#My friend said that it might be because of teenager things

[uniquexusposts]

Driver of the day | C. Leclerc

Summary: Charles is asked to pick up the little sister of his best friend at the airport.

Charles Leclerc drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, his sunglasses shielding him from the Riviera's afternoon sun. Theo, one of his best friends, sat beside him, scrolling through his phone with a bored expression, occasionally glancing up at the chaos of Nice Airport’s Kiss and Ride.

“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” Theo asked, flicking through his notifications. “There are better things to do than standing here unnecessarily long.”

“Because her brother asked,” Charles replied without looking over.

Theo snorted. “Right, and when he asks, you jump. Got it.”

Charles didn’t bother responding, his attention shifting to the waiting crowd. “He said she would be standing near the main pickup area.”

Theo squinted through the windshield, his eyes scanning the line of travellers, some were leaving, others arrived. “What does she even look like now? It’s been, what, four years?”

Charles shrugged. “Same as before, I guess. Short, shy, always in oversized dresses or black clothing...”

“And braces,” Theo added with a grin. “Don’t forget the braces.”

They both laughed, their shared image of Y/n frozen in the awkward teenage years when they teased her relentlessly. But then Theo straightened, leaning closer to the window. “Wait... oh, shit, is that her?”

Charles frowned, following Theo’s gaze. His grip on the wheel loosened as his eyes landed on a woman standing by a suitcase. She was polished, confident, elegant, and nothing like the Y/n they remembered. “Holy shit, indeed,” he muttered.

Theo leaned back, shaking his head in disbelief. “No way. That’s not her. That’s... someone else. Has to be.”

“She’s standing exactly where your brother said she would be,” Charles said, his voice quieter now.

Theo grinned, recovering quickly. “Well, if it’s not her, at least we are about to make a stranger’s day.” He rolled down the window and leaned out, his smirk wide. “Need a taxi to Monaco?”

The woman turned toward them, and her expression shifted from confusion to surprise to annoyance as recognition flickered across her face.

“Yep, that’s her,” Charles said under his breath, pulling the car into park and stepping out.

Y/n’s voice carried as she looked at them. “What are you two doing here? Where’s my brother?”

Charles grinned, slipping his sunglasses up onto his head. “Something came up. He sent us instead.”

Theo was already out of the car, circling to grab her suitcase. “And lucky for us, too. Although... we almost didn’t recognise you.”

Charles nodded, his grin turning a touch softer as he studied her. “We were expecting the old Y/n.”

“The braces. The dresses,” Theo chimed in, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

“Not... this,” Charles finished, gesturing toward her with a vague wave of his hand.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her tone sharp. “This?”

Theo smirked. “You know, the whole ‘looking like you just walked off a runway’ thing.”

Charles chuckled as he opened the back door for her. “Ignore him. He’s not used to surprises.”

Y/n sighed, brushing past them to climb into the car. “And I see you two haven’t changed at all.”

Theo hoisted her suitcase into the trunk, laughing. “Still bossy. Yep, it’s definitely her.”

As they returned to the car and Charles merged into traffic, Theo twisted in his seat, looking back at her. “So, what’s Madrid been like? Because, clearly, it did something to you.”

Charles shook his head, his grin lingering as he watched Y/n through the rearview mirror. “Careful, Theo. You might not survive the ride to Monaco if you keep that up.”

Theo and Y/n gasped when Charles braked hard. Y/n’s hand reached for the door for a grip, and her eyes grew round.

“Why is he driving?” She asked.

A grin formed on Theo’s lips. “You know, he needs to practice his normal driving skills in a normal car on a normal road every once in a while.”

“Theo, what the fuck,” Charles replied with an annoyed sigh.

For the first time, a smile formed on Y/n’s lips. “Glad you force him to because I can’t tell this is an F1 driver for Ferrari.”

Laughter from Theo filled the car, even to the point he started to cough and gasp for air. Y/n couldn’t help, but laugh as well, but she silently laughed. It was silent at the driver's side, as Charles didn’t know how to react. However, he could smile at her comment as it made her laugh.

★

The car pulled into the Maison's driveway, the sound of the engine echoing softly through the otherwise peaceful area. As Charles slowed down, Y/n glanced out the window, smiling at the familiar surroundings.

As Charles steered the car to the front door, Theo leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. "Well, this is it.”

Y/n looked at the front door, then around the car and finally at Charles. “You’re really gonna park it like this?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Theo chuckled. "Don’t worry, he’s got normal parking skills." He shot Charles a teasing grin.

Charles muttered something under his breath, his hands tight on the steering wheel as he guided the car into place, clearly trying to ignore the jabs.

Once the car came to a stop, Y/n pushed open the door and stepped out. She grabbed her suitcase from the trunk, still feeling the faint adrenaline buzz from their chaotic drive. “You know,” she said, her smile playful, “you might want to stick to F1 tracks, Charles. You’re scaring the shit out of me.”

Theo’s laughter erupted again, echoing around the driveway. “You should’ve seen her face when he hit the brakes,” he said, his voice nearly cracking with amusement.

Charles rolled his eyes as he exited the car, closing the door behind him. “Very funny,” he muttered.

Y/n turned to face him, a grin still tugging at her lips. “Honestly, I’m just glad I survived that ride. Can’t say the same for my heart, though.”

Charles gave her a sidelong glance, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “If it makes you feel better, you’re not the first person to say that.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood to be your next record,” she replied, still smiling.

“Next time, I’ll make sure you’re in the front seat,” Theo said, his tone mock-serious as he stepped up next to her. “First-row experience.”

“Let’s just get inside,” Charles grumbled, the playful banter finally wearing thin. “I’ll deal with you two later.”

“Ooooooo,” Theo hummed, throwing his hands up.

As they entered the Maison, soft words filled the air. They all walked to the living room, where the words came from. Laurent, Y/n’s brother, was calling. His suit was slightly wrinkled, and his tie was loosened, the telltale signs of a long day at work. He was still in the process of kicking off his shoes when he saw his little sister. A massive smile appeared, and his jaw dropped in excitement. He pointed at his phone and held up his hand, letting them know it would take five minutes. He walked over to Y/n and gave her a hug and a kiss on her hair.

Y/n smiled. Her brother had always been this way: always multitasking and making sure things were in order. It was one of the reasons she admired him so much. She sat down on the couch and looked around. Not much had changed, apart from a few photos and different cushions.

Theo dropped down into one of the armchairs with a sigh. “So, what’s the plan, huh? What do you two want to do first? Tour the place? Hit the beach?”

Charles, who had been quiet while her brother handled the call, shifted his gaze to Y/n. The room felt oddly still for a moment, their shared gaze lingering longer than either of them expected.

Y/n, feeling the weight of the quiet, broke eye contact first and turned to glance at her brother. “Let him finish first, I guess. We’ve got time,” she said lightly, her voice carrying an undertone that belied how restless she felt beneath the surface.

Her brother spoke up, his voice clear despite the distance. “Alright, I’ll be done in a minute. Just trying to sort out a few things. You three get comfortable, help yourselves to whatever’s in the kitchen.”

Charles stood still for a second, the quiet of the moment pressing down on him, and for the first time since they had arrived, he felt the subtle tension that had built between him and Y/n. It was odd, this unspoken thing between them, as if the space in the room was filled with something more than just casual conversation.

He cleared his throat, trying to break the silence. “I’ll grab us a drink. You good with something, Y/n?”

Y/n snapped out of her thoughts, startled by his question. “Uh, yeah, sure. Water’s fine.”

“Water it is,” he replied, the corners of his lips twitching upward.

“I will take a coke, thank you,” Theo ordered and put up his thumb.

Charles sighed and made his way to the kitchen.

As he walked away, Y/n couldn’t help but glance at him again, watching how he moved so effortlessly. It was a quiet observation, nothing too obvious, but enough to make her heart race just a little. He had become more handsome than she remembered.

“So…” Laurent entered the living room again. He fell beside his little sister on the couch and looked at her. “Welcome back, Y/n/n.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and hugged her briefly. “It has been empty here without you.”

Y/n smiled, the familiar warmth of her brother’s presence comforting her. “It’s still home,” she said softly, glancing around the room. Her brother bought this place just before she left for Madrid. She helped him move, but that was all.

“Gonna make sure you’re spoiled during your stay. Got all your favourites lined up, too.”

“Love that.”

“I'm sorry I couldn’t pick you up, but there was a massive accident in Menton. I just arrived back home,” he apologised, feeling bad he couldn’t keep up his promise to pick her up.

“No worries,” she smiled. “It was an… interesting pick-up party.”

Laurent raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Interesting how?”

Y/n chuckled, her eyes glancing over to where Charles and Theo had settled in the room. “Let’s just say I wasn’t expecting to be picked up by an F1 driver and a…,” she paused, looking at Theo with a teasing grin, “...professional passenger.”

Theo let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. “I am not a professional passenger!” He threw his hands up dramatically. “I just prefer to let Charles take the wheel. It’s not my fault he’s too quick to get in and out of trouble.”

Charles, who had been quietly listening, snorted with laughter. “You’re one to talk. You’re just mad because I beat you in the car to Menton the other week.”

Y/n shot them both a playful look. “I’m just glad I’m still alive to tell the tale.”

Charles flashed her a grin. “See? No harm done.”

“Yeah, you say that now.” Y/n crossed her arms, smirking. “You almost gave me a heart attack. I was about to turn into an honorary member of the FIA with that kind of ride.”

Laurent, who was listening to the banter, snickered. “Things haven’t changed, I see. Still bickering like an old married couple.”

“Pff.”

“Shut up.”

“Old married couple,” Theo agreed and sipped from this drink.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “We’re not bickering. I’m just saying Charles could practice more with regular cars. Don’t think Monaco’s tight corners should be his only driving experience.”

Theo burst into laughter, slapping his knee. “Oh, she’s calling you out, Charles. You’ve been called out.”

Charles, trying to keep a straight face, replied, “Okay, okay, maybe I’ll take some tips from the passenger seat next time, just to ensure no one else gets traumatised.”

Y/n gave him a playful side-eye. “Good plan. We’ll be safer that way. I can teach you the tips and tricks.”

The moment was light and familiar—like old times when teasing each other was second nature. Still, as the laughter faded, Y/n couldn’t help but feel something shift in the room. It was subtle, but there was an undeniable weight to the space between her and Charles. Her smile softened as her eyes flicked briefly to him, and she noticed the way his gaze lingered on her before he quickly looked away, his expression unreadable.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313@blodwyn4u@sltwins@heart-trees

[maxdibert]

hii!! i love ur blog immensely, i literally spend so much time reading your analysis, and i agree with everything u say abt severus (my fav character), which is very rare for me

so, id like to know what do u think sev would be doing if he didnt have to go back to hogwarts at 21 and be forced to teach? like, if there was no voldemort (but everything else stayed the same like his childhood with lily, the marauders bullying him etc), what would he be doing nowadays? i always thought he would open his own potions store, maybe he'd try to heal from his past, find someone to love, idk, u probably have a more detailed answer lol

First of all, if Voldemort didn’t exist, I don’t think Severus would have ended up with the Death Eaters because, well, they wouldn’t exist, right? The story would be very different. I think his "break" with Lily might have taken longer, but eventually, they would have drifted apart quite a bit, and when she got together with James, it would likely have been Severus who distanced himself completely. Because, I mean, Severus isn’t exactly brimming with self-love, but I can’t imagine him handling his friend ending up with his bully very well, for obvious reasons. That said, I don’t think it would have been such a traumatic break but more like one of those friendships where, as you grow older, you just don’t have anything in common anymore and go in completely different directions. Then, one day, ten years later, you run into each other on the street and have no idea how to greet each other. You know what I mean?

That said, without him being part of the Death Eaters, without Voldemort in the picture, and without Lily dying and creating a lifelong guilt trauma that led him to sell his soul to Dumbledore—no, Severus wouldn’t have been a professor. At least not at Hogwarts, which is a pretty triggering place for his personal traumas. I see him dedicating himself to magical research and experimentation. I’m not sure if there’s an equivalent in the wizarding world, but like a typical Muggle university researcher working on specific scientific projects, only applied to magic. We’re talking about Severus Snape, the guy who rewrote his own Potions textbooks and invented complex spells as a teenager—the same Severus Snape who, despite everything, was a Slytherin, which means he has ambition. I think the perfect mix of those two things would have been dedicating himself to magical research, publishing his findings, and maybe—just maybe—teaching. But only teaching adult wizards who had already graduated from Hogwarts and wanted to further their skills by applying advanced knowledge. Like the equivalent of a university professor who only teaches because they’re required to in order to continue their doctorate.

I think with a life like that, with the peace to follow his own path and achieve his own successes, he could have healed from a lot of his issues. Probably not entirely, because the magical world sucks when it comes to managing mental health, but he could have moved on from Lily and built his own life.

[banana-juiceee]

Guys off topic but when I was younger, ı was feeling like a girl (cuz my sexuality is a girl), but a few months earlier, I started feeling like that I was a boy, then a few days ago I felt like I was both male and female, and now ı feel like I am none of them. I am so confused about my gender please help if y'know what does it means...

[candlebel]

I cared. I still do. I still think of you and I still cry over you. You were importat to me. You still are.

[sonrium]

DP X DC: A Minor Drinking Problem

Phantom is a relatively new member of the JLA, but it's been a few months, and things are settling in well. He's shy and polite but is a master of the snark with villains.

Before a big mission, the all hands on deck kind, everyone is talking about scars and the crazy stories behind them to distract from the coming fight. Danny, finally feeling like he can join in the conversation with all these adult heroes, pulls off his right glove to show a pretty gnarly scar on the back of his wrist. “I got this one when I fought a guy from the Revolutionary War a few weeks ago! Didn't think he'd charge me with a bayonet.” He shares a couple more stories and scars, but only the ones that he can easily show off.

Because of stories like that and some historical depictions of Phantom from different time periods, they think he's this ancient and powerful immortal that just looks like a teenager, it wouldnt be the first time. He's powerful enough to go toe to toe with Superman, so there's no way he's actually a kid. He even sometimes has the haunted, world weary eyes that their most hardened members only get after experiencing too much. Danny, being our lovable, obliviously dense idiot, has not realized that they think he's an ancient being.

After the mission concludes -it was a rough one-, the JLA celebrate their victory with a couple drinks back at the watch tower. Danny is understandably uncomfortable with this whole situation and keeps asking, “Are you sure I should be here?” They reassure him it's fine as they pass around beers, which Danny politely declines several times. Danny eventually sees this as the perfect chance to pad his blackmail folders on his inebriated coworkers.

Anyway, as the night goes on, they have a good time, but Phantom still hasn't gotten a drink like the rest of them, and Green Lantern (or hero of your choice) really wants their shy friend to come out of his shell. So, he slams an open beer bottle on the coffee table in front of Phantom. “Come on Phantom! Let loose a little. Celebrate!”

“Dude! What the hell?! I'm 16! That's illegal!” Phantom squeaks in shock.

“We don't care how old you were when you died. It's how long you've been a ghost that counts.” Flash slings an arm around Danny's shoulders from where he’s sat next to him on the couch. Flash can't get drunk, but he also thinks it would be fun to see their uptight new member drunk.

“That's even worse! You'd be giving alcohol to a two year old!” Phantom is horrified that his coworkers are so casually breaking the law.

“But you said you fought in the Revolutionary War this morning!” Green Lantern said with his eyebrows knit in confusion.

“No, I said I fought someone from the Revolutionary War. As in, the ghost of someone from the revolutionary war!”

“You can't pull that on us. There's murals and stuff of you from thousands of years ago.” The Flash waves off with a laugh.

Phantom’s finger presses painfully hard into Flash’s chest. “I do not need to explain time travel to you of all people. My mentor hates you, and I'm STILL sent on missions constantly to clean up your messes.” Phantom's clear and low. Flash liked it better when he was shouting and not staring him down like a predator with narrowed eyes.

(This random idea popped into my head. It made me laugh, so I thought you might, too. Here you go!)

[pucksandpower]

To Hell With Duty

Lewis Hamilton x soulmate!Reader

Summary: you’ve always known that being Princess of the UK means that a soulmate is a luxury you can’t afford … but then you meet your soulmate and decide that some things are worth turning your back on duty for

Warnings: abusive family dynamics

Note: I promised to write something in honor of Lewis’ win and this was born (now I’m tempted to make a soulmate AU series)

The sun blazes overhead as you step out of the sleek black car, your designer heels clicking against the pavement. The roar of engines and the excited chatter of the crowd at Silverstone envelop you, but you can barely hear them over the pounding of your own heart.

“Your Royal Highness, this way please,” a smartly dressed aide gestures towards the paddock area.

You nod, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. As you walk, you absently rub your wrist, feeling the slight raised bumps of your soulmate mark beneath the carefully applied concealer.

“I wish you didn’t have to hide it,” your best friend and lady-in-waiting, Sophie, whispers beside you.

“You know I don’t have a choice,” you murmur back, glancing around to ensure no one overheard.

The memory of your brother’s ordeal flashes through your mind, as vivid and painful as the day it happened ...

“No, please! You can’t do this!” Edward’s anguished cries echoed through the palace halls.

You huddled in your room, hands pressed over your ears, trying to block out the sound. But nothing could drown out your brother’s screams as the royal physician burned away his soulmate tattoo.

Later, when you snuck into his room, you found him curled up on his bed, cradling his bandaged wrist.

“Eddie?” You whispered, your voice small and frightened.

He looked up at you, his eyes red and puffy. “Y/N ... I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

You climbed onto the bed beside him. “Why did they do it? Why can’t you be with your soulmate?”

Edward sighed, pulling you close. “Because we’re royals, little sister. Our marriages are about duty, not love. Soulmates ... they’re a luxury we can’t afford.”

“But that’s not fair!” You protested.

“No, it’s not,” he agreed, his voice hollow. “But it’s the price we pay for our position. Promise me something, Y/N. If you ever find your soulmate ... run. Run far away and don’t look back.”

The memory fades as Sophie gently squeezes your arm, bringing you back to the present.

“Are you okay?” She asks, concern etched on her face.

You take a deep breath, straightening your shoulders. “I’m fine. Let’s get this over with.”

As you make your way through the paddock, you can’t help but feel a twinge of envy at the carefree laughter and excitement around you. Everywhere you look, people are proudly displaying their soulmate tattoos, some comparing them with friends, others stealing glances at strangers, wondering if today might be the day they meet their perfect match.

“Your Royal Highness,” a race official greets you with a bow. “We’re honored to have you here today. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the VIP area.”

You nod, allowing yourself to be led through the crowded paddock. The official drones on about the day’s schedule, but your mind wanders.

“What do you think your soulmate is like?” Sophie had asked you once, years ago, when you were both giggling teenagers.

“I don’t know,” you had replied, tracing the words on your wrist. “But I hope they’re kind. And funny. Someone who sees me for who I am, not just my title.”

“You’ll find them one day,” Sophie had said confidently. “And when you do, it’ll be magical.”

Now, surrounded by the bustle and excitement of race day, that conversation feels like a lifetime ago. You’ve long since resigned yourself to the fact that you’ll never meet your soulmate. Even if you did, you could never act on it. The risk is too great.

Lost in thought, you don’t notice the figure rounding the corner until it’s too late. You collide with a solid chest, stumbling backward. Strong hands grip your arms, steadying you before you can fall.

You look up, an apology on your lips, and find yourself staring into the most captivating brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Time seems to stand still as you gaze at each other, the world fading away around you.

And then he speaks, his voice low and warm.

“Whoa there, careful Princess. I’ve got you.”

***

Your heart stops as Lewis’ words sink in. They’re an exact match to the tattoo hidden beneath layers of concealer on your wrist. For a moment, you’re frozen, lost in his warm brown eyes, your mind reeling with the implications of what just happened.

Then reality comes crashing down. You can’t do this. You can’t put him in danger. You can’t risk the pain your brother went through.

“I ... I have to go,” you stammer, pulling away from his gentle grip.

Lewis’ brow furrows in confusion. “Wait, what’s wrong?”

But you’re already backing away, panic rising in your chest. “I’m sorry, I can’t ... this isn’t ... I have to leave.”

You turn and run, pushing past startled onlookers, your heart pounding in your ears. Behind you, you hear Lewis call out.

“Princess, wait! Your words ... they’re on my wrist!”

You falter for a moment, his words piercing through your panic. But no, it doesn’t matter. It can’t matter. You keep running.

“Y/N, please!” Lewis’ voice is closer now. He’s chasing after you. “I know you felt it too. We need to talk about this!”

You duck around a corner, trying to lose him in the maze of the paddock. But Lewis is faster, more familiar with the layout. He catches up to you in a quiet area behind one of the garages.

“Princess,” he says, slightly out of breath. “Please, just hear me out.”

You shake your head, tears threatening to spill. “You don’t understand. We can’t do this. My family ... they’ll never allow it. They’ll hurt you, or worse.”

Lewis takes a cautious step closer. “What do you mean? Why would your family hurt me?”

“Because you’re my soulmate!” The words burst out before you can stop them. “And royals aren’t allowed to be with their soulmates. It’s all about duty and arranged marriages. They ... they burned off my brother’s mark when he found his soulmate.”

Lewis’ eyes widen in horror. “That’s barbaric. They can’t do that to you.”

You laugh bitterly. “They’re the royal family. They can do whatever they want.”

“No,” Lewis says firmly. “They can’t. Because I won’t let them.”

You look at him, confused. “What?”

Lewis takes your hand gently, his touch sending sparks through your body. “Y/N, I’m not just British. I’m also a Brazilian citizen. And in Brazil, there are laws protecting soulmates. If we’re truly matched, which I believe we are, you automatically gain Brazilian citizenship too. Your family can’t touch you there.”

Hope flares in your chest, but you quickly squash it down. “It doesn’t matter. They’ll find a way. They always do.”

“Not this time,” Lewis insists. “Look, I have a race to drive soon, but after that, we can fly to Brazil immediately. I’ll keep you safe until then.”

You shake your head. “It’s too dangerous. If they find out ...”

“They won’t,” Lewis promises. “My driver’s room is private and secure. You can hide there until after the race. No one will think to look for you there.”

You hesitate, torn between hope and fear. “I don’t know ...”

Lewis squeezes your hand gently. “I know we just met, but I’ve been waiting my whole life to find you. Please, give us a chance. Let me protect you.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. Slowly, you nod. “Okay. But we have to be careful.”

Relief washes over Lewis’ face. “We will be. Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe.”

He leads you quickly through the paddock, taking care to avoid busy areas. You keep your head down, heart racing every time you pass someone. Finally, you reach a door marked with Lewis’ name.

“Here we are,” he says, ushering you inside. “Lock the door behind me and don’t open it for anyone but me. I’ll knock three times, pause, then twice more. Okay?”

You nod, taking in the small but comfortable room. “Okay. But Lewis, what about your race? You can’t miss it because of me.”

He smiles reassuringly. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll race, and then we’ll leave right after. It’ll be fine.”

“But what if something goes wrong? What if they find me?” The fear creeps back into your voice.

Lewis takes your hands in his, his touch grounding you. “Hey, look at me. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise. We’re soulmates, remember? That means we’re in this together now.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” he says softly. “But you’re also incredibly brave. You’ve lived with this fear your whole life, and you’re still standing. We can do this.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “We’ve known each other for all of ten minutes and you’re already saying ‘we’?”

Lewis grins. “Well, that’s what happens when you meet your soulmate, I guess. Everything changes in an instant.”

You laugh softly, feeling some of the tension leave your body. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Listen,” Lewis says, his tone turning serious. “I know this is all happening very fast, and I don’t expect you to fall in love with me right away or anything. We’ll take things as slow as you want once we’re safe. But right now, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

You look into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity and determination. Slowly, you nod. “Yes, I think I can.”

“Good,” Lewis smiles. “Now, I have to go get ready for the race. Remember, three knocks, pause, then two more. Don’t open for anyone else.”

“I won’t,” you promise. “Be careful out there, okay?”

Lewis’ smile widens. “Always am, Princess. I’ll see you soon.”

As he leaves, you lock the door behind him, your heart still racing. You sink onto the small couch, trying to process everything that’s happened in the last hour.

You’ve found your soulmate. After years of hiding your tattoo, of living in fear of it being burned away like your brother’s, you’ve actually met the person whose words are etched on your skin.

And not just any person. Lewis Hamilton. World-famous driver, activist, and fashion icon. You’ve seen him on TV, of course, admired his skill on the track and his passion for social justice. But you never imagined ...

You rub your wrist absently, feeling the slight raised bumps of your mark beneath the concealer. For the first time in years, you allow yourself to hope. Maybe, just maybe, you can have the life you’ve always dreamed of.

But doubt creeps in. What if Lewis is wrong? What if Brazilian citizenship isn’t enough to protect you from your family’s influence? What if they find you before you can leave?

You pace the small room, alternating between hope and fear. The sound of engines revving in the distance tells you the race is about to start. You find yourself holding your breath every time you hear footsteps pass by the door, terrified it might be palace security coming to drag you away.

Time crawls by agonizingly slowly. You try to distract yourself by watching the race on the small TV in the corner, but every time the camera focuses on Lewis’ car, your heart leaps into your throat. You silently urge him to be careful, to finish the race quickly so you can escape.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear it. Three knocks, a pause, then two more. You rush to the door, your hand hesitating for just a moment before you unlock it.

Lewis slips inside quickly, closing and locking the door behind him. He’s still in his race suit, his hair damp with sweat.

“Are you okay?” You ask immediately. “How was the race?”

Lewis grins. “I’m fine, and I won. But that’s not important right now. We need to go.”

He grabs a bag from a locker and starts shoving clothes into it. “I’ve arranged for a private jet to take us to São Paulo. We need to leave now, before anyone realizes you’re missing.”

You nod, your heart racing again. “Okay. What do we do?”

“I’ve got some clothing here that might fit you,” Lewis says, pulling out a hoodie and sweatpants. “Put these on over your clothes. We’ll need to be discreet getting to the airport.”

As you change, Lewis continues talking. “Once we’re in Brazil, we’ll be safe. There are strict laws protecting soulmates there. Your family won’t be able to touch you.”

“But what about your career?” You ask, suddenly realizing what he’s giving up. “You can’t just leave everything behind for me.”

Lewis pauses, looking at you intently. “Y/N, you’re my soulmate. That means you’re more important than any career, any amount of fame or money. We’ll figure out the details later, but right now, keeping you safe is all that matters.”

His words make your heart swell. You’ve never had anyone put you first like this before. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Lewis smiles. “Just trust me, okay?”

You nod, feeling a sense of calm settle over you despite the chaotic situation. “I do trust you. Let’s go.”

Lewis takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Ready?”

You take a deep breath, thinking of all you’re leaving behind — your family, your duty, the only life you’ve ever known. But as you look at Lewis, you realize you’re also stepping into a new life. One where you’re free to be yourself, to love who you want, to follow your heart.

“Ready,” you say firmly.

And with that, Lewis opens the door, and together, you step out into your new future.

***

The private jet hums softly as it cuts through the night sky, carrying you away from everything you’ve ever known. You’re curled up against Lewis on the plush leather seat, your head resting on his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear is oddly comforting, grounding you in this surreal moment.

Lewis’ arm is wrapped around you, his hand gently stroking your back. With your free hand, you trace the lines of his soulmate tattoo — your first words to him, now etched forever on his skin.

“I still can’t believe this is real,” you murmur, your fingers following the curves of each letter.

Lewis chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through his chest. “I know what you mean. I’ve imagined meeting you so many times, but nothing could have prepared me for the reality.”

You look up at him, a mixture of emotions swirling in your chest. “Weren’t you afraid? When you realized who I was?”

“Afraid?” Lewis considers for a moment. “No, not afraid. Excited, nervous, maybe a little overwhelmed. But not afraid.” He pauses, his expression growing serious. “But you were. You’re still afraid now, aren’t you?”

You nod slowly, dropping your gaze back to his wrist. “I’ve been afraid for so long, I’m not sure I know how to stop.”

Lewis’ hand moves to cup your face gently, encouraging you to look at him again. “Will you tell me about it? Help me understand?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “It’s ... it’s not a pleasant story.”

“I’m here,” Lewis says softly. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

His words, so simple yet so profound, give you the courage to begin. “It started with my brother, Edward. He was always the rebellious one, you know? Always pushing boundaries, questioning traditions. When he found his soulmate, he was over the moon. Her name was Lily, and she was ... she was perfect for him. Kind, funny, passionate about the same causes he was.”

You pause, the memory of your brother’s joy contrasting sharply with what came after. Lewis waits patiently, his presence a comforting anchor.

“For a few months, they managed to keep it a secret. But eventually, someone saw them together. Word got back to our parents and ...” You shudder, remembering that awful day. “They were furious. They gave Edward an ultimatum: give up Lily or give up his place in the line of succession.”

“That’s horrible,” Lewis murmurs, his arm tightening around you.

You nod, continuing, “Edward refused. He said Lily was more important than any throne. So they ... they decided to take matters into their own hands.”

Your voice breaks as you recount what happened next. “They had the royal physician burn off Edward’s soulmate mark. I can still hear his screams echoing through the palace. It was ... it was torture.”

Lewis’ body tenses beneath you, his voice tight with anger when he speaks. “They had no right. How could they do that to their own son?”

“They said it was for the good of the country,” you reply bitterly. “That royals can’t afford the luxury of soulmates. Our marriages are political tools, nothing more.”

“What happened to Edward and Lily?” Lewis asks gently.

You sigh heavily. “Edward was never the same after that. The spark in him just ... died. He does his duty now, makes the appearances he’s supposed to, but it’s like he’s just going through the motions. And Lily ... last I heard, she moved to Australia. I think being anywhere near the UK was too painful for her.”

Lewis is quiet for a moment, processing your words. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Y/N. No wonder you were scared when you realized we were soulmates.”

You nod, feeling the weight of years of fear and secrecy lifting as you share your story. “That’s not even the worst of it,” you admit softly.

Lewis looks at you, concern etched on his face. “There’s more?”

You take another deep breath, steeling yourself for the hardest part of the story. “My father ... he had an older sister. Aunt Margaret. I never met her, but I found out about her a few years ago.”

Lewis listens intently as you continue, “She found her soulmate when she was young, maybe 20 or so. And she refused to give him up, no matter what my grandparents said. They tried everything — threats, bribes, even attempting to arrange another match for her. But Margaret stood firm.”

“She sounds brave,” Lewis comments.

You nod, a sad smile touching your lips. “She was. But bravery wasn’t enough. One night, both Margaret and her soulmate disappeared. The official story was that they’d eloped, run off to start a new life together. But that wasn’t the truth.”

Lewis’ body tenses again, as if bracing for what’s coming. You press on, the words tumbling out now that you’ve started.

“Margaret’s soulmate was ... dealt with. Permanently. And Margaret herself was institutionalized. Locked away in a private facility, hidden from the world.”

“That’s ... that’s monstrous,” Lewis breathes, horror evident in his voice.

You nod, feeling tears prick at your eyes. “When I found out, I couldn’t believe it. I managed to find out where she was being held and I ... I visited her.”

Lewis’ hand resumes its gentle stroking of your back, encouraging you to continue.

“She was ... god, Lewis, she was just a shell. Decades of being locked away, of being separated from her soulmate ... it had broken her. She didn’t even seem to realize I was there.”

A tear escapes, rolling down your cheek. Lewis gently wipes it away with his thumb.

“That’s why I was so scared,” you whisper. “I’ve seen what my family is capable of. What lengths they’ll go to in order to keep up appearances, to maintain their idea of duty.”

Lewis is quiet for a long moment, his arms tightening around you protectively. When he finally speaks, his voice is filled with a mix of anger and determination.

“Listen to me, Y/N,” he says firmly. “What happened to your brother, to your aunt ... it was wrong. Cruel and wrong. But I promise you, I will not let that happen to us.”

You look up at him, seeing the fierce protectiveness in his eyes. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because we’re not alone in this,” Lewis explains. “We have resources they don’t. My citizenship, for one. The laws protecting soulmates in Brazil. And beyond that, we have the power of public opinion.”

You frown, not quite understanding. “What do you mean?”

Lewis shifts slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Think about it. Your family’s power comes from public support, right? What do you think would happen if the world found out they were separating soulmates, institutionalizing people?”

“It would be a scandal,” you realize, your eyes widening.

“Exactly,” Lewis nods. “We’re not helpless. If they try anything, we can fight back. We can tell our story, rally support. The world has changed a lot. People believe in the sanctity of soulmates now more than ever.”

His words spark a tiny flame of hope in your chest. “You really think we could do that?”

“I know we could,” Lewis says confidently. “But more than that, I don’t think we’ll have to. Your family isn’t stupid. They’ll realize the risk isn’t worth it. Especially not with someone as high-profile as me.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that. “Modest, aren’t you?”

Lewis grins, the tension of the moment breaking. “Hey, I’m just stating facts. Seven-time world champion, remember?”

You roll your eyes playfully, but then grow serious again. “Lewis ... thank you. For listening, for understanding. For not running away when you realized how complicated this all is.”

“Hey,” Lewis says softly, tilting your chin up so you’re looking directly into his eyes. “You’re my soulmate. That means we’re in this together, complications and all. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words wash over you, soothing fears you’ve carried for so long. For the first time, you allow yourself to truly believe that maybe, just maybe, you can have this. You can have him.

“So,” you say, a small smile playing on your lips. “What happens now?”

Lewis grins, his eyes twinkling with excitement and possibility. “Now? Now we start our adventure. We land in São Paulo, get your citizenship sorted out, and then ... well, then the world’s our oyster. We can go anywhere, do anything.”

“Anything?” You ask, the concept of such freedom almost dizzying.

“Anything,” Lewis confirms. “We could travel the world. Or we could find a quiet place to settle down if that’s what you prefer. We could work on charitable causes together, or you could pursue whatever dreams you’ve had to put aside because of your royal duties.”

The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one more exciting than the last. “I ... I don’t even know where to start,” you admit.

Lewis chuckles, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We don’t have to decide everything right now. We’ve got time. For now, let’s just focus on getting to Brazil safely. We can figure out the rest as we go.”

You nod, settling back against his chest. The steady beat of his heart syncs with the hum of the jet engines, lulling you into a sense of peace you haven’t felt in years.

As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in the safety of your soulmate’s arms, you realize something. For the first time in your life, you’re not afraid of the future. Instead, you’re excited to see what it holds.

Whatever comes next, you’ll face it together. You and Lewis, two halves of a whole, finally united. The journey ahead may be uncertain, but with him by your side, you’re ready for anything.

***

As the private jet touches down on Brazilian soil, a mixture of excitement and nervousness flutters in your stomach. Lewis gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as the plane rolls to a stop.

“Ready?” He asks, his warm brown eyes meeting yours.

You take a deep breath and nod. “As I’ll ever be.”

The cabin door opens, and the humid Brazilian air rushes in. Lewis leads you down the steps, his hand never leaving yours. At the bottom, a tall woman in a crisp suit waits, her dark hair pulled back in a neat bun.

“Mr. Hamilton,” she greets with a warm smile, extending her hand. “And Your Royal Highness. Welcome to Brazil. I’m Dr. Raquel Santos from the Department of Soulmate Affairs.”

Lewis shakes her hand. “Dr. Santos, thank you for meeting us on such short notice.”

“Of course,” she replies, turning to you. “Your Highness, it’s an honor.”

You shake her hand, feeling slightly overwhelmed. “Please, just call me Y/N. I ... I’m not sure how much of a royal I am anymore.”

Dr. Santos’ smile softens. “Of course, Y/N. Why don’t we move this conversation somewhere more private? I have a car waiting to take us to a secure location where we can discuss everything in detail.”

You and Lewis follow her to a sleek black car. Once inside, Dr. Santos turns to face you both.

“First and foremost,” she begins, “I want to assure you that you are under the full protection of Brazilian law. As soon as you stepped off that plane, Y/N, you became entitled to all the rights and protections we offer to soulmates.”

“Just like that?” You ask, hardly daring to believe it could be so simple.

Dr. Santos nods. “Just like that. Brazil takes soulmate rights very seriously. We believe that the bond between soulmates is sacred and should be protected at all costs.”

Lewis leans forward, his expression serious. “What exactly does that protection entail? Y/N’s situation is ... complicated.”

“I understand,” Dr. Santos says. “Your assistant filled me in on some of the details during our phone call. Let me break down the key points for you.”

As the car glides through the streets of São Paulo, Dr. Santos begins her explanation.

“First, as the soulmate of a Brazilian citizen, Y/N is immediately eligible for Brazilian citizenship. We can begin the paperwork right away. This will provide an added layer of protection against any attempts at extradition.”

You feel a weight lift off your shoulders at her words. “So my family can’t force me to return to the UK?”

“Correct,” Dr. Santos confirms. “Brazil does not recognize any authority over soulmate bonds, not even royal decrees. Your status as a princess is irrelevant in the eyes of our law when it comes to your rights as a soulmate.”

Lewis squeezes your hand, a smile playing on his lips. “See? I told you we’d figure it out.”

Dr. Santos continues, “Furthermore, we have specific laws protecting soulmates from forced separation. Any attempt to interfere with your bond — be it physical separation, coercion, or even attempts to remove or alter your soulmate marks — is considered a serious crime in Brazil.”

You unconsciously rub your wrist where your tattoo is hidden. “What about ... what if they try to claim I’m mentally unfit or something? To try and invalidate my choices?”

Dr. Santos’ expression turns serious. “We’ve seen such tactics used before, unfortunately. That’s why we have safeguards in place. Any claims of mental unfitness would require extensive evaluation by multiple independent Brazilian psychiatrists.”

“And if they try to use their diplomatic influence?” Lewis asks.

“Brazil’s stance on soulmate rights is non-negotiable,” Dr. Santos states firmly. “We’ve stood up to pressure from other nations before, and we won’t hesitate to do so again. Your bond is protected here, regardless of external political pressures.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “This all sounds almost too good to be true.”

Dr. Santos smiles warmly. “I understand your caution, Y/N. But I assure you, these protections are very real and very enforceable. Now, let me explain some of the practical aspects of your situation.”

As the car turns onto a quieter street, Dr. Santos pulls out a tablet. “We’ll need to register your bond officially. This involves a simple verification process — usually just a visual confirmation of a matching font on your soulmate marks. Once registered, you’ll be issued official documentation of your bond status.”

“What does that documentation do?” You ask, leaning forward with interest.

“It serves several purposes,” Dr. Santos explains. “Firstly, it’s legal proof of your bond, which can be used to claim various rights and protections under Brazilian law. It also serves as a form of identification and can be used to expedite your citizenship application.”

Lewis nods thoughtfully. “And what about privacy? Given our high profiles, we’re concerned about information leaks.”

“An excellent question,” Dr. Santos says. “We take privacy very seriously, especially in high-profile cases like yours. All information related to your bond and Y/N’s presence in Brazil will be classified at the highest level. Only a select few government officials will have access to this information.”

You feel a surge of gratitude towards this woman and the country she represents. “Dr. Santos, I can’t thank you enough for all of this.”

She smiles warmly. “It’s my pleasure. Protecting soulmates is not just my job, it’s my passion. Now, let’s discuss some of the support services available to you.”

As the car pulls up to a nondescript building, Dr. Santos continues her explanation. “We offer counseling services specifically tailored for soulmates who have faced separation or threats to their bond. These services are completely confidential and can be invaluable in helping you process your experiences and adjust to your new life.”

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I think ... I think that might be really helpful.”

Lewis wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “We’ll get through this together, love. Whatever you need.”

Dr. Santos leads you into the building and up to a comfortably furnished office. As you all take seats, she pulls out some forms.

“Now, I know this is a lot to take in,” she says gently. “But I’d like to start the official registration process, if you’re ready. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you’ll have legal protection.”

You look at Lewis, who gives you an encouraging nod. “Okay,” you say, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

As Dr. Santos begins to explain the forms, a thought occurs to you. “Dr. Santos, what about Lewis? How will all of this affect his career?”

Dr. Santos smiles. “I’m glad you asked. Mr. Hamilton, as a Brazilian citizen, you have the right to have your soulmate with you wherever your career takes you. We can provide diplomatic assistance to ensure Y/N can travel with you freely, without risk of detention or forced return to the UK.”

Lewis grins, looking relieved. “That’s fantastic news. I was worried I might have to give up racing.”

“Not at all,” Dr. Santos assures him. “We believe that soulmates should support each other’s dreams and ambitions. Our laws are designed to facilitate that.”

As you begin filling out the forms, a sense of surreal calm washes over you. For the first time in your life, you feel truly protected, truly free to be with the person you’re meant to be with.

“There’s one more thing,” Dr. Santos says as you finish the paperwork. “As part of our soulmate protection program, we offer a safe house service. It’s a secure location where you can stay while you adjust to your new situation and decide on your next steps. Would you be interested in that?”

You and Lewis exchange a look. “I think that might be a good idea,” Lewis says. “At least for a little while, until we figure things out. My home here isn’t exactly inconspicuous.”

You nod in agreement. “Yes, please. That sounds perfect.”

Dr. Santos smiles, clearly pleased. “Excellent. I’ll make the arrangements right away. The location is completely confidential and guarded 24/7. You’ll be safe there.”

As she stands to make some calls, you turn to Lewis, feeling overwhelmed by everything that’s happened.

“Lewis,” you say softly, “I can’t believe you’ve done all this for me. You’ve turned your whole life upside down.”

He takes your hands in his, his eyes shining with emotion. “You’re my soulmate. My whole life was leading up to finding you. Everything else? It’s just details we’ll figure out together.”

You lean in, resting your forehead against his. For the first time since you can remember, you feel truly, completely safe. Protected not just by laws and governments, but by the love of the person you were always meant to find.

As Dr. Santos returns to finalize the arrangements, you realize that this isn’t just the end of your old life. It’s the beginning of something new, something wonderful. A life where you’re free to love, free to be yourself, free to explore the bond that fate has given you.

Whatever challenges lie ahead, you know now that you won’t face them alone. You have Lewis, you have the protection of Brazilian law, and most importantly, you have hope. The future, once so terrifying, now shines with possibility.

And as you leave the office hand in hand with Lewis, ready to start your new life together, you can’t help but smile. Because for the first time, you’re not running away from something.

You’re running towards it.

***

The roar of engines and the buzz of excitement fill the air as you stand at the entrance to the Autódromo José Carlos Pace. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of nerves and exhilaration coursing through your veins. Lewis’ hand is warm and steady in yours, a constant reminder that you’re not alone.

“Are you ready for this?” Lewis asks, his brown eyes searching yours with concern.

You take a deep breath, squeezing his hand. “As ready as I’ll ever be. It’s time to stop hiding.”

Lewis nods, a proud smile lighting up his face. “That’s my girl. Remember, whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

With one last reassuring squeeze, Lewis leads you into the paddock. The moment you step into view, a hush falls over the nearby crowd. Then, like a wave, whispers and exclamations ripple outward.

“Is that ...”

“It can’t be ...”

“The princess!”

“With Lewis Hamilton?”

Cameras flash in a frenzy, and reporters surge forward, held back only by the security team flanking you and Lewis. You keep your head high, your hand firmly in Lewis’ as you make your way through the paddock.

A brave reporter manages to shout a question over the commotion. “Your Highness! Is it true you’ve been in hiding in Brazil?”

You pause, looking to Lewis. He gives you an encouraging nod. Taking a deep breath, you turn to face the press.

“Yes, it’s true,” you say, your voice steady despite your nerves. “I’ve been in Brazil for the past few months, under the protection of the Brazilian government.”

The questions come rapid-fire after that.

“Why did you leave the UK?”

“Are you and Lewis Hamilton really soulmates?”

“What does the royal family have to say about this?”

Lewis steps forward, his arm protectively around your waist. “We’ll be holding a press conference later to address all your questions. For now, we ask for your patience and understanding as we prepare for the race.”

As you continue through the paddock, you can’t help but think back on the tumultuous months that led to this moment ...

The first few weeks in Brazil had been a whirlwind of paperwork, security briefings, and adjusting to your new reality. You and Lewis had stayed in the safe house provided by the Brazilian government, venturing out only when necessary and always under heavy guard.

One morning, about a month into your stay, Dr. Santos had arrived with a grim expression.

“We’ve intercepted some concerning communications,” she had said, her usual calm demeanor tinged with worry. “It seems the British royal family has intensified their search for you, Y/N. They’re making threats.”

You had felt your heart drop. “What kind of threats?”

Dr. Santos had hesitated before answering. “They’re threatening to use their diplomatic influence to pressure Brazil into returning you. They’re also ... they’re suggesting that you might be mentally unfit, that you’ve been coerced or manipulated.”

Lewis had immediately pulled you close, his jaw clenched in anger. “They can’t do that. We won’t let them.”

“And we won’t,” Dr. Santos had assured you both. “Our stance on soulmate rights is non-negotiable. But I want you to be prepared. This might get ugly.”

And it had. Over the next few months, your family had tried everything. Diplomatic pressure, media manipulation, even attempts to infiltrate Brazilian government systems to locate you. But Brazil had stood firm, and you had remained safe.

A commotion near the Mercedes garage snaps you back to the present. You see a group of men in dark suits pushing their way through the crowd, their expressions grim and determined. Your blood runs cold as you recognize one of them — your father’s head of security.

“Lewis,” you whisper urgently, “they’re here.”

Lewis’ arm tightens around you as he quickly assesses the situation. “Stay calm. Remember the plan.”

As the men approach, the lead one steps forward, his voice loud and authoritative. “Your Royal Highness, by order of His Majesty the King, you are to return to the United Kingdom immediately.”

You feel all eyes on you, the paddock having gone deathly quiet. Taking a deep breath, you step forward, your voice clear and steady. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. I am here of my own free will, protected by Brazilian law as the soulmate of a Brazilian citizen.”

The man’s expression hardens. “Your Highness, please don’t make this difficult. Your family is concerned for your well-being. They believe you may have been coerced or manipulated-”

“The only manipulation here,” Lewis interrupts, his voice sharp, “is coming from those who would separate soulmates for political gain.”

Just then, Dr. Santos appears, flanked by Brazilian officials. “Gentlemen,” she says coolly to the British security team, “I’m afraid you’re overstepping. Y/N is under the protection of the Brazilian government. Any attempt to remove her against her will would be considered means for an international incident.”

The head of security sputters, clearly not having expected this level of resistance. “This is a family matter-”

“No,” you interject, your voice stronger now. “This is a matter of human rights. The right to be with one’s soulmate. A right that Brazil recognizes and protects.”

Dr. Santos nods approvingly. “Furthermore, any claims of mental unfitness have been thoroughly disproven by independent psychiatric evaluation. Y/N is here of her own free will, in full possession of her faculties.”

The security team looks at each other uncertainly, clearly realizing they’re outmatched. The lead man makes one last attempt. “Your Highness, please. Your family misses you. They want you to come home.”

For a moment, you feel a pang of sadness for the life you left behind. But then you feel Lewis’ steady presence beside you, and you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

“I am home,” you say softly but firmly. “My home is with my soulmate, wherever that may be.”

The man opens his mouth to argue further, but Dr. Santos cuts him off. “Gentlemen, I believe it’s time for you to leave. Unless you’d like us to involve the authorities?”

Realizing they’re defeated, the security team begins to retreat. As they leave, you hear murmurs of admiration and support from the crowd that has gathered to watch the confrontation.

Lewis pulls you into a tight embrace. “You were amazing,” he whispers in your ear. “I’m so proud of you.”

As you pull back, you see reporters clamoring for comments, their cameras flashing incessantly. Dr. Santos steps forward to address them.

“A full press conference will be held later today,” she announces. “For now, I can confirm that Y/N, formally known as Her Royal Highness, is here legally and of her own free will as the soulmate of Lewis Hamilton. She is under the full protection of Brazilian law, and any attempts to interfere with their bond will be met with the full force of our legal system.”

As Dr. Santos continues to field questions, Lewis turns to you. “Are you okay?” He asks softly, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “I’m more than okay. For the first time, I feel ... free.”

Lewis grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because we’ve got a race to win.”

As you make your way to the Mercedes garage, you’re overwhelmed by the support you receive. Team members, other drivers, and even fans call out words of encouragement.

“We’ve got your back, Y/N!”

“Love wins!”

“You show ‘em, Lewis!”

Inside the garage, the team greets you warmly. Toto approaches with a smile.

“Y/N, Lewis,” he says, shaking both your hands. “That was quite an entrance. Are you sure you’re up for all this today?”

You nod firmly. “Absolutely. It’s time to show the world that love doesn’t make you weak. It makes you stronger.”

Lewis beams at your words. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. Now, let’s go win this race, yeah?”

As Lewis begins his pre-race preparations, you find a quiet corner to collect your thoughts. The events of the past few months flash through your mind — the fear, the uncertainty, but also the overwhelming love and support you’ve received.

You think about your family, about the life you left behind. There’s sadness there, but no regret. You’ve found something more precious than any crown — the freedom to love, to be yourself, to follow your heart.

A gentle hand on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts. You look up to see Lewis, now in his race suit, his helmet tucked under his arm.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks softly.

You smile, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Just thinking about how lucky I am. How grateful I am for you, for Brazil, for everyone who’s supported us.”

Lewis leans into your touch, his eyes shining with emotion. “We’re the lucky ones, Y/N. To have found each other, to have this chance at happiness. And I promise you, I’ll spend every day making sure you never regret your choice.”

You stand, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I could never regret choosing you. You’re my soulmate, my home, my everything.”

As you lean in for a kiss, the garage erupts in cheers and whistles. You break apart, laughing, to see the entire team watching with grins on their faces.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Toto calls out good-naturedly. “Save it for after the race. Lewis, you’ve got a championship to chase.”

Lewis gives you one last quick kiss before pulling on his helmet. “Watch me fly, Princess,” he says with a wink.

As he heads out to the track, you take your place in the garage, surrounded by your new family — the team that has embraced you without question. You feel a sense of belonging, of purpose, that you’ve never experienced before.

The roar of engines fills the air as the race begins. You watch Lewis navigate the track with precision and skill, your heart swelling with pride and love. This is your life now — the excitement of race day, the thrill of competition, but most importantly, the joy of being with your soulmate.

As Lewis crosses the finish line in first place, the garage erupts in celebration. You rush out to meet him in parc fermé, not caring about protocol or propriety. Lewis sweeps you up in his arms, spinning you around as the crowd cheers.

In that moment, with the sun shining down and the sound of celebration all around, you know that you’ve made the right choice. This is where you belong — by Lewis’ side, free to love and be loved, ready to face whatever challenges come your way.

Together.

***

The familiar scent of motor oil and rubber fills the air as you step onto British soil for the first time in over a year. Silverstone buzzes with excitement, but you can’t shake the nervous energy coursing through your veins. Lewis’ hand finds yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You okay?” He asks softly, his eyes searching yours with concern.

You take a deep breath, nodding. “I think so. It’s just ... strange being back.”

Lewis pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Remember, you’re not alone. We’ve got security everywhere, and I’m right here with you.”

As if on cue, the head of your security team, a tall, no-nonsense woman named Maria, approaches. “Everything’s clear, Ms. Y/N. We’ve swept the entire area and have eyes on all entry points.”

You smile gratefully at her. “Thank you, Maria. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Maria’s stern expression softens slightly. “Just doing our job, ma’am. Your safety is our top priority.”

As you make your way through the paddock, you can’t help but notice the stares and whispers that follow you. Some are curious, others admiring, and a few ... less than friendly. But your security team forms a protective barrier around you and Lewis, keeping any potential trouble at bay.

“Y/N! Lewis!” A familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Fred Vasseur approaching, a warm smile on his face. “Welcome back to Silverstone. How are you holding up?”

“It’s ... intense,” you admit. “But I’m glad to be here, supporting Lewis.”

Fred nods understandingly. “Well, you’ve got the whole team behind you. Anyone gives you trouble, they’ll have to answer to all of Ferrari.”

As you continue through the paddock, greeting team members and other drivers, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. Not just by the curious onlookers, but by someone ... familiar.

That’s when you see him. Standing near the VIP area, looking as regal and composed as ever, is your brother.

Your heart skips a beat. You haven’t seen Edward since that fateful day you ran away. Lewis, sensing your tension, follows your gaze.

“Is that ...” he asks quietly.

You nod, unable to find words. Lewis turns to Maria. “Can you make sure we have a private moment?”

Maria nods, already signaling to her team. Within moments, they’ve created a small bubble of privacy around you and Edward.

Edward approaches slowly, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you both just stand there, years of unspoken words hanging between you.

Then, to your surprise, Edward’s composure cracks. His eyes fill with tears as he pulls you into a tight embrace.

“Y/N,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you so much.”

You cling to him, your own tears falling freely. “Eddie ... I’m so sorry I left without saying goodbye. I just ... I couldn’t ...”

Edward pulls back, holding you at arm’s length. His eyes roam your face, as if memorizing every detail. “Don’t apologize. Not ever. What you did ... Y/N, I am so incredibly proud of you.”

His words catch you off guard. “Proud? But I abandoned the family, my duties ...”

Edward shakes his head firmly. “You chose love. You chose happiness. You did what I was too weak to do.”

You glance at Lewis, who’s standing a respectful distance away, giving you this moment with your brother. “Edward, this is Lewis. My soulmate.”

Edward extends his hand to Lewis. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lewis. Thank you for protecting my sister and giving her the happiness she deserves.”

Lewis shakes his hand, his expression sincere. “The honor is mine, Your Highness. Y/N is the bravest, most amazing person I know. I’m just lucky to be part of her life.”

Edward’s smile is tinged with sadness. “Please, call me Edward. And you’re right, she is amazing. Always has been.”

You look at your brother closely, noticing the lines of stress around his eyes, the slight slump in his shoulders. “Eddie ... how are you? Really?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s ... not easy. The family is in turmoil after your departure. Father is furious, Mother is heartbroken, and I’m ... well, I’m trying to hold it all together.”

“And Lily?” You ask softly, referring to Edward’s soulmate. “Have you heard from her?”

Edward’s expression clouds over. “No. Not since ... not since that day.”

You take your brother’s hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s not too late, you know. You could still reach out to her.”

Edward laughs bitterly. “And say what? ‘Sorry I let them burn off my soulmate mark and married someone else. Want to grab coffee?’”

Lewis steps forward, his voice gentle but firm. “With all due respect, Your High- Edward, it’s never too late. The bond between soulmates ... it’s not something that can be erased, no matter what’s done to the physical mark.”

Edward looks at Lewis, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You really believe that?”

Lewis nods. “I do. Y/N and I found each other against all odds. Who’s to say you and Lily can’t do the same?”

You squeeze Edward’s hand again. “Eddie, you deserve to be happy. You deserve love. It’s not too late to choose yourself, to choose love.”

Edward looks torn, glancing around at the crowds, the cameras, the weight of expectation that’s always surrounded you both. “But the family ...”

“Will still be there,” you say softly. “But you’ll be facing them as your true self, with your soulmate by your side. It makes all the difference, trust me.”

Your brother is quiet for a long moment, clearly wrestling with years of ingrained duty and expectation. Finally, he looks up, a new determination in his eyes.

“You’re right,” he says, his voice growing stronger. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve spent too long living for everyone else. It’s time I lived for myself.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “Does this mean ...”

Edward nods, a mix of fear and excitement in his eyes. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to find Lily. I’m going to make things right.”

You throw your arms around your brother, hugging him tightly. “I’m so proud of you, Eddie. And I’ll be here for you, every step of the way.”

As you pull back, you see tears in Edward’s eyes, but also a lightness that you haven’t seen in years. “Thank you. For showing me that it’s possible to choose love. For being brave enough to pave the way.”

Lewis steps forward, placing a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “If you need any help — legal advice, security, anything — just say the word. You’re family now.”

Edward looks at Lewis gratefully. “Thank you. I might just take you up on that.”

Just then, Maria approaches discreetly. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to move. The press is getting restless.”

You nod, turning back to Edward. “Will you be okay?”

He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “I will be. For the first time in a long time, I think I really will be.”

As you prepare to part ways, Edward pulls you in for one last hug. “I love you, little sister. Thank you for reminding me what’s truly important.”

“I love you too, Eddie,” you whisper back. “Go find your happiness. You deserve it.”

With one last squeeze, Edward steps back. As he walks away, you see him pull out his phone, a look of determination on his face. You have a feeling you know exactly who he’s about to call.

Lewis wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “You okay, love?”

You nod, wiping away a stray tear. “More than okay. I feel ... hopeful. For Eddie, for us, for everything.”

As you make your way back through the paddock, you’re struck by how different everything feels. The stares don’t bother you as much, the whispers fade into background noise. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, with the person you’re meant to be with.

“You know,” Lewis says as you reach the Ferrari garage, “I think I’m going to win this race.”

You raise an eyebrow, a smile playing on your lips. “Oh? And what makes you so sure?”

Lewis grins, pulling you close. “Because I’ve got my lucky charm by my side. How can I lose?”

You laugh, the sound light and free. “Well, in that case, you’d better not disappoint. I expect nothing less than a victory, Sir Hamilton.”

As Lewis leans in for a kiss, you’re vaguely aware of cameras flashing and people cheering. But none of that matters. What matters is this moment, this love, this life you’ve chosen.

You think back to a year ago, when you were terrified of finding your soulmate, of the consequences it would bring. Now, standing here at Silverstone, with Lewis by your side and the hope of your brother finding his own happiness, you realize that choosing love wasn’t just the brave choice.

It was the only choice.

As Lewis heads off to prepare for the race, you take your place in the garage. The roar of engines fills the air, and you feel a surge of excitement.

This is your life now. Supporting Lewis, championing love, and showing the world that sometimes, the greatest act of duty is being true to yourself.

As the race begins, you watch Lewis tear around the track, your heart swelling with pride and love. You may not wear a tiara anymore, but you’ve gained something far more precious — the freedom to love, to choose, to be yourself.

And as the chequered flag waves and Lewis crosses the finish line in first place, you know that this victory isn’t just his.

It’s yours. It’s Edward’s. It’s everyone who’s ever had the courage to choose love over duty, happiness over expectation.

As you rush to congratulate Lewis, wrapped in his arms as the crowd cheers, you know that this is just the beginning. There will be challenges ahead, obstacles to overcome. But with love by your side and the strength to be true to yourself, you’re ready to face whatever comes.

Because in the end, love always wins. And you? You’re living proof of that.

***

The warm Brazilian sun streams through the windows of the spacious beachfront home, filling the living room with a golden glow. The sound of children’s laughter mingles with the distant crash of waves, creating a symphony of domestic bliss.

You’re seated on the plush carpet, surrounded by an array of colorful toys. Your three-year-old daughter, Emilia, is busily stacking blocks, her little face scrunched in concentration. Across from you, Edward is attempting to wrangle his own two-year-old son, James, who seems more interested in knocking down Emilia’s creations than building his own.

“James, darling, let’s build our own tower, shall we?” Edward coaxes gently, redirecting his son’s attention.

You can’t help but smile at the scene. Five years ago, you never could have imagined this — you and Edward, raising your children together, free from the constraints of royal duty.

The sound of a door opening draws your attention. Lewis walks in, his arms full of grocery bags, closely followed by Lily.

“We come bearing snacks!” Lewis announces with a grin.

Emilia’s head snaps up at the sight of her favorite person. “Daddy!” She squeals, abandoning her blocks and running to Lewis.

Lewis sets down the bags just in time to scoop up his daughter, peppering her face with kisses. “Hello, my little racer. Have you been good for Mummy?”

Emilia nods enthusiastically. “I builded a big tower!”

“Built, sweetheart,” you correct gently, getting to your feet. “And it was a very impressive tower indeed.”

Lewis sets Emilia down and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “And how’s my other favorite girl doing?”

You smile, leaning into his embrace. “Better now that you’re home. How was the market?”

“Busy,” Lily chimes in, setting down her own bags. “But we managed to get everything on the list, plus a few extras.”

Edward stands, hoisting James onto his hip. “Extras, you say? Let me guess — more of those brigadeiros that you’re definitely not addicted to, right, love?”

Lily’s cheeks flush slightly as she laughs. “I plead the fifth. This baby wants what it wants.”

Your eyes light up at the reminder. Lily is five months pregnant with their second child, and you’re all buzzing with excitement.

“Speaking of the baby,” you say, moving to help unpack the groceries, “have you two decided if you’re going to find out the gender?”

Edward and Lily exchange a look. “We’re still debating,” Edward admits. “Part of me wants to know, but there’s also something nice about the surprise.”

Lewis chuckles, joining you in the kitchen. “I remember that debate. Though if I recall correctly, someone couldn’t handle the suspense and made me call the doctor at two in the morning to find out.”

You playfully swat his arm. “Hey, you were just as curious as I was!”

As you all work together to put away the groceries and prepare snacks for the kids, you’re struck by how natural this all feels. The easy banter, the shared responsibilities, the love that permeates every interaction. It’s a far cry from the rigid formality of your royal upbringing.

“You know,” Edward says, as if reading your thoughts, “sometimes I still can’t believe this is our life now.”

You nod, understanding completely. “I know what you mean. It’s so different from what we always thought our futures would be.”

Lily comes up behind Edward, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Different, but better, right?”

Edward turns, pulling her close. “Infinitely better. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

As you watch your brother with his soulmate, you feel a wave of happiness and gratitude wash over you. It hadn’t been easy for Edward to follow in your footsteps, to give up his place in the line of succession and choose love over duty. But seeing him now, so relaxed and genuinely happy, you know it was worth every struggle.

“Earth to Y/N,” Lewis’ voice breaks through your reverie. “Where’d you go just now?”

You smile, shaking your head. “Just thinking about how far we’ve all come. How different things could have been.”

Lewis nods, understanding in his eyes. “Do you ever regret it? Giving up your title, your life in England?”

You don’t hesitate for a second. “Never. This life, with you, with our family — it’s more than I ever dreamed possible.”

A sudden crash from the living room interrupts the moment. You all rush in to find James standing triumphantly atop a mountain of scattered blocks, while Emilia looks on in horror.

“James Edward Henry Albert Windsor!” Lily exclaims, trying to sound stern but failing to hide her amusement. “What have we said about destroying other people’s creations?”

James, looking not at all repentant, grins widely. “I king of the castle!”

Edward struggles to keep a straight face as he lifts his son off the block mountain. “Yes, well, kings should be builders, not destroyers. Let’s clean this up and then we can all build a castle together, okay?”

As you all pitch in to help clean up the blocks, Emilia tugs on your sleeve. “Mummy, will James be a real king someday?”

The question catches you off guard. You exchange a look with Edward, unsure how to explain the complicated reality of your family’s situation.

Lewis kneels down next to Emilia, his voice gentle. “No, sweetheart. James won’t be a king and you won’t be a princess. But that’s okay, because you get to be something even better.”

Emilia’s eyes widen with curiosity. “What’s that, Daddy?”

Lewis smiles, pulling her into a hug. “You get to be yourself. You get to choose who you want to be and what you want to do with your life. And that’s much more special.”

You feel tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the simple beauty of Lewis’ words. This is why you left, why you chose this life. So that your children could have the freedom you and Edward never had growing up.

As the afternoon wears on, you all migrate to the back patio. The kids play in the sand under the watchful eyes of their parents, while you, Lewis, Edward, and Lily relax on the comfortable outdoor furniture.

“So,” Lily says, her hand resting on her growing belly, “have you two given any thought to expanding your own family?”

You and Lewis share a knowing look. “Actually,” you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice, “we’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”

Edward raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Do tell, little sister.”

Lewis takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. “We’re thinking of adopting. There are so many children out there who need loving homes, and we have more than enough love to give.”

“That’s wonderful!” Lily exclaims, her eyes shining. “Oh, Emilia would love a little brother or sister.”

You nod, watching your daughter play. “We think so too. We’re just starting the process, but it feels right.”

Edward leans forward, his expression serious. “Have you thought about how this might affect things back in England? The press ...”

You sigh, having expected this question. “We have. And honestly, we’ve decided that it doesn’t matter what they think. This is our life, our family. We’re not going to let fear of judgment or outdated institutions dictate our choices anymore.”

Lewis nods in agreement. “We’ve already faced the worst they could throw at us. We came out stronger. Whatever comes next, we can handle it together.”

Edward’s serious expression melts into a proud smile. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry, old habits die hard I suppose. I’m thrilled for you both, truly.”

As the conversation flows, touching on everything from potential names for Lily and Edward’s baby to Lewis’ upcoming ambassador campaign, you’re struck by how perfectly imperfect this life is. It’s messy and chaotic at times, full of unexpected challenges and joy in equal measure. But it’s real, and it’s yours.

The sun begins to set, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink. James and Emilia, tired from their day of play, curl up in their fathers’ laps. As you watch your brother gently stroke his son’s hair, you remember a conversation from years ago.

“Eddie,” you say softly, “do you remember what you told me the day they ... the day they burned off your soulmate mark?”

Edward looks up, his eyes clouding with the memory. “I told you that if you ever found your soulmate, you should run. Run far away and don’t look back.”

You nod, feeling Lewis’ arm tighten around you. “I’m so glad I took your advice. And I’m even more glad that you eventually followed it too.”

Edward smiles, looking down at James and then over at Lily. “So am I, Y/N. So am I.”

As the evening draws in, you all move inside. The kids are put to bed, their excited chatter about building sandcastles and racing cars fading into peaceful sleep. You, Lewis, Edward, and Lily settle in the living room, glasses of wine in hand (sparkling juice for Lily).

“A toast,” Lewis proposes, raising his glass. “To family, to love, and to the courage to choose our own path.”

“To freedom,” Edward adds, his eyes shining with emotion.

“To second chances,” Lily chimes in, her hand resting on her belly.

You raise your own glass, feeling a swell of emotion. “To us. All of us. And to the beautiful, chaotic, perfectly imperfect life we’ve built together.”

As you clink glasses, you catch Lewis’ eye. In that moment, you’re transported back to that day at Silverstone, when you first ran into each other. The fear, the excitement, the life-changing decision you made in an instant.

You wouldn’t change a thing.

As the night wears on and conversation flows freely, you realize that this — this warmth, this love, this freedom — this is what happily ever after really looks like. It’s not a fairy tale ending, but a beginning. A beginning of a life filled with love, choice, and the joy of being truly yourself.

And as you curl up in bed that night, Lewis’ arms around you and the sound of the ocean in the distance, you know that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

Your family’s story is still being written. And you can’t wait to see what the next chapter brings.

[wild-at-mind]

Me recently: what if someone thinks I’m a loser? What if I AM a loser??

[talkingattumble]

Hi guys! Here’s some advice from a cane user on how to spot a fake cane user/disability faker!

YOU CANT

You can not spot a “fake disabled” cane user. You can not know if someone’s “really disabled”, much less by just looking at them. Here are some common misconceptions.

“Cane users always need their canes. If they walk without it or put it away when it’s inconvenient, they’re faking”: WRONG! Many cane users are what we call “ambulatory” cane users. This means they don’t always need their canes to walk. I’m an ambulatory cane user, and I experience really horrible leg pain on the daily. However, I don’t always use my cane, and when I don’t need to walk or stand a lot in a certain place I don’t use it. And when I do use it, I may lift it off the ground or carry it in places that are sandy, gravelly, or otherwise hinder my cane.

“Cane users walk abnormally without their canes, someone who walks normally without their cane is faking”: WRONG! Many ambulatory cane users can walk in a way that seems “normal”. This doesn’t mean they’re not in pain, or not “really disabled”. This just means that their condition doesn’t cause a noticeable difference in walking, and likely manifests in a different way.

“Cane users always need their cane, someone who doesn’t use their cane at home is faking”: WRONG! Cane users may not use their canes at home, because at home they may be able to do things like sit down wherever and whenever, regain more spoons, and use other mobility aids. Additionally, some ambulatory cane users only need or use their canes when they are doing something physically taxing, like going on a hike or standing in a long line.

“My cane user friend told me this person looks like they’re faking, so it must be true”: WRONG! Being a cane user doesn’t immediately make you an expert on all different conditions and experiences. Your friend does not know the random cane user walking down the street, they are going off looks and stereotypes. Disabled people are not immune to being ableist.

“They enjoy their cane too much/they’re too happy/they decorate their cane, so they can’t actually be in enough pain to need a cane” WRONG! We’re people like everyone else, and we experience positive emotions too, even if we go through a lot of pain. To me, customizing my cane is like getting a tattoo or putting streaks in my hair, it’s a way of self expression. And we deserve to be able to talk openly about our full experience, which include the parts we’re neutral or happy about.

“They’re one of those cringey teenagers who name themselves arson and like dsmp, so they’re probably faking” WRONG! Do I even have to explain why saying someone isn’t disabled because of their name and interests is messed up and also stupid? Or did you already know that and just wanted to make fun of a disabled teenager?

“They’re too young to be using a cane, so they must be faking” WRONG! there are lots of disabilities or injuries that can cause young people to need a mobility aid. For example, I use a cane for my fibromyalgia.

“They only use it in private places, and never in places where people recognize them, so they must be faking” WRONG! In a world where anyone can just randomly take out their phone, take a picture of a cane user, and post them online to be made fun of, it can be stressful to use a cane in public areas. Also, they may not want people to ask questions, or they may feel embarrassed about it.

“I saw them switch hands, so they must be faking” WRONG! There are different reasons a cane used might do this, but I’m going to use my experience as an example. My fibromyalgia is not consistent. Sometimes one leg hurts more then the other. But as I said, fibromyalgia is inconsistent, and sometimes my other leg will start to hurt more or need more support, which is when I switch hands. And when both my legs hurt equally, I may switch my hand if it’s getting too sore.

“They told me they feel like they’re faking when they use their cane, doesn’t that mean they don’t really need it?” WRONG! Imposter syndrome is strong in a lot of disabled people, especially when for a lot of our lives we were told by doctors that we were fine and just being dramatic. Anxiety is also comorbid with a lot of physically disabilities, which only strengthens this. To add to this, something that I’ve felt and seen other disabled people talk about it, when their disability aid lessens the pain, they start thinking “well I’m not in that much pain so I don’t really need it” even though the reason they’re not in that much pain is because of the aid. I know it seems dumb, but imposter syndrome can be that strong and affects disabled people a lot.

“They don’t have a diagnosis, so they must be faking” WRONG! First of all, diagnoses are expensive. On their own they’re often already expensive, but counting the tons of tests you have to take to confirm the diagnosis? Absolutely ludicrous. Some may also choose not to get a diagnosis, so that they don’t have to deal with the prejudice and setbacks of being diagnosed. Also, some people use a cane for injuries, and for stress or fatigue related pains.

These are only a few of the things I commonly hear from fakeclaimers, and I wanted to just put out a reminder that fakeclaiming hurts the disabled community much, much more than it does ableists. Next time you see someone with a cane switch hands, or someone with a wheelchair stand up, or someone with crutches put them down, before you immediately call them out to a friend, take a picture, or write a post: does your fakeclaim rely on stereotypes? Are your reasons things that apply to ambulatory aid users?

If so, just stop. Be mindful. Please.

[flagellant]

Hello, tumblr! I mentioned this in my stream last night with my friend and collaborator @lakemojave, but here is the official tumblr announcement: I've started a fundraiser to pay for GAS that I can't afford on my own.

I...try my best to appear pretty unflappable on this site, because my online persona relies on that. But about two years ago I was harassed by TE/RFs and no matter how much I tried to forget or get over it, there was a comment that a 17 year old made towards my appearance the has probably been the most devastating thing I've ever felt, and ever since that insult I've grown steadily and steadily more disgusted and anxious about my appearance--specifically my hair.

As an AMAB trans person, I'm of course going to experience male-pattern baldness. Even in cisgender men, more than 75% of them experience some form of heightened anxiety and dysphoria due to hair loss or fear of it. I don't know how those numbers change when talking about trans people, but I can't imagine it's not even higher.

In the interest of full transparency at the cost of, frankly, my pride: I have reached the point in my dysphoria where I am growing to be borderline suicidal. I've struggled with suicidal ideation since I was a young teenager, but this is the first time in over a decade that I've reached a level where I am terrified what will happen when it gets worse.

And so with all that said, I've started a fundraiser on PayPal to try and raise money for my gender-affirming care. Y'all might remember me from the Great Soy Sauce Conspiracy of late December of last year, and maybe also how I stopped working on the project due to mental health reasons. I remember how kind all of you were when I was struggling with living newly on my own trying to afford food and things like convection plates, and it's my hope that I could rely on you all to help me again.

With that said, I've made the decision that if I am able to fulfill this fundraiser's cost...I'm going to pick back up The Mysterious Appearance of Miss Appleton and finally finish it once and for all...in video essay format, because that feels most appropriate to me. I think I'm going to be ready for it this time.

If you've read this far, thank you so much. If you need it, though:

TLDR: I need to get myself gender-affirming surgery because i'm getting real close to suicidal over my dysphoria. I've made a fundraiser for it. If the fundraiser is successful, I'm going to finally finish the video essay for The Mysterious Appearance Of Miss Appleton. Thank you for your time and your help.

[goldsbitch]

Open your eyes

Everyone is self-conscious about their body sometimes. For Y/N's it's always been her small boobs, living in the belief that this would make her unattractive. Can her best friend help out?

warning: light smut, nipple play, blindfold

this one is for the flat chested girlies out there

If only teenagers knew how all of their peers are just as insecure as they are. Might have saved a lot of trouble, sleepless nights and maybe even stop everyone from overthinking and living more of a "just finally kiss me" life.

//

It was a sunny summer afternoon, as per usual, these two late teens, would spend it in a room with all windows covered up, eyes glued to the screen and hands gripping gaming consoles. They grew up as close friends, in fact he was the only one she ever potentially felt comfortable enough to admit her insecurities.

"Still don't get it why you said no," he noted, once again, to the situation where one of his racing friends asked for her number and she declined without providing a reason.

She ignored him the first time he'd address it, hoping he'd just let it go. It was frustrating how much invested he was in that. With a big sigh, she replied the same as she did before. "We are just not the right fit."

Lando, a teenage guy with a massive crush he had yet to decipher, was not satisfied with that answer.

"Don't get it," he said nonchalantly as he blew her head off in the game they were playing.

"Fine!" she responded and nearly threw away her console. She locked eyes with him, still not sure if she wanted to share her deepest insecurity.

He knew her, in the light reflected from her screen he could see on her face that the mood in the room has changed drastically. No more casual fun and games.

"Spill it," he dared, perhaps realizing for the first time why he craved her presence so much. "Was this it?"

She took a deep breath, trying to somehow ignore Lando's intense stare. She would always closed her eyes when something "scary" was in front of her. With her eyes shut, she finally spoke. "It's, um...You know," she said, vaguely pointing around her chest. Poor Lando was so caught of guard he forgot to breathe for a moment. "What?" he said, confused as ever.

Another annoyed sigh. "Don't make me say it, Norris."

"Well, you're really bad at pantomima thing, so I'm afraid you'll have to," he said, keen on not letting this go, his mind trying to ignore his inner disappointment.

"Fine. But promise we will never address this again."

"Promise."

"He just, he seems like the kind of guy who would want a more developed girl..?" she said, still not sure how to communicate it.

"As in all the braincells? I see your point now," he couldn't help himself from teasing her. Ever.

"Dickhead. My boobs," he almost bursted, once again gesturing to her chest. "They are so small. Why would someone like him find that attractive?"

Now, he was truly taken of guard, no idea how to respond, because he could hardly understand. It made the wheels in his head spin. Only at that moment realizing he'd do anything to see her small boobs one day. Y/N mistook his surprised silence as a confirmation of her own insecurities.

//

Once his brain processed the newly found information, Lando understood, as best as he could, where Y/N's insecurity regarding her boobs came from. While he'd never admit it, he often wondered whether he himself was "developed" enough. He had always been smaller than guys his age, something that is hard to hide. Same with breasts, unless you really wanna fake it, you can just tell from the outside.

Ever since that summer afternoon, he started to notice things he did not before. How could he not hear the subtle comments she made so often?

He was hanging out in her room, the last evening before he parted to several races. They were suppose to meet some friends later, so he stopped by, expecting her to be ready, while she was busy trying on a seventh top and still not liking it.

"This one has just too low of a v-neck," she whispered, perhaps more to herself, but ultimately, he did hear her. It's been weeks since the first and last time they spoke about it, Lando managed to pass many comments she made about herself.

But, fuck it this time. It was bothering him endlessly that she was insecure like that.

"That's it, Y/N. You know that the size of the boobs does not matter, right? Guys don't care about that," he stood behind her, locking eyes with her through the mirror she was standing in front of.

She froze, staying silent.

He continued. "Tell me, did a guy ever complain when you slept together?" They would usually share stories of their "achievements" in the past, so he was aware that she was sexually active. It was just that recently, that thought became sort of uncomfortable. Other guys touching her.

She snapped back. "Well, they never complained, but the also never even looked at them, so how could they know!"

"What does that mean?" he asked, once again confused.

She wished her mouth would wait for her brain to approve sometimes. Especially with Lando. There goes nothing. "'I've always kept a shirt on."

Baffled Lando wondered how could those other guys allow it. "So you've never shown your tits to a guy?" he said, almost astonished.

"No...It's not my asset and I know it. My, um...my ass is pretty good?" she defended and he had to try so hard not to picture her, on all knees, spine bending and her ass perked up towards him.

He swallowed, barely believing the words he was about to hear coming from his mouth. "Then show them to me."

Her eyes went wide. "Lando!" They had a close friendship, but not the kind where walk around naked in front of each other.

He held his arms up in defense. "No, I mean...hey, you know me. You have to show them to a guy one day anyway. And I promise I'll tell you the truth. No bullshit." He knew he crossed a line. Which was why he almost did not believe her next word.

"Ok."

To be fair, it did make some sense. If you really look for it. But while he was crushing on her without realizing, she had been crushing on him for months, fully aware of it. There was a tingling in her stomach when he made this suggestion. Unfamiliar, exciting tension. As if she wanted him to stare at her tits, no matter how insecure she felt about them.

"But I can't watch you," she added, turning around to face him. "I'd be too embarassed."

"So close your eyes?" he noted the obvious.

"No, you gotta tie my eyes," she said, making his cock twitch in his pants.

//

It was hard for Lando to wrap around his head what exactly was happening. As he was tieing up a band around Y/N eyes, she accidentally touched his hands when she was checking it.

"It is too tight?" he asked softly, waiting for her to deny it.

"All good."

He stepped away and turned her around so that she would stand face-to-face with him.

"Um, whenever you're ready, I guess," he announced. Part of him could not believe what was happening, another part of his was scared she's back out and another was terrified of himself. And how much he craved to see her.

She took a deep breath and tried to block all her thoughts. And boy, were there many. The strangest one was the excitement.

With one swift move she took her shirt off. Lando's pupils were wide and he probably didn't blink for minutes now. She bit her lower lip and turned around to face him. He had seen her in a bikini before, why was this so much better. She put her hands back and finally took her bra off.

He should have never suggested it. He knew he'd not forget the sight of her small, perky boobs with perfect nipples anytime soon. It was better when he did not know. He stared in silence, while she stood there, blindfolded, nervously rubbing her fingers.

"Gosh, say something, please," she pleaded impatiently.

"Um...No, um," he said, getting his voice stuck for a moment.

"Oh shit, it's bad, right?" she asked, while her heart sank in.

"No!," he immediately reacted, somewhat coming back to Earth. "They are...nice," he said, trying to downplay his own excitement. "Small, but nice. Firm...I guess."

She sighed. "Ok..."

He shifted himself, gaining more presence again. He was aware that what he said would affect her deeply, so his plan was to fix his initial reaction, not to make her wonder. "Seriously. If a girl I was on a date with had your boobs, I'd be more than happy. Trust me."

She relaxed a bit and instinctively went to somewhat cover herself up again with her hands. "That's good to know. Thank you."

He wanted more. To see more. His hormones acted before he did, shooting the boldest test of their friendship.

"There is one thing my sister mentioned few times..." he said before he managed to stop himself. "Apparently...if you massage them, it helps the blood flow and helps them grow," he stated, almost ashamed of himself for making things up like that. It was wrong. He should have just tell her upfront just how much he wants ti touch her.

She knew well enough that was some bullshit. But it was a chance. To know what if feels like when a guy like Lando touches you.

"Um, this might sound weird, but, um, can you show me?" she asked, blinfold giving her the courage she normally lacked.

He could not believe he had standing in front of him, bare-chested, blindfolded and oh so innocent. This sight was awakening parts of him he did not know existed. At that point, he was hard as a rock.

"Yeah, I guess I could do that. But, you should probably lie down," he suggested and took her hand in his, leading her slowly to her bed. She could already feel the fire of his touch when he touched her shoulder. Lando shamelessly watched her nipples harden once he did. The blindfold was a miracle.

He laid her down on her back and popped himself up on his elbows on her left side. Now that they were on the bed, he started to feel more at ease and all of it felt less wrong. She couldn't see him, but his warmth radiated on her naked chest and his intoxicating cologne hit her nose once he put her down.

What she couldn't see was the way he smiled softly at the sights in front of him, taking his time to create as much imagery in his memory as possible. She shivered with cold.

"You should start, I'm getting cold," she said impatiently.

"Anything you want, baby" he replied absentmindedly, not noticing the way he addressed her. The word would ring in her ears for days on. Lando completely forgot what game he was suppose to play. His brain left the conversation a while ago and he was fully focused on the picture in front if him. He had lying down and waiting for his touch.

He started with her left nipple, lightly, feathery, almost non existent touch. His eyes were flashing between watching her chest rise up and down and her face. She bit her lower lip, as if she was trying to hide the way it affected her. He couldn't help but smile and lick his lips. He began tracing little figured of eight on the top of her nipple and when he was sure he got her sensitive enough, he pinched her for the first time. A soft, surprised sigh escaped her mouth. He did not have think about his actions at all, it was all so natural and easy. He pinched her nipple once again, harder this time, before he moved onto cupping her breast and giving it a squeeze, while watching her attentively. She pulled her head back a bit and he knew he had her. Afraid to speak, he continued to squeeze her and then traced her up and down, making sure not to miss her nipple anytime he did.

"The other one," she whispered so quietly he nearly missed it. But he didn't. With a smirk, he kept his hand on her left nipple, and reached over to her right breast. All of the adrenaline hitting up, he leaned over and when his mouth was almost touching her, then carefully licked her nipple. He watched her, half expecting her to freak out and send him away. To his satisfaction, she flinched in a way he never saw he before. There was something sensual, primal about the way air exited her mouth. Still blindfolded, she had no idea his eyes were glued on her face. If they weren't, he'd probably miss out on her soft "More...". He started kissing and gently biting the rest of her boobs, painting pictures with red bruises. She arched up a bit, as if her body was trying to get closer to him. First moan escaped her lips like a shy whisper. The rest that followed were unfiltered, mindless proof that she was fully in the moment. He got more and more excited, his cock hard as a rock, begging to get released. But he was afraid anything more would cause her to back off. So he continued with this actions, switching up between her nipples, breasts and sometimes roamed over to the neck. To get carried away was the easiest thing ever. As he tasted her skin, he got intoxicated. She surprised him when her hands reached out to his own body, done playing the passenger and joining on action. First she ran her fingers through his hair, pushing him more to her chest and then her soft fingers reached over to his shirt, movement suggesting to pull it off. This sort of woke him up back again. He pulled his shirt off and watched her smile when she noticed his bare chest.

"Now we're even," she commented and with no shame touched all around his muscles. A small alarm was going off in Lando's head. He was enjoying this a little too much. The realization that the line that got crossed was out of sight at that point hit him. So he chose to try and get even further. He leaned over to her face and licked the line of neck, stopping right at her ears. Then he bit her earlobe before wetting it with his tongue and blowing lightly on it. The shivers again. He could watch that all day. She melted into his embrace, arching towards him once again. Lando placed slow kisses on her cheek, one by one, until he got so close to her lips he could feel her breath mixing with his own. He hovered, prolonging this moment, the last seconds before it inevitably all fell down. Her chest was rising up and down rapidly. "Do it," she whispered, their lips almost touching accidentally. He waited for few moments, biting his own lip while wishing it was hers. "Not like this," he said, catching her off guard. Before she had a chance to respond, he reached over to her blindfold and removed it. Their eyes met for what felt like the first time. He saw high, excitement and a hint of fear, as she adjusted to the light and to the sight of him being so close. Reality check.

"Can I kiss you now?" he pleaded softly, staring at her, desperate for her answer.

It was all very different and very much real when she could see him. She gulped before taking the leap, falling into the trap that were his incredibly blueish green eyes.

"Yes."

[venusbyline]

Birthday ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 19, oct.

(late post)

— pairing: Spencer Reid x sex worker!reader x Derek Morgan x Aaron Hotchner

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: foursome FMMM

— summary: Morgan hires a prostitute to her finally take his best friend's virginity.

— word count: 1.2k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 19th day, female!reader, virgin!Reid, shy!Reid, foursome (female/male/male/male), oral (male receiving), loss of virginity, praise kink, cowgirl position, handjob (male giving), Moreid, age gap (older men/older woman/younger man), birthday present, prostitution, drunk sex, rough kissing, orgy, corruption kink, implied/referenced cheating, infidelity, light overstimulation, breast worship, butt worship, nipple play, minor Aaron Hotchner x Haley Hotchner, bisexual(?)!Reid, bisexual!Morgan, married!Hotch, Lila Archer Mentioned, minor Spencer Reid x Lila Archer, ambiguous/open ending, curse words, sub!Reid, dom!Morgan, dom!Hotch, switch!reader, canon divergence, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

"You're gonna love your birthday present, Pretty Boy."

That's what Morgan said to Spencer after his birthday party. He was finally becoming more of an adult, gaining more respect from the team. Everything was going perfectly. Now, Spencer Reid was no longer just a shy and genius little boy, he was also proving to be a man worthy of working in the BAU, not just because of his extremely intelligent brain.

Reid was not as shy as before, he was slowly loosening up. His germophobia was also getting better and better. Everything was going well. He was maturing.

However, he still had his virginity intact.

The entire BAU was surprised when Spencer accidentally confessed about his lack of sexual experience during his birthday party. It was a shock to everyone, even though it was so obvious. The team thought he would have at least one experience or another for the roster, but the fact that he entered college as a teenager had ruined everything. Even though he was handsome as hell now, Spencer was a complex person whose brain worked too fast for anyone to even try to fully understand, no girl never had much patience to flirt with him for more than a few days, and his excessive shyness did not do much for his situation. The few kisses he had already exchanged with some girls had never gone further. The only time he felt tempted to continue had been with Lila Archer, which did not happen.

Spencer did not plan on telling anyone about his virginity. It was a shameful matter that he would rather keep secret forever. If it were not for the alcohol consumed during the night, he might never have confessed. None of his friends would know about this part of his life. If it were not for the whiskey, he would probably remain a virgin forever.

"F-Fuck. I can't..." Reid whimpered like a pathetic little boy as he squirmed in his seat, clenching his hands into fists and arching his head back, eyes closed and lips pink and already swollen from biting them. "Her mouth is so good..."

Morgan laughed at the sight of his best friend becoming a noisy mess every time you on your knees in front of him masterfully sucked on the tip of his cock. The boy's moans echoed in the room and went straight to Morgan's cock.

"How do you feel?" Morgan asked Reid, stroking his friend's brown hair as he finally opened his eyes, biting his lip again and trying to give a concentrated answer, but it went from tearful moans, which caused a chuckle from both Morgan and Hotch, who was just watching the scene. "You should try to have fun with us."

"Men aren't my thing, much less the kid one there." Hotch grumbled and Spencer pouted his lips sadly, giving his boss his puppy eyes.

It was Morgan's turn to roll his eyes, pulling Spencer's hair back a little to lick his neck, his teeth nibbling on the soft, vulnerable skin, causing Spencer to start to lift his hips desperately with his cock inside your mouth, in a desperate attempt to reach orgasm faster. "See, sweetheart? You're doing amazing."

Morgan used his free hand to stroke your hair, your eyes shining at him in confirmation, before you turned to Spencer, letting go of his cock when you noticed he was going to cum any moment ago. The big sad eyes on Reid's face caused laughter between you and the other two agents.

"Relax, kid. If you cum inside her mouth now, you won't be able to fuck her tight pussy anytime soon." It was Hotch who muttered a little grumpily, trying to hide the slightly sadistic smirk when he saw the tears of despair running down the genius' face.

Morgan gestured for you to stand up, your body covered by only a white lace panties that seemed to be tucked into your ass, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Hotch and Morgan bit their lips, while Spencer whimpered, trying to squirm in the seat so he could touch you. He had never touched a woman's breasts or ass before.

Hotch scoffed when he saw the pleading in Spencer's face. "Looks like someone is very eager."

Morgan followed Hotch's gaze, diverting his attention from your ass for a while so he could watch the younger boy's despair, enjoying it. "I guess you should stop his suffering for a bit. His brain is gonna break if you don't let him fuck you soon."

Morgan's suggestion made you laugh. "Virgins..." You rolled your eyes playfully, but it caused a sad pout from Reid, too confused and desperate to understand that it was nothing more than a teasing. As soon as you took off the lace fabric and threw it to Hotch, you heard him growl. He did not like prostitutes and had been completely against hiring one for Spencer to lose his virginity. But Morgan had convinced him. At first, he had said he would just watch, but the moment you wrapped the condom around Spencer's cock and gently fitted it in, his mind went into a frenzy.

That was one of the hottest scenes Hotch had ever seen. The youngest of the team crying with so much pleasure after having his cock stuck in a wet pussy for the first time. Your ass shaking every time you bounced on him, your own hands cupping your breasts and staring into Spencer's submissive gaze, those beautiful eyes filled with tears. The way Morgan grabbed Spencer by the neck, distracting him from watching your pretty breasts for a while, while now he felt his thin lips being crushed by Morgan's mouth with an aggressive kiss, his hand going down the older agent's pants by instinct.

Hotch had not liked that plan at all. He thought it was absurd. He did not like prostitutes. He did not like it when two BAU members got involved, even casually. This should all be disgusting and repulsive.

However, when Morgan and Spencer were still kissing, Morgan's bit heavy hand crushing your breast while Spencer's slender fingers played with your other nipple, it all became too much. Every moan that left your lips with the overstimulation caused by your breasts being used or by your wet pussy riding non-stop on Spencer's virgin cock. The whimpers that came out of Spencer at the new and incredible sensation, in addition to Morgan's intense kisses. The growls that Morgan let out while Spencer hangjob him with an inexperienced and almost stupid way, which made everything even more perfect.

Hotch should hate this and go away, go back to his wife and pretend he did not see any of it. The problem was, he knew that would be impossible. He wanted to continue, he wanted to feel everything too. Feeling his sex life a little more interesting in all the chaos that was his career and his marriage.

"I'm serious. I really don't like guys." Hotch warned again with an uncomfortable face, almost as uncomfortable as the tightness in his pants. You, Morgan, and even Spencer shared a few soft chuckles when Hotch snorted and took off his tie, unbuttoning his white dress shirt and throwing it to the floor before grabbing you by the neck, kissing your skin while you continued to ride Spencer.

"So that won't be a problem, Sir. I'm not a guy, I'm just a whore. All of you three can use me however you want." You scoffed and Hotch huffed, nodding then and licking your earlobe, his hands moving your hips to encourage you to go faster on top of Reid.

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[seresinhangmanjake]

Always His Girl: Preview

Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: A decade ago you were hurt by Jake Seresin. Now you have to work with him, and while you'd rather avoid any drama or rehashing of the past, Jake is determined to get you to forgive and accept him.

Notes/Warnings: this is just a little preview of the first part of this mini-series (likely three parts or so, if people are interested). Based on an idea from @tgmreader.

Words: 500

Jake Seresin Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

There’s something about you, he thinks as you shake his hand. He doesn’t know how to explain it, but with your touch there’s an electric shock, a bolt of remembrance, a lingering memory that he can’t quite grasp. It’s with the offering of your name that his memories knock him upside the head. 

Surely, this is a joke. You're playing him. You might not have seen one another since high school, but how can you pretend not to know him when his lips have been on yours? How can you pretend while he still remembers what the delicate skin of your neck tasted like? For a senseless second, he wonders if after ten years you still taste the same. 

In fairness, he didn’t recognize you. But how could he be expected to? You’re not a teenager anymore. You blossomed in a way he didn’t. He’s always looked as he looks now. He’s always had the perfectly styled hair and the muscles and the smirk, but you…you’re something else. 

You’ve lost your braces, tamed your hair—but not too much. And good, he liked your hair—and your curves have finally filled out your clothes. You have a waist that would perfectly fit his hands.

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing almost painfully as his eyes follow you making your way down the line of his team, shaking their hands as you shook his, smiling as brightly as you smiled at him. A pang of jealousy tells him he should get special treatment; a hug, a squeal of excitement at seeing him again—something—but he knows that is a ridiculous demand to make after what happened between you. 

You likely hate him. He’s spent a decade hating a piece of himself for what he did, too, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about where you’d both be if you never found out the kiss was a dare. You might have developed into more. When he kissed you, he’d thought: fuck his friends. He’d kissed you and it felt good and he kept going and he didn’t want to stop, and had you not been interrupted, he wouldn't have.

There’s been few since who have made him feel quite like that. A college girlfriend, a friend from early training, and you.

“I'm honored to be working with such a highly skilled team,” you say. You say some other things, stuff about studying their flying and calculations and…and…he has no idea. He's too focused on your mouth as it forms the words. Pinkish lip gloss that he's willing to bet tastes like cherries, just like in school.

“We're happy to have you,” Javy replies, tugging at Jake's attention. 

He glances down the line. Everyone sports kind smiles and nods of approval, with the exception of Rooster, who looks like he just fell off a cliff into dreamland as he stares at you. 

Jake's heart thuds. Unacceptable. Whatever that look is, it's got to go, because if you're anyone's girl here, you're his.

---

A/N: Let me know if you want to read more of this. You don't have to, but it's my birthday, so as a present please tell me if you're genuinely interested. If you're not, no worries :)

[reidmania]

IN BETWEEN | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot series masterlist

part one, part two, part three

summary; after meeting in person for the first time, you and spencer only fall deeper when you visit him.

warnings; pure fluff again, they’re love sick fools ur honour. fem reader, briefly mentions of anxiety and overthinking, they make each other flustered and nervous.

an; there could most definitely be a part three if u guys want one bc theres still the bridge of the song?? this fic literally sent me to the grave never again am i writing this much in one sitting i might lose all my sanity.

tags: @reidmarieprentiss @spencerreidsreads

‘he laughs at her eyes, at her smile, at the glasses on her face, he loves how he talks late at night, when there's no one else to say, how she's beautiful and funny and smart like nothin' he's ever seen, he's good to her and she wants it more than everything in between’

<>

You didn’t think your hands had ever pulled your phone from your pocket quicker than the minute it started ringing, excitement and something more lingering in your mind when Spencer’s name lit up on your screen. A smile found place on your face as you leant against the shopping cart you had been pushing around.

The minute you answered you heard him breathe out a sigh of relief, “I am so glad you answered” Was the first thing he said, it made your smile widen as you held the phone to your ear, your other hand pushing the cart forward.

“When have I not answered- I always answer” You mutter out. It was true, not so much because you were always on your phone but because Spencer had your schedule memorised. He knew exactly when you would be free and when you wouldn’t, unless something came up but you always made sure to let him know before hand. After finding out how much he panicked when you internet went out and you didn’t email him for three days, you didn’t want him to have to worry like that again.

You heard a warm chuckle through the phone, it sent the warmth straight to your chest. “The 5th, I called you at 2:43 and you didn’t answer” He memorised. It made your heart fill with fondness and butterflies alight your stomach. Despite the roll of your eyes as you thought back to the date.

“I was at work! I called you back literally two seconds later, that doesn’t count” You mumbled out as your free hand reached for the shelves, placing the products in your cart gently before moving on.

You could picture his grin, on the other side of the phone. You knew he was at work, like he was more often than not. It didn’t stop him from going out of his way to check in on you throughout the day, and deep down you knew how important it was to him that he did so.

“I miss you” He said quietly, not bothering to add anything to the previous topic. His words made you grin as your lip became tucked under your teeth. You were sure to anyone else around you, you looked like a lovesick teenager. You felt like one too.

It had been two weeks since you saw Spencer for the first time, the kiss played repeatedly in your head as if your brain was rewinding a clip a million times, it made your cheeks burn all the same every time. You two hadn’t necessarily talked about it, but it wasn’t like either of you were avidly avoiding it.

It was enough to ensure Spencer felt some way about you, some way more than friends or internet buddies. The two of you saw each other again the next day, where you went to the a bookstore and a little cafe. He remembered you rambling in an email about the small bookstore you adored on the corner of the street near your work and then when you nervously muttered about it over the phone in the morning, he asked you to show him it.

“I know, I miss you too.” You said softly as you decided you had enough of grocery shopping, you had gotten most of the things you needed and everything else you could live without. You pushed your cart towards the checkout line.

He smiled, you couldn’t see it but it was clear enough in his voice to make your heart swell at the image in your head. “Do you have any time off work?” He asked, almost nervously.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you tucked the phone into your shoulder, holding it in place with your head by your ear while you scanned your items at the self checkout. “Um, not anytime soon but I have accumulated enough sick days if necessary. Is everything okay?” You asked, slightly concerned at his sudden inquiry about your days off.

He hummed through the phone before you heard some shuffling, voices in the background but nothing clear enough that you could pick up on. “Everything is fine but, I miss you” He repeated, as his explanation for his previous question.

You didn’t know if there were any words that could explain the feeling that bubbled in your stomach. The butterflies that seemed to live there now taking over your ribcage.

You paid for your groceries before taking the bags in your hand and returning the cart, hard to do with the phone pressed tightly between your ear and shoulder, but you managed, carrying the bags in one hand towards your car as you took the phone back in your hand.

“Is this you asking me to come see you?”

It came out more teasing than you intended originally, but the soft laugh and idea of his cheeks slightly tinted was enough for you to mean it all the same. There was a moment of silence before he sighed.

“Yes.” He said, before he turned into a rambling mess trying to over justify what didn’t need any justification.

“I can pay for your flight - and If you’re worried about work I’ll pay you your rate. I’ll take time off work as well. You can stay at mine- If you want to of course, you don’t have to. Theres some good hotels close by as well.. not the one i was telling you about the other day, the crime rates there are substantially higher than any others. I think we have had six different cases there alone, Its honestly shocking it hasn’t been shut down yet. Between the crime rates and the horrible reviews I don’t truely understand how they still get business, two people every week thats not a lot of money so they must be getting it else where, especially because there prices are so low, maybe thats why people still go there, ignore the bad reviews and go anyways”

You smiled fondly, letting the boy ramble as you got into your car after placing the groceries in the back seat. You connected your phone to the blue tooth of your car, his ramble ringing out through the radio.

“What reviews does your place have?” You cut him off, a hint of teasing in your voice. His rambling stopped and he went silent for a minute, making your smile only widen when you realised you had flustered the man.

He almost squeaked when he talked, “None so far.. I can give you one though.” He muttered out trying to play along. Spencer got a lot less flustered now than he would’ve a few years ago, you knew that because he told you how much of a nervous awkward mess he was then. You found it cute.

Still, you had a way of bringing that back out of him.

“Go on” You encouraged softly, playfulness lacing your tone.

“Well it’s extraordinarily clean.. Warm too, but not too warm to the point it’s.. too warm.” He cleared his throat awkwardly when realising he had repeated himself. “It’s adjustable— The temperature, if it’s too warm or not warm enough it can be um- adjusted. This is more difficult than I thought”

You bite your lip, shaking your head, deciding to put the boy out of his misery. “And you call me a nervous rambler. Of course I’ll come see you, and stay with you.. If you want that. You’re also not going to pay for my flight, spence. You don’t need to pay me to hang out with you” You breathed out.

“I don’t want to make you pay for a plane ticket when I’m the one asking you to come see me.” He said, his voice quiet and sincere. You knew he meant every word and it made your smile dampen slightly.

You sighed, “Don’t act like I don’t want to see you just as much.” You said as you turned your keys in the ignition of your car, looking behind you for a moment as you reversed out of the parking space.

“Are you driving?” He asked.

You nodded, a common occurrence of you forgetting he was unable to see you. Sometimes you forgot he wasn’t right there. “Uh- Yeah I’m leaving the store. You’re connected to my bluetooth. Im being safe” You said, reassuring him of your safety before he even had the chance to ask.

You wondered if his worry for your safety would decreased if you lived closer to him. If he was able to see you and talk to you more. You weren’t sure what specifically spiked his worry but his constant need to know you were okay, it made your chest tighten in the grip of warm hands.

After muttering a quiet, “okay, good” He jumped back to the previous topic before he heard the beeping of you reversing. “I want you to stay here as long as you’re comfortable with it.” He said.

“Of course I am. When do you want me to come? Theres nothing important going on at the office — Like always. so I can basically come whenever..”

Spencer breathed out a laugh before he was called back to the conference room. You heard Hotch’s voice which you had gotten more familiar with the more you talked to Spencer. “I have to go, I’ll talk to Hotch tonight and find out when its best for me to have off and I’ll call you tonight okay?”

You agree and bid your goodbye, theres a moment of comfortable silence mixed with longing before he mutters a similar sort of reply mixed with an apology for having to go, before the call ended.

A week later, the sound of chaos filled your ears the minute you got off the plane while waiting for your bag, young kids running around trying to catch one another, a man missing his flight, families reuniting. The chaos was a bittersweet feeling that provided a weird calming sensation to your nerves.

You knew the minute you saw Spencer everything would be fine, but it didn’t stop the anxiety that dwindled, with the thoughts of every possible wrong outcome that may occur. It was thoughts you tried to ignore, and avoid but sometimes they made their way and consumed all your thoughts.

Once getting your bag you were able to wander towards the airport entrance way where Spencer had told you he would be. Your eyes searched the other people waiting for their own people, along with other biding goodbye.

When your eyes landed on his own you were pretty sure you could feel your heart bruising your ribcage. You wondered if you looked silly standing there looking around but those thoughts were quickly forgotten when he started walking towards you, meeting you half way as you too walked towards him.

The minute you were in reach his arms were around your waist, your body pulled flush against his. A smile filled the space on your face as your arms reached to wrap around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to better reach before he was lifting you off the ground.

A laugh left your lips before you could stop it, it was only for a moment before he was placing you back on the ground, burying his head in between your neck and shoulder as if it belonged there. The scent of his cologne mixed with his body wash took over your senses, consuming your mind.

“Hi” You whispered as you pulled back to look at his face, you felt your face flush slightly as his eyes lowered over your face, a goofy sort of smile on his face, his own cheeks flushed.

“Hi.” He whispered back.

You weren’t sure what to say but it didn’t matter, he was already taking your hand and leading you to his car, asking about your flight until you were pulling your seatbelt on, his gaze was focused on you completely, his body turned in the drivers seat to look at you.

“I came straight from work, I was worried traffic would be horrible and I wouldn’t get here in time.” He said softly as his hand brushed up to curl in on your jaw.

You leant into his touch, “I could’ve waited.” You said, the warmth of his hand sending your skin into a frenzy.

He tilted his head to the side to mirror how you leant into his touch, a wonky smile as he squinted his eye slightly. “I didn’t want you to have to wait.” He said, his voice did that thing you had grown all too familiar with, where it went slightly higher in sincerity.

You smiled, “Well you made it, is there some scientific facts behind that.” You asked, looking up at him with slight soft eyes. You knew Spencer would take any opportunity possible to ramble about statistics and scientific things you didn’t quite understand a lot of the time, you’d listen and love it regardless.

He paused slightly, his eyebrows furrowed. “Uh- Im sure there is.. I- Um.” You mirrored his expression, eyebrows furrowed slightly at his words.

“Sorry- I- I can’t think straight. You look so pretty” His words went straight to your chest and you could’ve swore you would’ve married him on the spot, you knew deep down that was dramatic when all he did was compliment you, but it was more than that. It was the way he said it with such honesty, so gently. The way he was looking at you like you were the only person in the world.

You felt the need to change the topic. Your face slightly pulled away from his hands as you replaced them with your own hands, trying to cool the burning of your cheeks at his words. He smiled and started the car.

You let your hands cool your cheeks. “Was work okay?” You mumbled out as you turned your head back to face him, you admired the way his jawline looked and the way his hands looked holding the steering wheel, which did not help your face cool down. Your hands pulled away from your face, to rest together gently in your lap.

He looked away from the road for a moment to glance at you. His own expression slightly flustered making your heart skip a beat before his eyes returned to the road.

“No- Well yeah- It was fine. Boring, nothing real interesting just paperwork all day.. I was just, hanging out for it to be over so I could see you. How was the flight?” He asked through a breathy chuckle, his eyes glancing back towards yours for a second, noticing the way your fingers fidgeted with themselves.

He decided to leave out how all day Derek had teased him about you, saying anything he could to make Spencer’s cheeks heat. He didn’t mention the way when Emily asked why he was so moody all day he went on nearly an hour long ramble about how he just wanted the day to be over because you would be there, and then went into detail about how he had cleaned his house, bleaching it entirely just so there was absolutely no chance of any germs you couldn’t contract.

“I was stressing, honestly. The airport was so busy when I got there— Like there was a million people, I’m not even kidding. I’ve never been so.. overwhelmed by people and normally I don’t mind but there was a lot of people Spence. Oh and then the man tried to tell me my flight was wrong, and I wanted to cry — like break down into tears in the middle of the airport, then he got his boss and everything was fine, he just read the ticket wrong. I also fell asleep and woke up to the kid next to me asking if id play uno with him — So I did of course”

The simple answer turned into one of your nervous blabbering sentiments he had come to adore. His hand reached over from the steering wheel while the other remained on it, it hovered slightly over yours for a second. Your breath hitched slightly cutting off your ramble, you swore at this rate you would be dead from your heart rate being too high before you even got the chance to see Spencer’s house.

When his hand peeled yours away from your lap to interlace your fingers with his your head turned towards his, a soft smile on your face as your eyes met his for a moment when he stopped at a redlight.

“Is this okay?” He asked quietly, as if he was nervous you might push him away. Your hand softened in his gentle grasp, squeezing his hand gently you smiled and nodded.

“This is perfect” You breathed out.

"I don't have a guest room- I should've mentioned that" Spencer said, he was leaning against the back of the couch watching you as you stood in front of his book shelf, eyes scanning over the large amount of books, your mind dancing with the memory of when he had emailed you telling you he needed one, because his books were just in piles across his living room.

You smiled fondly at the memory before you turned your head to look over your shoulder at him, eyebrows pinched together. You weren't sure what to say, was he telling you that you'd be sharing a room with him? was he saying you'd be sleeping on the sofa? was he kicking you out and telling you to find a hotel?

You pursed your lips slightly, "Right.." You hummed as you turned your body to face him. You weren't sure what you were expecting honestly, sure you spent the last week leading up to this wondering but it never went much further until you got distraction making up different scenarios and interactions in your head that you'd fall asleep thinking about.

Spencer looked awkward for the briefest moment, before he let out a breathy laugh. "You um- We can- You can sleep in my room" He said, he spoke like the words were trying to be held back in his throat. It made you smile.

"And then where will you sleep?" You asked, raising your eyebrow curiously at him.

His eyebrows dipped, "Well- In my room as well- if you are comfortable with that, or I could sleep on the sofa." He said, the crimson heat making its way over his cheeks. You couldn't help the way your smile widened.

Your head tilted, "You know, I think that would be okay." You said, your smile almost giddy as you walked towards him. He let out a heavy exhale he didn't know he was holding it at your words as the smile made its way to his face -- looking the same sort of giddy.

"Yeah you think so?" He asked, the teasing tone as if he wasn't the one flustered and nervous almost seconds ago. You nodded your head in agreement as you moved to stand in front of him. A odd overwhelming need to be closer, one you couldn't explain.

He didn't seem to mind, nor did he question it as his hands hesitantly moved to wrap around your waist. You only smiled as you found your place against his chest, letting out a gentle breath as his scent overwhelmed your senses.

There was something so comforting about his scent, there was a fresh hint from his aftershave and then something that resembled the smell of old paperbacks and espresso, it was so delicate while being intoxicating all at once. There was something familiar about it even though it wasn't a combination you had ever smelt before meeting Spencer in person.

Yet it was the sort of scent the resembled a warm hug on a cold evening at sunset, or the warmth of a smile from an old lady in a cafe on an early sunday morning.

"When did you get a book shelf?" You asked, your voice slighly muffled by the cotton of his sweater, he hadn't told you about getting it. He hummed softly and you felt the vibrations from his chest against your ear.

"Yesterday, figured you deserved better than a house full of books all over the floor." He said, his voice was quiet and just loud enough for you to hear slightly raspy as his hand gently pressed against your back, brushing over the fabric of your own sweater.

You felt your heartbeat genuinely stutter at his words, the way his voice sounded. You were standing in his arms with not a clue in the world of what any of this meant between you, but you knew you didn't want it to end, not now, not ever.

"I wouldn't of minded" You said in the same quiet tone, as if there were other people around that the two of you were trying to hide your conversation from. There wasn't, it was just the two of you yet the conversation felt intimate and sweet and it ingraved its place in your memory.

His head shifting slightly from where it rested ontop of yours. You could've swore you felt his lips brush against the top of your head, you wondered if you imagined it, made it up in your head.

"I know" He whispered softly.

The rest of the evening consisted of you and Spencer attempting to make nacho's (which was more of you making them and him leaning against the counter staring at you), making him watch the notebook after finding out he had never seen it and then regretting it when you both spent the next thirty minutes bawling like babies into each others arms.

You also spent a while trying to convince him to let you paint his nails, before giving up. He probably would've gave in if you persisted for more than two minutes before getting distracted.

Now, you had just walked out of the bathroom after changing into your pyjamas while Spencer was already sitting against the headboard, a book perched up in his hands. You stood silently watching in awe as he went through 4 pages in the time it would've take you to read one, also part focused on his hands and the way they wrapped held the book

He looked up from the book noticing you standing there, your eyes lifted to meet his. He offered you a soft smile and sat up a bit more, shuffling a bit more to the side to allow you extra room on the bed. You realised that you were still standing which made the back of your neck heat in embarrasment.

You walked over to the bed, his eyes followed you as you moved, you sat down next to him as if it was normal, like muscle memory even though you had never done it before, the idea of everything feeling so unrulely natual with Spencer made your mind a mess as you wondered what is what about him that made everything seem so.. Safe.

"Is this okay?" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of his voice, your eyes met his as you nodded briefly before your eyes moved back to the book in his hands, you shuffled slightly closer to him without thinking, but he had no complaints when one of his hands left the book to wrap his arm around your shoulder.

Goosebums followed where his arm laid, "Can you read aloud as fast as you can read in your head?" You asked, almost absent mindedly as you thought about what it would be like to read 20,000 words aloud in a minute, you knew his brain could process that much information but that was just because he was brilliant -- He didn't need to explain the facts to you about it, you had already decided, it was just because he was brilliant.

He laughed softly, "No, your brain can work a lot faster than your mouth can" He said softly as his finger tips brushed over your arm, a smile on his face as he looked down at you, his eyes as warm as his hand felt against your skin.

"Okay good" You mumbled out, you looked back at him for a moment feeling slightly nervous under his gaze, "What are you reading?" You asked as you shifted slightly to see the title of the book, he helped by flipping the book to its side, his fingers in between the pages to keep his place.

You 'oohed' softly, making a soft chuckle leave his lips as you leant back against his arm. He kept his eyes on you, a fond smile filling the space of his cheeks. "Its about the pyscology of love" He muttered softly, eyes trailing over your face.

You wondered if he could feel your heart beat increase in your back as it pressed against his arm. You didn't mean to pay it any thought, but the way his voice got quieter and his eyes were looking into yours. You couldn't help it.

"Read it to me?" You asked, chewing at the inside of your bottom lip nervously. You weren't sure if you would understand it completely but you didn't really mind, more focused on just listening to Spencer read.

His eyes widened slightly as if he wasn't expecting it. There was something in his eyes, and emotion you couldn't quite place. "Y-yeah, Yeah, Of course" He fumbled over his words

You pulled your eyes away from his to shuffle down more to have your head resting against his chest, his arm followed your body still wrapping around you tightly. There was a moment of silence before you heard him clear his throat and began reading the words on the page, his voice sweet and gentle with every word.

You didn't mean to, really but within minutes your breathing had slowed and your muscles relaxed in his touch as you fell asleep. He didn't have to look at you to know that, he could tell by the soft breaths that left your lips as his words paused for a moment, before he leant down to brush his lips against the top of your head gently.

He continued reading aloud despite you already being asleep, his voice was quieter and softer, but he continued just in case you woke up.

"Should I be concerned about your sugar intake?" You asked, a warm smile on your face as you watched the man pour his tenth sugar into his large coffee, after the two of you made the decision to go for a walk around. You had borrowed one of his scarfs that was wrapped gently around your neck over the knitted sweater you were wearing. Your hands were intertwined for the most part until now, when he was tearing open sugar packets.

He grinned as he added one more before stiring the otherwise plain black coffee with the wooden stick, disposing of it then placing the lid back on his cup. "They never add enough sugar, I hate it how people at have to add their own" Spencer smiled as he tilted his head at you.

You scoffed playfully as you held up your own coffee cup as he other hand came to hold yours as the two of you made your way out of the small coffee shop. "I didn't" You reminded, waiting for his reply before you finished your idea for a joke as you tilted your head to look up at him.

He hummed, amused as he glanced down at you, "Yeah 'cause your sweet enough" He finished the joke for you.

You gasped, as if he just completely read your mind, playing into your running joke "Exactly!! See if we were both thinking it, it must be true" You sigh out dramatically, the smile on your lips never fading.

"Must be" He agreed, biting back as wide grin as his eyes pulled away from yours for a moment, looking around the street he was looking down, his eyes stopping on a little flower shop.

"Thats where I was when I got your email.. Your first one" He muttered out softly, your turn to follow his gaze. Your chest going fuzzy at how this all started at such a sweet place, a flower shop.

"I was with Derek, we were suppose to be picking up coffee for the rest of the team but then he got distracted wanting to ask out a girl who was in here.. I was forced to stay here for about an hour as they talked and then eventually he brought her flowers, but I was a sitting--" He pauses to point at a chair outside the flower shop, next to a little table, the rest of his hand still wrapped around the coffee cup.

"There. I was reading through my emails and I remember reading the one from you and I was so embarrased, I wasn't going to reply at first, but there was just something- I don't know but I'm really glad i did" He rambled.

You listened silently and fondly as you could almost remember the day like the back of your hand, unfotunately your experience wasn't as sweet as his or in any pretty place like a flower shop, instead you were in your office when you had gotten his email. He turned his head to look at you with a soft smile.

"I'm really glad you did too" You said honestly.

His eyes lingered on yours for a second before he smiled, "Come with me" He said gently as he started walking. You laughed, as if you were going to go anywhere else. You followed him, hand in hand as he walked towards the flower shop he had been talking about.

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly as he pulled you inside. It was a sweet smelling store, you looked around the pretty flowers in different bouquets, before turning back to look at Spencer, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

His eyes were scanning the store for the flowers he remembered you telling him were your favourites, he remembered everything you told him, even if he didn't want to he couldn't help it. The minute Spencer saw them in the back corner of the store he was dragging you towards them gently, not missing the sound of your laugh ringing through his ears -- another thing about you he would never forget.

He had been grateful for his eidetic memory many times in his life but never more than the moment he saw your face light up at the sight of the flowers, and moreso at the fact that he did remember -- you knew deep down he remembered everything but it didn't make it any less special to you.

"Spence" You cooed sweetly as your head turned to face him, his eyes were already on you.

"I wanted to get you flowers to give you when you got to the airport, but I couldn't stop because I didn't want to not be there when you got there and the first time we met, but the shops around didn't have any of these" He mumbled out, nerves lingering in his tone.

You huffed out a laugh as your chest tightened in wake of his sweet words. You wondered how on earth this man was real. You wondered if maybe this was all a dream and he was just a figment of your imagination, a creation that could only exist in your head and outside of reality. But there he was, standing in front of you looking so pretty, and sweet, and talking about wanting to get you flowers.

"Spencer" You repeat his name, its becoming a real challenge to not cup his face in your hands and kiss him. "You don't have to" You say softly.

He shakes his head, "I do, because thats the least of what you deserve, I think of you everytime I walk past this place, I think of you everytime I see those flowers -- I- I think about you all the time." He breaths out.

You stomach swams, you wondered if this was the begining of a romance confession, or if you had just watched too many love films. You didn't think love like that existed, and yet you were standing here with Spencer, feeling the exact way you imagined it to.

You were almost at a loss for words, thankfully, like always he was saving you from your mind blank by talking again, almost as if he needed to say it just as much as you needed to hear it.

"I'm not good at.. This.. thing. Feelings and situations, they make me anxious and uncertain and I don't like it, I like labels, and satistics, and science, I like certainity." He mumbled out his hand squeezing gently around yours.

You squeezed his back.

"In saying that, I am going to ask you a question and if it doesn't work out like I am really hoping it does, that is okay. I really really enjoy having you in my life. I have ever since you became apart of it. I hated email and now I don't because everytime I use it, I think of you. I am not a nervous rambler, a rambler, yes, but not because im nervous -- most of the time, until I met you. I really, really like you and I would really like for you to be my girlfriend" He breathed out.

You couldn't break the grin on your face. You didn't think anything could, your heart was beating outside your chest and you were almost scared it was going to break your ribs with the intensity. You had to pause and take a deep breath as you tried to regain your ability to talk.

This was something out of the sweetest romance novel, he was something out of the sweetest romance novel.

"I would really like that too" You huff out a heavy breath through your words, as your hand frees from his to wrap around his neck gently, careful of the coffee that was still in your hand.

He let out a sigh he had been holding in as his eyes smiled at you, his arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you flush against him as his head bent down to sink in place in your neck.

You felt so full. Everything felt so right. Here, with him, in his arms, like this. There wasn't quite a feeling that compared to this moment that you had felt before, there wasn't anything you wanted more than him in, this moment.

The minute his head pulled away from your neck to look at your face, he had that sort of look in his eye, the same one that you had where there was just a different sort of glow, a different happiness behind them.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, it gave you deja vu to the first time the two of you had met, you smiled widely. Nodding your head.

"You're my boyfriend now, you don't have to ask"

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I (26, NB) dropped a long-term friend (23, not disclosing gender, I'll call them X) for being a proshipper, and now they're trying to get in the way of my other friendships.

A little more than a month ago, an old friend from when I was an itty bitty teen on the internet (we met when they were 12 and I was 15 or so) messaged me on twitter asking if we could share discord since they're more active on that platform, and they missed hanging out. Ok, no prob!! I missed talking to X and life was going kinda icky for me at the time. We exchanged discords and started talking more frequently, before we would talk through twitter dms maybe one day every few months, and we went from almost no contact to talking every single day. It was like being a teenager again; we still shared similar interests and we really fast clicked over old and new fandoms we were in. We talked about college and how they're starting to get the hang of their new job but needed support, talked about our family lives, etc., and in general I felt really comfortable and happy to be chatting again with someone I've known for so long. We were inseparable for weeks.

However... of course, as adults, and having known each other for YEARS, we started talking about fandom ships and fics we enjoyed. We didn't have the same taste in pairings, but that was okay. Until it wasn't anymore.

I shared my NSFW twitter with them, and they followed me. A few minutes later X told me, "I see you have "proship DNI in your bio, I just want to let you know that I am a pro-ship and enjoy some things in fandom that you might think is gross. I hope that's okay."

I was kind of weirded out, and told them that as long as they didn't like anything that would be criminal in real life, that's fine. They told me they *did* enjoy things in fiction that they "wouldn't condone in reality" and even though they "don't talk about it publicly" they still wanted me to know. For some reason. ?? Even though they KNOW that I have an irl history of abuse as a kid, they still told me this.

I was so fucking uncomfortable and really, really sad, and honestly I felt betrayed? I stepped away from my account for like, an hour before messaging them back and saying I didn't want to continue talking to them anymore. That I didn't know they were that kind of person and I'm not comfortable being their friend. I didn't read their response to me because I soft-blocked them.

While I was getting over that and trying to move on, a few days later I was talking to another mutual friend of ours when they asked if I was still friends with X. I got chills remembering how I broke off with them, and said no, we weren't talking anymore. That they were the kind of person that made me really uneasy and uncomfortable to be around. The mutual friend, I'll call R, said that X was "feeling kind of down about losing a friend recently" and talked about it in a discord server they share. X didn't mention my name but R wondered if it was me who dropped them since I was really touchy about boundaries online. I freaked out a little thinking about them talking about me, and asked what else they said, and R told me "not much, just that they felt sad but it was your choice in the end because you two were different" and I don't know why but it left a bad taste in my mouth. Were they trying to make people seem like I was the bad guy or something?? Idk.

I told R the reason why I stopped talking to X, and that X is a proshipper who likes things like inc*st and rape, and R wasn't as supportive as I thought he would be, saying that he understood how I felt but if X was being honest and open about their interests, it probably meant they trusted me and didn't want to "lie" to me. I don't understand how that's even relevant if X is a fucking proshipper. I don't want their trust in the first place if that's who they really are, and I felt betrayed that someone I knew for so long was hiding that for me until we were bonding again. R basically dropped it there and said "idk then" and I told him I was going to shut off my notifs for a bit. I really don't want to talk with him again right now especially since he didn't seem THAT bothered by X being a proshipper who's into really criminal shit.

Since then, friends of mine who are also friends with R (because he's a friend of X still, for some reason), haven't been replying to me as much anymore and I'm super sensitive to noticing these things, at first I told myself it was nothing, but there's an obvious decrease in our interactions. I can't help but think that X actually said bad stuff about me, and R didn't want me to know, or maybe X convinced R that I was a terrible person or something. I still haven't read X's reply to me because I genuinely do not want to interact with them ever again, but for the past few days I've been so angry and hurt by my other friend's actions that I can't help but want to blame them, since this all started when I left them.

AITA for dropping a friend because their interests made me SEVERELY uncomfortable? I don't know what to do.

What are these acronyms?

[sandwhitches]

hii! can i have a cherry popsicle abt suna confessing to the reader but he’s super nervous?? thanks so much! feel free to request smth from me if you’d like to do a little exchange:)

a/n: u must be a mind reader because i’ve LITERALLY been working on this exact prompt omg!!! it’s longer than a drabble (lowkey really long so i just formatted it like a fic☠️) because i already had most of it written when u requested so enjoy :3!! also u BET im gonna send u a request yay!!!

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐟𝐭. 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨)

desc: suna is an idiot and seeks the help of an unlikely (and annoying, in his humble opinion) ally to help him confess to you

content: fem. reader, language, suna’s little sister guest star!!!!! (i love that he canonically has a little sister; she’s like middle school age in this ughhhh suna as a big brother makes me want to combust), suna pining for you like a big stupid idiot

wc: 1.5k

this is a part of my summer writing event!!! please feel free to send some requests my way :3

Suna Rintaro knows two things for certain: firstly, he’s absolutely in love with you, and secondly, he hasn’t a clue what to do about it. It was easier for him to come to terms with the latter, seeing as he’d spent most of his teenage years rolling his eyes at mushy displays of affection and taking the piss out of his friends who seemed to have traded all necessary brain function in exchange for falling in love. 

To him, falling in love this early on in life was as worthless and cheap as the chocolate he watched be gifted every Valentines Day; eventually, they’ll eat what they like and throw what they don’t in the trash, he’s seen it done countless times before, and he’d be stupid to let something like that happen to him. 

Still, here he is, knee-deep and sinking even deeper as the moments go by, he thinks falling in love might be like being pushed into quicksand. As odd as it is for him to admit it to himself, he doesn’t mind it at all.

There’s a certain giddiness that can’t be awarded any time other than when you talk to him. He spends the rest of the afternoon and evening thinking about your conversations, wondering if he said something wrong, thinking of all the ways he could have prolonged the exchange, and smiling fondly when he remembers he managed to make you laugh three times (a new record for him).

“What’s with that face?” Atsumu had interrupted Suna during one of the breaks at volleyball practice, his idiotic grin on full display in Rintaro’s face. Had he really been smiling just from thinking about you?

Suna had mumbled something that sounded like an awkward mixture of shut up and fuck off, quick to storm away in hopes that Atsumu didn’t catch the violent reddening of his cheeks. This is not good, he thinks, love can’t really be this hard to ignore, can it?

He’s put up a hard battle against this exact scenario, and he’s afraid you might have unknowingly thrown a wrench right into his fine tuned machine of a brain. If this really was a battle, he’s fine raising a white flag in order to get to make you laugh more often, for the slight possibility of getting to know if your lips really feel as soft as they appear, and the hope that one day he might forget all about what it was like not to be entirely in love with you. 

This is the nail in the coffin, his final surrender. Being in love really must make people stupid, because he’s nervously tugging his collar as he knocks on his younger sister's door. She chirps a surprised “Come in!” and Rintaro struggles to actually reach for the door, consumed with the reality of the fact that this really is where he’s ended up in his life. Great.

His sister gives him an incredulous look when she realizes it had been him who knocked, eyeing him suspiciously, “What do you want?” She mumbles in confusion, setting her pencil down. Suna parts his lips, mouth running dry, then sighs loudly, shaking his head. 

“What is it?” She inquires, sudden agitation laced in her tone. Rintaro looks at the ground, too embarrassed to see the inevitable shift in her expression when he asks, “What’s the right way to ask out a girl?” 

A silence follows that isn’t long enough in Suna’s opinion, quickly cut off by a loud bark of laughter, “No way! You’re asking me for advice?” 

Here’s another thing Suna Rintaro knew for certain, there’s no word that describes the extent in which his younger sister is the bane of his existence. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Suna mutters self-consciously. This probably was a bad idea in theory, but as much as it pains him to admit it, this is his last resort. He knows next to nothing about how to be normal about talking to you, let alone confess; something is better than nothing in this situation, and he swears to himself that he will make sure he never has to ask his sister for advice like this again. 

Love, when it comes to you, has to be a one and done thing. He’s sincerely praying to whoever is watching over him that he never has to feel the terror of confessing to anyone else again. It just has to be you. 

That’s why he’s here, standing about as stiff as a marble statue as he pushes a shaky finger to your doorbell, drawing his hand back swiftly as if it burned him. In a spurt of unexplainable confidence, Suna had asked if you wanted to hang out on Saturday, conveniently leaving out the part where he desperately wished for it to be more than just a hang out.

Earlier that morning, he’d been so close to chickening out that his sister, of all people, angrily dragged him to the nearest grocery store with a scowl.

 “Don’t get her roses, it’s way too soon for that kind of flower!” She snapped, swatting Suna’s hand away from the bouquet.

“Daisies? Seriously? Are you a serious?”

It would be an utter lie if Suna did not admit that he had no idea what his sister was talking about. If love really is this complex, maybe he’s not the right person for it. Still, he finds himself lingering on the face you make when you laugh, the way you’re the first person that he never got sick of texting into the early hours of the morning, and how you’re the only person that could ever make him reconsider that puppy love and crushes might mean something more than he’d given them credit for.

After all, the way he felt for you is what people call love, isn’t it?

Suna grips the assorted bouquet of colorful flowers that his sister had deemed good enough, listening to the sound of your front door clicking open. He’s doomed, this is a bad idea, and yet it’s the only thing he wants to do. 

How’d you get to be so beautiful? Suna wonders that a lot, in fact, it makes him angry that you’d just waltzed into his life like you did. It’s absolutely unfair, he was a dead man before he could even put up a fight. Falling in love with you was unavoidable from the beginning, but he seems to be just okay with that. 

“Oh!” Your eyes go wide, nonplussed by the bouquet in his hands, “Flowers for me?” You snicker, your laughter is probably the worst thing that could possibly happen right now, it makes everything ten times harder to do.

“Yeah, um-” Rintaro sputters, nervously darting his eyes around for the answer to your question. He knew the answer. You knew the answer.

Hastily, he holds it out for you to take, which you do without hesitation, “What’s the occasion?” 

Suna Rintaro knows two more things for certain: firstly, he’ll die if he doesn’t tell you how he feels, and secondly, you’re smart enough to have already surmised exactly what the occasion is. 

Everything his sister told him, advisories of “That’s too creepy!” and “Don’t be so blunt about it!” all fly to the back of his mind in exchange for the only things he can really manage to say. 

“Well,” Suna starts, cringing at the way his voice cracks, he knows this is about to be the world’s worst confession. 

“I, um, I got these for you because I think you’re really pretty,” you watch in bewilderment as his cheeks gradually saturate into a bright red, “but, that’s not just it!” Suna blurts, “You’re also really smart, and funny, and you’re probably the only person I could sit and talk to for hours without getting annoyed by-” Now, Suna is blatantly breaking the third piece of advice his sister had given him, don’t ramble.

“And, I really look forward to talking to you, even if it’s about boring stuff, I still want to hear you talk all day. Which, saying that out loud is really embarrassing for me, but, not because I’m embarrassed of you, I’m just embarrassed that I’m so-”

“Suna-” you interrupt, the cellophane wrap of the bouquet you held crackles as you lower it to see him better. You watch, partially in amusement, while the boy across from you struggles to comprehend everything he just said. 

Suna is done for when it comes to you, this was priorly understood, so why is it so hard to put it into words if it’s all he ever thinks about? “I like you a lot…is that okay?” He finally sighs, pale green eyes flickering up to search for a silent answer in the faltering of your expression. 

“That’s okay.” You nod, dumbfounded by the sudden declaration, each word was spoken with more confidence than anything you’ve ever heard him say before.

“Cool.” Suna nods dumbly.

“Cool.”

[thelov3lybookworm]

Replaced

Summary: Rhysand thinks Azriel has become oldand deserves rest. And while Azriel loves his friend a lot, who the hell does he think he is telling Azriel what to do? The apprentice Rhysand has ordered Azriel to train isn't lessening his frustration either.

•○●⛦●○•

Word count: 1697

Warnings: azzie being a thirsty teenager, reader being sassy, azzie deciding he wants to be a flirty lil hoe lol

A/n: JDVNJDMSNCSDMCN OMGGG I LOVE YALL SOO MUCH I CANT TELL YOU HOW HAPPY I AM RN 😭😭😭 as a thank you gift for you all being so nice and supportive of me for over a year now, i present to youuuu my first fir for the celebration week hehe hope you all enjoyyy 🤭

p.s: I WOULD LIKE TO SAY THIS HERE AS WELL EVEN THO I THINK IVE SAID THIS BEFORE IN PRIVATE TO MY WIFEY POO. @berryzxx THANK YOU MY LOVE MY LIFE FOR LISTENING TO ME RANT ABOUT ALL THE FICS I EVER WRITE BUT ALSO ESPECIALLY THE CELEBRATION FICS AND HELPING ME COME UP WITH IDEAS🥹

p.p.s: based on an indian song i used to listen t nonstop which me and berry concluded i should not have been listening to lmaooo like what even was that 😭

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"Any questions?"

Y/n shook her head, eyes fixed on the neat scribbles on the pristine white paper in her hands, going through the schedule handed to her for the tenth time.

"Perfect then," the high lord muttered, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the mahogany wood of the table in his office. "Be on time for your training, starting tomorrow. You know, my spymaster is a rule follower and hates tardiness."

Y/n dipped her head, finally meeting the glittering violet of her new employer, essentially.

She stood, knowing she was dismissed, and fell into a deep bow. "Thank you for this opportunity again, my lord. I might not be a shadowsinger, but I will prove to be an amazing spy."

"Looking forward to working with you, Y/n. Hope you will live up to your reputation."

As Y/n now stood in the training ring, sweat rolling down her body in rivulets, she wished she had asked Rhysand more questions about his spymaster. For starters, she should have asked if the male was a grown adult or a terrifying toddler.

Because by the way the high lord had sung praises in the illyrian’s name, talking about how patient, composed and kind he was, Y/n would have assumed he would be a pleasure to work with.

The overgrown manchild she had been training with was anything but.

As she stared into his hazel eyes, trying not to snap his pretty neck, Y/n wondered if he had serious personality disorder or he was going through some sort of mood swing. Because the male glaring down at her panting form was not the sweet, caring and soft spoken male Y/n had envisioned.

"You still have three laps left, and then hand to hand combat. Or are you as forgetful as you are untrained?"

Y/n straightened her back, her mouth shut tight as she released a frustrated breath through her nose. "I know how many laps are left, thank you very much. I am not old enough to forget things, especially not old enough to be replaced by someone better and younger."

His eyes flashed, his shadows thickening. The side of Y/n’s lips kicked up in satisfaction. Her remarks had found their mark. Without waiting for whatever words he was going to throw at her next, Y/n turned away, sprinting her way through the barely visible dirt path around the training ring.

He looked murderous the next time her eyes met his, but at least he wasn't yelling at her to speed up or your posture is shit.

Even though he put her through hell for the rest of the afternoon, it all passed in a blur, because the moment he turned away from her, his hands flicking in a dismissive gesture, she stalked over to the water station and gulped down two glasses of water.

In that moment, only she existed, the glass attached to her mouth and her parched throat weeping with joy.

Mother, thank you for giving us mere peasants water.

When she was done, she moved to retrieve her jacket discarded near the exit, only to find Azriel still present, now conversing in furious whispers with the Warlord.

Y/n had no interest in engaging with them, and by the way the general glanced at her, worry written all over his face, she knew he would try to corner her.

Swiftly, she picked up her jacket, slung it over her shoulders and began retreating towards where the two illyrians stood, hoping to sneak out of the space they weren’t blocking off when she heard their low voices.

"Still, you’re being too harsh Azriel-"

"If she wanted to be a spy for Rhys, she has to go through this training-"

"She’s already trained to be a spy, Az. quit being an asshole."

"If this is too hard for her and if she is going to go cry about it, then she doesn’t deserve this position."

Y/n stopped and turned to look at the bastard, who had the audacity to stare back with his eyebrows raised.

"Yes?" He grumbled, impatience rolling off him in waves, as if he couldn’t wait to be out of her presence.

She let her eyes wander as she studied the illyrian with the red siphons, then back to Azriel. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Rhys has already discussed the time with you, has he not?"

"Aww, no need to get snappy, princess. I’m just making sure you are not backing out." she pouted, fluttering her lashes before turning away, grinning in triumph at the way his face turned red in anger.

Oh, was she going to have pleasant dreams tonight.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Azriel’s pov.

It had been a week since the fae female started training under Az, and he was beginning to lose hope.

He had put her through as much turmoil as he could, both mentally and physically. Still, she seemed determined to work for Rhys.

Maybe she only cared to prove Az wrong and stay, maybe she just wanted to annoy the fuck out of him.

Whatever the reason, she was resilient.

He put her through hours upon hours of gruelling work in the afternoon heat, yelled at her every chance he got, tried to get under her skin when he knew she would be most tired and likely to snap, put her through every torturous and unnecessary task under the sun. But still, she did not snap once.

Not once did Azriel think she was going to leave, not once did she threaten to leave, not once did she go to Rhys to ask him whether her training was supposed to be this gruelling when she was already trained from Prythian’s best spy training institution.

He was not going to pretend it did not make him respect her. Day by day, his curiosity increased, he wanted to know why she was still training under him, even though he did everything he could to bully her away.

And he was not going to pretend like it did not make him want to get to know her, maybe get closer, because he could not remember the last time a female had piqued his interest to this level.

He could feel it.

Feel himself falling, but of course, like the thick skulled bastard he was, he refused to accept the fact that his respect for her resilience was more than just that.

Sure, she made him wish for a taste, but he was not going to admit that.

He could already hear her soft pants as he got closer to the training area, his lips lifting on the corners unconsciously.

She was standing opposite one of the training dummies, honed in on the battered thing. It seemed like everything else had ceased to exist, like she couldn’t care less about anything going around her as she swung her sword at the dummy, again and again.

Her focus, the determination with which she trained even though her trainer wasn’t present…

It was hot.

She was hot.

She would probably have a sassy remark on her tongue if she knew the thoughts in his head, but she looked like she did not even realise he had arrived-

"Stop looking at my ass. And You’re late."

He glanced up, his eyes travelling slowly over her form as she turned to face him, her hands wrapped around the sword he had made her practice with yesterday. Her chest heaved, her shoulders moving along, the few strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail, that smug smile on her lips…

And her eyes. They shone with delight at having caught him being tardy.

Deep down, it warmed him, but on the surface, his lips shifted into a sneer.

"I think this is enough training-"

She let out a laugh. "What?"

He stared at her, unamused.

"Sorry, it’s just… Do you have a fever?"

He sighed as she stepped forward, slapping away the hand she reached out to touch his forehead.

"If you want to continue, I have no problems. Get started, twenty laps."

She smirked. "That’s more like it."

He stared at her, bewildered as she cackled, then stepped closer.

"I think it’s slipping, spymaster."

He blinked. "What’s slipping?"

She rolled to her tiptoes, her mouth dangerously close to his ear. It made shivers run down his spine as his eyes focused on the training dummy on the far end of the ring covered in long slashes, the filling spilling out in a few spaces.

"Your facade." She whispered, her hand coming to rest on the back of his neck.

He stiffened. "I don’t know what you mean-"

"Oh cut the crap spymaster, I see right through you."

Az turned his head to meet her gaze. "And what do you see?"

"I can see you, starting to like what you see."

It was like a cold breeze passed through the room, turning his body cold before his heat regulating system turned on again, making him feel hot all over.

"And what do I see?"

Azriel knew his game was over, knowing she knew he was beginning to like her, but he was not going to give in to her easily.

"Me. You see me, Azriel, and you like it." She stepped back, letting her hair loose as she manoeuvred around him. "Pity, you are not getting any of this. Not now, not anytime soon."

He turned on his spot, watching as she stalked away, and he knew damn well she was swaying her hips more than she usually does just to add salt to the wound.

Being a spymaster, he took note of the minute details, of course.

Before she vanished down the stairs, though, she turned to look at him. Her eyes roved leisurely over his figure, and when her eyes met his, she smirked, puckered her lips, blew him a kiss, and then sauntered off.

A challenge.

Azriel wasn’t known to be the most competitive person in the inner circle for no reason.

She had just challenged him, and Azriel would be damned if he lost.

He was going to win this one, and oh was he going to win spectacularly.

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