your dry humor that you followed up with incredulous sweetness. i miss the contradictions in your character. i miss the hand you held out for me. i'm crying now. i miss the words i could shape for you. the words i could send to you. the words we shared and left in a thread for us both to cradle before we fell asleep. no one's come close to that. to what that was. but i made it so. i wanted to know what it was like to devote myself, and i came to find the horror and the sublime in the answer.

love is tragedy and doesn't really last. how could it? nothing special really lasts. that's why it's special. that's why we remember it forever.

i'm still young. i know nothing. i'll find this a while down the line and laugh at my naivety.

i hope.

that would be the best truth, to know that i was wrong about love. i'm so impossibly convinced it's never a beauty i can catch. it'll only flutter past my ear every now and then, like a blind butterfly. never to hold, only to mistakenly bump into my flesh and tickle me until i laugh into a sickness. that's what love is to me right now. and so i hope i'm wrong.

there's moments like today when i'm slapped in the face with yearning once again. there are triggers. they are people. and i cannot avoid them. it's my duty to distance myself from my pain when it may interfere with the art. strange, i know, because most would assume the pain is what makes the art so great. and while that is true, it's also true that too much indulgence in pain prevents from art being made at all.