#a lot of this is speculation. you know the inside of my head is a dark twisted place

[mullermilkshake]

My own little spin on something I hold very close to my heart, I hope this is a lil something you're looking for!! <3 @your-boba-tea

Phantom theOpera!SatoruGojo x Fem!reader

Feat. Suguru Geto, Masamichi Yaga, mentions Ino, Maki, Miwa.

Tags -> Yandere!, mentions and implies hanging, stalking, violence, obsession, dark, mentions of death, manipulation, physical harm

“Alright people, that's a wrap for now, go take a break!”

You slouched and groaned, the heat of the stage lights practically melting your makeup from your cheeks all the while still hung in Suguru’s arms as your cue dictated.

“This corset is really starting to kill my hips, I don’t know if I can keep this going until the end tonight.” You pulled away from him and waved the director off, adjusting yourself and slipping off the little shoes so that your feet were now bare.

“You’ll do fine,’ Suguru said, sliding off his own jacket and folding it neatly over his arm. “You were made for this part and after you do this show tonight, you’ll breeze past the others.”

It wasn’t the first time you had taken to the stage alongside Suguru Geto and it sure wasn’t the last either. Being veteran’s on stage sure helped create chemistry like no other, in fact you had not met someone like Suguru who made everything so effortless. So exhilarating.

You started your walk off stage, raising your arms and stretching your back out as much as the corset would allow. “Yeah… I just wish Miwa would sew in more flexible fabric, I feel so stiff.”

"Given the time period, it’s incredibly accurate.”

A scoff fell past your lips, “I don’t know how people sang opera in these, I can barely breathe.”

“Yet you have the voice of an angel.”

“You flatter me too much, Suguru. Some people might think you have a thing for me.” You paused and eyed him closely and he stopped just as you did just shy of the gathered stage curtain.

As though on cue, Suguru and yourself cringed at the mere thought of a relationship. Suguru shook his head, “Don’t give me nightmares, I won’t sleep otherwise.”

The absurdity of it made you chuckle. “Come on, you love me really, right?”

Being as close as you were, the pair of you were often met with speculation and assumptions to what your relationship really was. The two of you often shared a dressing room for the hell of it which usually led others to think the worst in your eyes, though you didn’t care.

Suguru had seen you naked more times than you cared to think. Kissing on stage came as naturally as taking a breath. But he just wasn’t your type. And you weren’t his.

He shook his head and playfully shoved you with his shoulder as he led you down to the dressing room. “I wouldn’t go that far, you whine a lot and it makes my head hurt.”

“Pfft! We all know you’re the biggest diva here and you should have taken the role of Carlotta. Such a primadonna.”

Suguru had a complaint about anything and everything, often stalling his cue because his hair just wasn’t right. Poor Maki’s body language brought her close to blowing a fuse huffing in front of him to put that strand of hair back in place.

“I was sure Maki was going to throw that blow dryer at your head the way she was cursing to herself.” Shaking your head disapprovingly, you wandered towards the little set of stairs to the dressing rooms.

“Thirty minutes you two, don’t be late and miss your cue this time.”

“Yes Masamichi.” Why the man was even saying your name was a mystery, you were on stage perfectly on time during every rehearsal.

Suguru matched your pace and leant over so his mouth was as close to your ear as he could. “He said your name because you’re insufferable.”

“How am I?” One step at a time, you stomped down them with a huff. “At least I’m on time.”

“You left to get take out and ended up twenty minutes late-”

“That was one time, Suguru. I thought we’d dropped that already?” You stretched again and opened the door to your dressing room, he followed you inside.

A chill ran down your spine and spurred on goosebumps down your bare arms. “Man, this dressing room always gives me the creeps, I always feel like I’m being watched. I really ought to ask Masamichi for a new one.”

“Like he’d actually allow it this close to the opening of the show. You’ll be fine, just don’t think about it.”

You sat down and faced away from the weird looking doorway which had long been wallpapered over, but the paper lining always seemed to deteriorate quickly no matter how much paper covered it. By now, there were countless theatre posters and programmes from previous endeavours stuck along the door line to hide it.

“That’s easier said than done. It’s like I'm being leered at all the time by some weirdo.” You stared back at the sealed door and tried to cast it from the back of your mind.

“Maybe it’s the ghost-”

“Don’t joke about that stuff, Suguru!”

“What?” He dodged your poorly thrown pillow and did his worst to hide his laughter. “There is a ghost here… some might even say a phantom-”

“I said stop it! You aren’t funny. There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

Suguru shrugged, flopping down on the little seat next to you in the corner and pointed his thumb over his shoulder to the dressing room door. “Do you remember the time that Masamichi called in sick and Gakuganji took over in his place for that week?”

You nodded with reluctance and Suguru continued his story. “He told me that there was a shadow of a man as tall as me running about the place up in the rafters with a scar running from his forehead, down to his chin. A phantom… And he just so happens to attach himself to one person in particular, wanting to give them tips and advice on how to improve their skill." He wiggled his fingers to enhance the creepiness. "I mean, who keeps giving you roses after each performance?”

“That’s you giving me roses every time, don’t act smart, asshole. And, now you’re just reeling off the plot for the performance tonight. You aren’t fooling me, Suguru Geto. I’m having a hard enough job trying to nail these notes, opera isn’t my strongest suit and I don’t need you putting childish stories into my head, you’re such a dick.” 

“And…” He paused dramatically. “I heard this ghost was even responsible for that death last year, you remember what happened to Ino?”

You shook your head and frowned at him. “That was an accident and you know it. The ropes got all tangled, it can happen.”

“Can it? Did you ever stop and really think about it?”

“Stop, you’re creeping me out.”

Suguru sat closer and wrapped his arm around you for comfort, pulling you in and resting his head on yours. “I’m sorry, I’m only kidding. But who knows, maybe the ghost will show up in the performance tonight? Will you really be kissing Nanami as the Phantom? Or will it be the ghost- boo!”

You flinched at Suguru’s fingers moving to poke you through the uncomfortable corset. “Suguru you fucker!”

This time, the pillow did not miss.

He laughed again and climbed up from the chair to avoid the barrage of pillow swings.  “I’m kidding- I’m kidding!”

“You better be!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, you scaredy cat.”

“I’m not dramatic, don’t be a shit stirrer!” Folding your arms angrily you got to your feet too.

His cheeky grin made your anger fester and he must have noted that because his expression fell just a little. “Wait here and I’ll get us a drink, you want some chocolate?”

“Of course. I do.” You poked your tongue out at him and watched him turn to leave.

“Anything for the lead star.”

“Ugh!” It was a little growl that left your throat once you were left on your own in silence. “He’s the insufferable one!”

Suguru Geto always pulled stunts like this. A main reason why he would never ever be your type of man to sweep you off your feet and cast in his arms towards the sunset. You wanted a man who cared for you and stopped others from putting you down whilst you lived your dream on stage.

The one thing you always wanted since you were a child.

And now you were doing just that.

Clearing your throat, you practiced some warm up and trilled your lips to loosen them and shivered. Turning to face the rest of the room, you froze on the spot and not because of the drop in temperature, but because the sealed door adorned with paper was now open.

It happened so…

You had no words. It just opened and you were none the wiser. 

“Suguru?” You called to no one, the whistled draft filtering out of the long tunnel as though calling you to enter it.

“Suguru, this isn’t funny.”

Still, there was nothing.

You took one step at a time, creeping towards the threshold to hold onto the flapping papers taped to the door. “If this is a joke, it’s not a funny one.”

No one responded.

I didn’t even know there was a tunnel behind this door.

Leaning past the threshold, your feet remained stuck where they were in the safe confines of the dressing room. The closer you got, the more the whistling air sounded like words.

You gasped and tripped, falling back right onto the floor. The wind had spoken your name. “Who’s there?”

The ghost- you shook your head as hard as you could to push the words Suguru tempted you with from your head. Stories like that could not come true, just pure fiction and it startled you over a bit of wind.

Suguru would not let you live this down.

There came that sensation of being leered at, right down the end of that tunnel. It set every single alarm bell off in your gut, yet it did nothing to stop you from getting up and taking another look.

“Show yourself!”

Movement from the end of the tunnel took your breath away but it did not cast you away. You remained where you were and waited for another bump of movement. All that came was your name again.

Had time slowed down? You finally stepped over the threshold and planted your barefoot on the scratchy cement, little rocks and dust collecting on the soles of your feet yet you didn’t care.

Even blinking took effort, though walking towards the sound became effortless as if it was coaxing you towards it, begging you to just take one more step.

Just one more step.

And another.

One more.

A second had passed you thought, yet you were at the end of the hallway looking back towards the dressing room, noting how the door seemed to close on its own. You did not pay too much attention until you were off again.

“I should… go back.”

Should you? Was it a good idea, or a bad one? You weren’t even sure where you were anymore, but you did not care.

Suguru will be looking for me… when was my cue again?

Blinking became difficult, breathing laboured enough to make you light headed and unable to realise at first that you had finally stopped walking. You were left stranded in silence with only the breathing of the room as though it were a rickety old rib cage expanding and retracting and struggling to keep its shape.

“I should…”

You noticed the music immediately and it sort of brought you out of your thoughts for a brief period of time. Music you had never heard before. Beautiful music. Stunningly played and well written wit a dark drawl in its notes with a hint of sadness like an aftertaste.

Stepping into the room and down the three little steps, a corner of the room came into focus that hadn’t been there initially. Someone was playing on a grand piano that could have been taken from the orchestra pit upstairs, in fact the person playing such beautiful music could have been someone from the orchestra pit.

No. That was an insult to the player, for they were far beyond the orchestra’s limits. Whoever it was, played the notes in such a way that it made your eyes weep and dampen your cheeks.

“You..” What could you say to this mysterious stranger?

“So you finally made it then?” He said, his arms moving so delicately along the keys they almost never touched.

“Uh… I don’t-”

“Come over here.” He did not turn to you, he just kept playing.

And like that, your feet were taking you over there straight to the mystery man who bore no aggression to you for infiltrating his… home? He never showed care it seemed, not until you stopped right beside him and observed him play.

The music stopped abruptly, his breathing lulled you into a sense of security when he stood where the height difference mattered. “Welcome home.”

Home? You were not home… Wait, where were you?

This stranger smiled at you like you were familiar. Like how Suguru would treat you. This man was nothing like Suguru, white hair fairer than snow, perfectly brushed back and flat as though he was ready to take the stage on Masamichi’s cue.

You might have even called him handsome had you gotten a good look at him in the low lit room of flickering candles. Half of his face had been hidden by a face covering. 

Just like the Phantom of the Opera…

“Who.. who are you?” You hadn’t pulled yourself from this trance you were in, but you were trying.

Was this who had been giving you the creeps from that dressing room this whole time?

“You don’t remember?” A flicker of annoyance moved past his face. His eye twitched a little whilst he studied your face.

“I don’t.” Shaking your head made the room spin. “I...I can’t remember you. I’m sorry.”

Now that the music had ended, you were certain that it was making you drowsy, so you intended to go back to your dressing room. He caught you as you turned to leave back the way you came, digging his nails into your arm and that seemed to wake you up.

“Ouch! Please don’t do that, I want to go.”

“I do so much for you and you repay me by doing this?” He almost growled, it stuck in his throat to threaten you.

“I really don’t know who you are, please let me go.” Tugging away from him only moved you. He stayed as he stood and glared at you like you had done something so unforgivable.

“Y’know, I waited. I bided my time until that weak little man left your dressing room for once to finally speak to you and you do this? You rub him in my face across the whole theatre like you know what you’re doing. Seeing that man kiss you makes my stomach churn and twist like it’s on fire- how could you do this?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about, I’m just a performer, it’s my job!”

“You’re so much more than that and you don’t even see it. I’m stuck down here, you’re a world apart and you are squandering it.” His tone was so calm, his grip never loosened. “He is stopping you from reaching your full potential.”

He, as in Suguru? You were fully aware of your situation and the room had twisted and morphed into something dilapidated and dusty. Forgotten. The pristine and perfect vision of music was shattered like glass.

“Please… Please let me go.” 

“You really don’t know who I am, do you?”

Reluctantly you shook your head and awaited his next emotional change, yet it never came. “This won’t do. You have a show tonight and I never miss your performances. I can’t keep you here, but if I let you go I’ll be forced to apprehend you if you try and leave.”

His expression was conflicted, his fingers around your arm never eased off and matched his wooden glare across the makeshift room. “You’ll do your part and I’ll come and get you after, no one will interfere, not if they don’t want another accident like last year.”

You couldn’t breathe, the air had gone from the room. ‘I heard this ghost was even responsible for that death last year, you remember what happened to Ino?’

“You can’t be the- Look, I don’t want any trouble, I just want to go back and play my role so I can go home!”

“And who do you think got you that starring role?” He yanked you back, closing the gap so that half of his exposed face was almost flush with your own. “I put your file on top of the pile when no one was looking. I got you that dressing room so we could be close to each other and I put those roses in your dressing room after every performance and you never noticed… I only want you to do your best.”

If the horrid pause in the room weighed any more, it would have crushed you. “I love you. I always have.”

Love? You didn’t even know the man.

“I’ll teach you, guide you and protect you so that you can be the best. But you have to trust me.”

That was the thing. You didn’t trust this man as far as you could throw him and he’d just admitted to stalking you and murdering someone.

It was paramount that you approached this with caution. “Okay… I’ll go now so I can get better for the show tonight.”

Fuck the show. I’m leaving and never coming back.

“You liar.” He said, his voice so low it was practically non-existent.

“What? No, no I promise!”

“Shit!" His breathing became ragged, his eye wider than before. "I have no choice... then you aren’t leaving until I can trust you.” He tugged your arm and pulled you towards the door you came through, kicking it shut and locking it tight right before your eyes. “You’ll just leave me like the others did, but I won’t be broken again.”

Others?

“I won’t, I’ll come straight back- please I promise I won’t do anything bad!” You struggled and pushed against him, never really noticing where your hands were moving.

You pulled the covering from his face and gasped at the long forehead to chin scar down his face, just like Suguru had said.

The Phantom was real?

The Phantom was real.

The Phantom was real and stood right in front of you, threatening your freedom with one tight grasp and an expression of hurt and betrayal laced in his eyes. Would you ever get past that locked door?

You missed your cue, again.

Cross posted on my AO3

Okay but HEAR ME OUT YALL

Gojo as phantom of the opera??? I’m screaming.

I WILL PAY FOR SOMEONE TO WRITE OR DRAW THIS IM BEGGING ON MY KNEES

[deargravity]

thought a bit too long about hajun's bilingualism and it turned into its own beast in my head, especially because i overfocused on the pride cd track where, at the height of his emotions, he breaks out a word in korean to express himself. both when he's angry / upset after the confrontation with ryuu and when he's grateful / freshly vulnerable later after that conversation with allen and anne. i know it's a trait of his character to be repressed and insincere in expressing himself but i also wanted to spend time on how language might play a role into his self-presentation, and possibly it is reflective of how carefully he has to maintain and build his image. the language he learned inside-out, the language he was born into (korean) and the language he learned outside-in, the language he speaks to blend into the host culture (japanese), and i think that's the bare-bone fundamental immigrant experience that it might also tie into his sense of isolation and how carefully he curates himself to be accepted and admired, without really knowing how deeply he is loved by the people in his life.

when you learn a new language, if you're busy attending to the rules of syntax and grammar and morphology finding the right way to word things, how much room do you really have for putting in your own voice into that framework, how do you really express yourself in the early stages such that you are truly understood the way you want to be, even in regular conversations when you can communicate with someone in their language, so much meaning is lost between what is said and what is heard. especially when language is the conduit for understanding culture as well.

language has been shown to influence our sense of time and direction and even the range of colours that we see so it's not too far-fetched to mirror this learning experience with how hajun had to grow up in japan away from his family, and his language, and acclimatise to an unfamiliar setting. what i'm trying to say is that after having to internalise the idea that he is unloved by his family, the struggle of fitting into a new society might have exarcebated his loneliness as well, especially since he couldn't regularly speak the language he grew up with. how closely was his childhood tied to the language, how often did his feelings get lost in translation growing up, and is this also part of the reason no one has truly been able to understand him, the reason he doesn't bother with honesty after a childhood of growing up alone, thinking himself unloved and not worth understanding, and of course does that affect his relationship with vulnerability into his adulthood? how do you even begin to conceptualise this kind of experience as a kid? everything he learned turned into habit that became less about being instinctive and truthful and more about putting it together correctly, not just in a new language, but also in a new self, for a new place. if you get what i mean by the parallel.

on language: what language do you think with? how do you access and translate memories into another language? what do you lose of yourself in the process of translation? at what point, do you give up on translating and build yourself something new? at this point, aren't you lying to yourself too? of course, you'd also lie to everyone else.

i don't know if i've read too much into something and turned it into a headcanon, but it's just something i noticed in the pride cd track, when his mask cracks under the pressure and not just through language. that aside, i just thought it might be a good place to start understanding part of the reason why he's so emotionally shuttered and distant all the time. maybe it's language, maybe it's habit, maybe it's because he also has a very selective and flawed understanding of himself, and very likely it is also self-loathing but that's a conversation for another day, thank you for reading.

[goldfades]

★ YOU AND ME, WE'D BE A BIG CONVERSATION─── PB⁵ (part 1/3)

❪ requested -> "paige x famous!reader (singer, actress, up to u) inspired by endgame by ts where p reveals that r is her celeb crush in an interview and a few days later theres a vid of r responding to it saying shes been obsessed w paige lately / its such a big deal bc r has been involved in a lot of romantic drama lately so everyone is kinda iffy abt her rn, causing her to put up a tough guard. but p sees thru the facade when they start talking and allows her to be herself, making r fall even harder 🥹 " ❫ for my disco nonnie!

─ warnings | gossip, a lot of drama and random ass names (sorry i get confused when i don't name them), mention of panic attacks, hurt to comfort, pretty sure nothing else?

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

"Y/N L/N, ONE OF the biggest names right now in the music industry has found herself at the center of yet another romantic scandal involving her ex and now, reportedly a new lover."

The 22-year-old pop sensation, who recently topped the charts with her latest single, was spotted last night leaving an upscale Los Angeles restaurant with actress and heartthrob, Camilla Harrison. The two were seen getting into the same car, sparking rumors of a budding romance.

This sighting comes just weeks after Y/N's highly publicized breakup with fellow musician Lauren Marie, with whom she had a tumultuous on-again, off-again relationship for over two years. The split was reportedly mutual, with both parties citing busy schedules and the pressures of their careers as contributing factors. However, sources close to the couple suggest that Marie was unhappy about Y/N's close friendship with Harrison, which began on the set of her recent music video where Marie made a cameo appearance.

"Y/N and Cam have undeniable chemistry," says an insider. "They've been spending a lot of time together, and it's more than just a professional connection. They're trying to keep things low-key, but it's clear there's something more than friendship between them."

Despite the drama, Y/N continues to thrive professionally. Her upcoming album set to release in the next couple month, is already generating significant buzz. Critics are calling it her most mature work yet, with deeply personal lyrics that reflect her recent experiences.

Meanwhile, Harrison, 26, known for her roles in blockbuster films and her good looks, has remained tight-lipped about the rumors. Her publicist declined to comment, stating that Marie is concentrating on her upcoming film projects.

──

"Okay, next question," the reporter smiled as she scrolled through her phone as Paige gave a tight-lipped smile toward the camera. "Oh! Found a good one, okay. Who is your celebrity crush right now."

"That's easy!" Paige laughed as she glanced toward the reporter. "Y/N L/N, she's beautiful and insanely talented,"

The room filled with laughter as the reporter raised an eyebrow, clearly delighted by the response. "Y/N L/N, huh? That's a popular choice these days, a lot of people are big fans. Have you met her?"

Paige shook her head, her cheeks slightly flushing. "Nah, I wish. But I'm a huge fan of her music. Every song is a masterpiece and I'm not usually into pop,"

"Interesting," the reporter leaned forward, intrigued. "You know, there are rumors about Y/N's love life all the time. How do you feel about all the speculation surrounding her personal life?"

Paige shrugged, maintaining her relaxed demeanor despite the stupid question. "I think it's tough being in the spotlight like that. People forget that celebrities are human too. Everyone deserves a bit of privacy, I'm more interested in her work and what she brings to the music industry rather than whoever she's dating."

The reporter nodded, appreciating Paige's perspective. "Absolutely. It's refreshing to hear someone focus on the artistry rather than the gossip!"

──

"Okay, quick. Who's your celeb crush right now, other than Cam," Bowen Yang, grinned at you, raising an eyebrow as the audience laughed, eagerly awaiting your response.

You laugh (and decide to ignore the comment about Cam), feeling a slight blush creep up your cheeks. "Oh, come on, Bowen, you can't put me on the spot like that!"

Bowen leaned in, his grin widening. "Come on, Y/N, the people want to know!" He pointed to the crowd as they cheered, causing you to put your face in yours hands.

You then take a deep breath, pretending to think hard. "Fine, if I have to choose... I'd say Paige Bueckers. She's incredible on the court, and I've seen some interviews with her ─ she seems like such a cool person."

The audience erupts with loud cheers, causing both you and Bowen to laugh. Bowen's eyes widen, clearly delighted by your answer as he clapped. "Ooh, scandalous! Paige Bueckers, I love that! Have you met her?"

You shake your head, smiling. "No, not yet. But I did see a clip of her saying some really nice things about me recently. It was super sweet."

Bowen's face lights up with excitement. "She was practically gushing over you, this is perfect, we need to make this happen. Maybe you could collab, I don't know how but uh, if anyone could make it happen, it's you."

"Thank you, I think?" You laugh, nodding. "Totally, we'll see what happens."

Bowen turns to the camera, his enthusiasm infectious. "You heard it here first, folks! Y/N and Paige Bueckers, the crossover we never knew we needed but now desperately want!"

The audience erupts in applause and cheers, and you can't help but smile at the idea. Bowen turns back to you, his tone shifting slightly more serious. "Alright, before we wrap up, I have to ask ─ how do you deal with all the attention and rumors about your personal life? It seems like you're constantly in the spotlight."

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, caught off guard by the serious question. "It's um, definitely challenging at times, but I try to focus on the positive aspects. I love making music and my fans. As for the rumors, I just remind myself that I can't control what people say or think. I stay true to myself and the people who really know me, and that's what matters most."

Bowen nods appreciatively. "Wise words, Y/N. And that's why we love you so. Thank you so much for being here tonight."

"Thank you for having me," you reply, genuinely touched by the support.

"And that's Y/N L/N!"

The crowd erupts in cheers as you genuinely smile, happy for the support, waving toward the audience.

──

"Hey everyone, welcome back to the podcast I'm Lila, and today we've got a lot to talk about. Y/N L/N is at the center of yet another romantic scandal, and there's even a new twist involving basketball star Paige Bueckers. Let's dive in!" Lila said, her enthusiasm palpable.

"Yaya, so excited," Maya chimed in, adjusting her headphones. "So, Y/N was spotted last night leaving an upscale LA restaurant with actress Cam Harrison. They got into the same car, which has everyone buzzing about a possible new romance."

"Yeah, and this is just weeks after her very public breakup with Lauren, I think that's her name? It's been a whirlwind, to say the least. But honestly, I think Y/N is handling it all pretty well. She's focused on her music, and she's just living her life. What's your take, My?" Lila asked, leaning in slightly.

Maya sighed, her skepticism evident. "I don't know, Lila. I get that she's young and living her life or whatever, but it feels like there's always some new drama with her. First Lauren, now Cam Harrison? It's starting to look like a pattern."

"But that's thing, with being in your early twenties. Figuring out what you want, who you want to be with? I mean, she's also incredibly talented and driven. Her new album is generating a ton of buzz and it hasn't even been released yet," Lila countered, her voice full of admiration.

"Sure, but it seems like she's always entangled in some romantic drama. Maybe it's just the nature of fame or whatever, but it can also come off as messy. And now, with Paige Bueckers gushing about her in that interview, it adds another layer. I just hope she’s not stringing people along," Maya replied, her tone annoyed.

Lila nodded, annoyed at Maya's words but maintaining her supportive stance. "I get where you're coming from, but did you see Paige's reaction? She was genuinely excited about Y/N. It was sweet. Plus, Y/N responded so positively on the SNL interview. I think it shows she's got a good heart and she's just navigating her way through a complicated life!"

Maya hesitated for a moment as she glanced at the camera, then continued. "I mean, look at Taylor Swift. She's known for her string of high-profile relationships and breakups, and it hasn't always been received positively. It feels like Y/N is heading down a similar path- What?"

"Come on, Maya!" Lila glared at her, clearly displeased. "Comparing Y/N to Taylor Swift isn't fair. Taylor's faced a lot of unfair criticism for just living her life and expressing herself through her music. Y/N is her own person, with her own journey. She's navigating her twenties in the spotlight, and that's not easy."

Maya just shrugged as she glanced toward the camera, before adjusting her mic. "Well that got awkward, moving on..."

──── COMMENTS

sela 🐾 | is she wrong though... love her music but why'd paige gotta get involved too? ♡ 108

↳ l/nslover | cause they like each other???

↳ 🦕 | has bro ever heard of a pr relationship 😭

↳ ari! | THEYRE NOT EVEN TOGETHER YET BROOO😭😭😭

sarah™️ | LILA GET THE HELL OUTTA THERE BROOOO 😭😭 i never liked maya tbh this is just a weird ass take ♡ 1.7k

kayla 🎀 | listen as a y/n girly i also understand maya's point of view cause.... shes kinda for the streets ♡ 879

↳ ™️ | dont call yourself a """"" y/n girly """""" if ur gonna say she's for the streets??? the fuck??

⭐️ | i was understanding maya's pov up until she started saying all that taylor swift bullshit, they're two separate artists LET US LIVEEEEEEE ♡ 2k

josie may | hardest watch of the day 🥲 maya u let us down with that dumb ass take

──

"I just kinda... wanna disappear for awhile," you confessed, your voice quiet as you pressed the phone to your ear. "Don't know why this keeps happening, you're the only that can... help me through it. Sorry if I woke you up-"

It happened again ─ over the last couple of months (ever since you'd broken up with Lauren) you'd gotten pretty severe panic attacks. You were told by everyone on your team to just stay off social media and what had you done... exactly the opposite of that.

"No, no, I was awake anyway, promise," Paige's voice echoed through the phone. You heard shuffling through the phone as you sniffled, sighing. "And I don't mind, like at all. I meant what I said, I'm always here for you,"

Your heart swelled as you managed a smile, as tears began to build in your eyes. You and Paige had only been talking a month and she already understood you more than anyone had in what felt like forever. Her steady presence was like an anchor in the storm of your life.

The constant media scrutiny and the aftermath of your breakup with Lauren had left you feeling alone, but Paige’s calming influence was slowly becoming your safe haven.

"I just... I don't know how to deal with all of it. The rumors, the pressure, it's all so overwhelming," you admitted, wiping away the tears that had started to fall. "Half of it, it isn't even true."

"Hey, it's okay, I know, I believe you," Paige's voice was soothing, almost like a warm embrace over the phone. Even the smallest affirmation from Paige made you feel all okay again, even if it was just for the moment.

"You're not alone in this. We can figure it out together, step by step."

That part made your lips twitch up in a smile, feeling yourself relax again. You took a deep breath, feeling a bit of the tension ease from your shoulders. "I just feel like I can't breathe sometimes. Like the walls are closing in, y'know?"

"I get it," Paige replied softly. She'd know about it all too well, she'd been through it herself plenty of times. "Sometimes it helps to focus on the small things. One step at a time, remember? Have you tried any of those breathing exercises I taught you?"

You nodded, even though she couldn't see you. "Yeah, a little. They help, but it’s hard to remember in the moment."

"Next time you feel a panic attack coming on, call me. Anytime, okay? We'll get through it together," Paige's voice was firm, reassuring. "You don't deserve the shit they give you, like at all."

"Thank you," you whispered, feeling a surge of gratitude. "I don't know what I'd do without you, P."

"You don't have to thank me. I care about you, and I wanna help. Plus, I like hearing your voice," Paige added with a light chuckle, trying to lift your spirits.

You couldn't help but smile at that. "Me too, especially your cute tired voice."

"Cute, really?" Paige laughed through the phone and you swore you felt like your whole world felt even again. "But uh, if you do really wanna disappear you can always come to Connecticut."

The thought of escaping the relentless spotlight, even for a little while, sounded like a dream. "Really?"

"Yeah, you can stay with me for a bit, if that's uh... what you want." Paige explained through the phone. "My friends are super chill and it's always a fun time, if you ever wanna come. Think about it?"

The idea of spending time with the basketball player you'd quickly become enthralled with, seemed almost like a dream. And getting away from LA and all the madness that came with it sounded heavenly, you were going to give Connecticut a thought.

You sighed, feeling a warmth spread through you that had been absent for far too long. "Yeah, I will. And Paige?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. Really."

"Anytime, Y/N. Sweet dreams."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[savanir]

Death of the Father, Death of the Son

Part 3

prev and OG prompt

Dick was just about finished with his preparations in the Batjet when one of his brothers barged in and dumped some of their stuff inside as well.

“I’m coming with you” Tim straps down the case he brought and plants his ass in the copilot seat.

Dick looks at him with a slight frown, “Tim…”

“no I want to see the murder scenes with my own eyes and it’s good for you to have some backup-”

“I’ll be just fine on my own babybird-”

“-cause we don’t know if this is just one assassin or a whole organization”

“ok. and now you can tell me the real reason you want to come along”

Tim gives Dick a side-eye before slumping down“... Alf has been talking with Bruce about me needing fresh air again and I rather do that preemptively and on my own terms so you’re just gonna have to accept you’re stuck with me on this one now”

Dick sighs, and ruffles Tim’s hair before strapping himself in the pilot seat and ignoring the indignant squawk from his brother, “sure, fine, Oracle we’re heading out now”

“have a safe trip Nightwing”

and they are off

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

Amity Park is about what they expected, outwardly nothing remarkable, somewhat sleepy. But upon closer inspection the signs of multiple battles are quite clear.

Though apparently it’s been quite a while now since the last “ghost” battle. There is a lot of speculation as to why among the town folks which could be important to look into some other time, but for now the boys put a pin in it and get to breaking and entering the old Fenton household for their investigation.

Things seem to be normal inside the house but… ahem, well...

Tim inspects all the strange tech that looks just haphazardly slapped on the walls with a critical eye while Dick lifts one of the family photos to have a better look.

“looks like a normal average american household to me, even with mom and dad preferring to wear hazmat suits everywhere apparently” there really aren’t any pictures where they aren’t wearing the orange and teal suits. Madeline Fenton wasn’t wearing one at the Gala though, she looks a lot more comfortable in these pictures.

Dick looks around some more, “is it just me or does this place just feel… depressing?”

“yeah no I get what you mean, there is nobody here but I also feel a lot like I’m intruding” Tim hums, “more than normal that is”

“Red…” 

Tim elects to ignore that tone of voice completely, “there is no way any of this stuff is even remotely up to code” he then peeks at the picture as well, he of course already knew what the murdered father and missing son looked like, he’s done his homework, but this is a casual happy family picture, that always drives home the fact that these were- are real people. 

but how did they all get dragged into this situation, this mess that is slowly turning into something a lot more complicated… maybe… well that’s why he’s here. To figure it out.

The stairs that lead to the basement lab are in the kitchen for some reason, and once down there they both need a moment to take the whole place in.

The entire house is rather abandoned but this place looks as if it hasn't been touched since the police did their own investigation.

There is some tape and markers that were left behind but overall it looks a lot like a hurricane went through it, exploded, and then everything got covered in a fine layer of dust.

Tim opens the case he brought with him and begins setting up the holo scanners to make a copy of the whole place that they’ll be able to project in the batcave later, in case they miss something now.

It's only after that’s done that they start to have a look themselves.

“Even this badly wrecked it definitely looks like some sort of evil lair” Tim mutters as he inspects the nearest vaguely firearm shaped object, or maybe it’s a hair blower he’s not sure, it’s got Fenton Works™ stamped on it though.

“is that a portal” Dick meant it as a question but it ends up sounding like a statement.

It gets Tim’s attention though, “I… maybe?” it kinda looks like one potentially, busted up to hell though.

Dick carefully approaches it but doesn’t for a second think about going in there,“Mostly looks like a hole in the wall now though, I’m not going in there to check with all those wires on the ground, talk about a trip hazard. Not to mention the threat of electrocution, has nobody here heard about cable management?!”

“where is your sense of adventure Wingster, besides I am pretty sure this place is cut off from electricity now” 

“yeah, I’m not taking the risk with sketchy evil lair portals today” 

Dick lets Tim do his own detective work while he takes out a little device Batman made to alert him to Deadman. He figures it would be interesting to get a read on the place and see if it's really ghosts that have been causing a mess in Amity Park or if it is something else that just appears paranormal.

The ecto-detection goes completely wild however. “Alright well… uhh”

"What's that?”

“I was just curious if something occult was going on around here what with everyone blaming the past attacks on ghosts and thinking that whatever happened here probably has something to do with them as well… but I'll be honest, Boston never registered anywhere near this high. And it's just - everywhere”

“So any further investigation into Amity Park itself is gonna have to be done by Dark?”

“probably” though Tim is also fully planning on doing a full investigation himself.

Either way, they put a pin in that too.

They have a good look at the areas where bullets made an impact, scorch marks and the broken examination tables. They are about done when Tim asks if it would be worth it to break into the local police department and have a lot at (steal) whatever evidence they might still have on the case.

They could have something useful, unless it is who Dick really hopes it’s not. 

They leave the basement and are greeted with the sight of two teens in the kitchen.

hm…

Dick decides to just go with a cheery hello,

“Holy shit it’s Nightwing and Red Robin!” Tucker basically has stars in his eyes.

“After the message we got from Jazz I kinda expected the big bat”

“That's not true, you said after all this time you didn’t think they were actually gonna come at all- ow!” Sam doesn’t hesitate to  hit him in the shoulder. 

“Didn't think we'd show up” Tim says.

“Well am I wrong?” Sam sneers, “the only reason you guys are here is cause it’s a Gotham thing now. Otherwise someone actually competent would have looked into this months ago”

Tucker shrugs sheepishly and looks a little pained, “perhaps we shouldn't antagonize the Justice League heroes?”

Sam looks about ready to start hissing, it reminds Tim somewhat of the demon brat when he's particularly upset. “whatever” she says.

Tucker now has a strained smile, “uh, if you guys were wondering how we knew you were in here, that's because Jazz asked us to keep an eye on the place”

they tripped an alarm? how… Everything in here is cut off and disabled. some sort of battery based system maybe? but they would have surely picked up on that…

Dick figures he might as well just go ahead and ask some questions so he takes a seat and the other two follow suit more at ease than the two birds expected. Tim decides to wander a bit more around the kitchen. Maybe there is something he missed here.

“so, I'm just gonna go out on a limb here and assume that you two also think Daniel-”

“Danny” Sam corrects immediatly 

“-yes Danny, you two also think he's still alive?”

The question is immediately answered by a, “yes” and a, “he is”

“Jazz also seemed very certain of this despite the fact that a body was found. what makes you all so sure?”

Sam looks ready to spring into another tirade, Dick is starting to suspect that she has a serious issue with ‘not being taken seriously’

“Jazz told you guys already about the clone thing right? just go to Vlad's estate and it's all there in his evil basement laboratory”

“and we also know someone who can check deaths through occult stuff, and they confirmed that he has not… you know, crossed over”

“occult like magic?”

“or something, they were never wrong before. we do realize this isn't hard evidence obviously but they are a friend and not the type to just tell us what we want to hear” this is the easiest way to explain that they got in contact with the ghosts to have them look through the realms for Danny.

“I'd like to speak with-”

“that's gonna be hard, they don't show up with all the government people crawling about”

“so that individual with proof cannot be reached so we can’t verify their claims”

“nope”

unfortunate, but they did already say it wasn't hard evidence. It seems that these two aren’t going to budge on it which seems a little odd to Dick, there are known magic users in the League. Someone being able to check into the afterlife or whatever to see if someone is truly dead isn’t completely out of left field, it should be fine to meet with that person and at least hear them out… so why are ‘’government people’’ an issue? are they possibly wanted for some crime? oh well…

“when we went to them it was mostly just to know. you know? like… mr. Fenton got murdered and Danny went missing, and nobody knew anything or could find anything. Everyone suspected ghosts of course. and we just wanted to know if our best friend was dead or not, if searching was even worth it”

“and now the fruitloop got assassinated. to us it basically also confirms it you know. he's still alive, and it would absolutely be best to shut up the one guy who knows about the whole thing”

But why smear Masters? Why not do it quietly? And what makes Daniel so special?

Tim just knows he's going to end up with more sleepless nights because of this.

In the end the two teens aren’t actually all that cooperative. It seems they actually have mostly shown up to check what was going on inside the Fenton household, Tim and Dick decide not to push them too much then and there, figuring they could visit Master’s estate first, verify the clone allegations, and after that get back to these two, perhaps when they get more intel and have something more substantial to work these then Sam and Tucker will be a bit more forthcoming as well.

Only time will tell.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

Slade had to go on some solo mission and at this point he's okay with leaving the boys to handle themselves, Danny eagerly takes the opportunity to do his own thing. 

Aka, going after politicians to get the acts repealed. Making deals with the ones who value their lives and can see a good opportunity when they are presented with one and getting his name out there. If he’s an actual threat people will be forced to listen. 

This day though he lands a hit that the supers in Metropolis somehow know about…

someone somewhere snitched, or… they are compromised. A worry for later.

"Memento Mori, they say you're trained by the Deathstroke and that you have an absolute success rate. And that you only kill your target and no one else on one of your assignments... but today all of it is coming to an end because with my tactile telekinesis I-" 

"If I had known that all I had to do to meet a real life alien was to act up a little I would have gone down this road a lot sooner" Danny leans against the AC unit on top of the apartment building they are currently on.

Kon splutters, "what?"

"Alright, okay, clone of an alien, which to me is still basically the same thing. Very cool, honestly, if you ask me, even better"

Kon puffs up, "well I am pretty awesome if I say so myself"

"Absolutely, out of this world some would say"

Kon snorts, then remembers what's actually going on here, "are you trying to distract me?"

"Maybe? Is it working?" Kon pouts and makes a so-so gesture. "I do mean it though. You're easily in my top five favorite aliens"

Kon blushes quite prettily "Uhm, well I... oh wait aliens? Not heroes?"

"Ah, yeah well about that, I guess I'm not a fan of that? Especially not currently. What with you being in my way and all that"

"Oh so if I were to politely ask to not kill the lady"

"Yeah I'm still gonna do that, sorry"

Kon sighs, "well in that case I'll-" 

He promptly gets knocked back by an impressive punch to the face. Mostly stunned by the fact that it properly hurts and then realizing Danny can move at all.

"You got distracted" and gives him a wink.

Kon rubs his jaw, "Oh you think you're cute"

"not just cute, I am adorable" and Kon just knows this smug bastard is grinning at him under the mask he can’t see through.

He really wishes he didn't have a thing for dark haired spunky dangerous people.

"... it- it doesn't matter, even with your freaky assassin skills there is no way-"

"You're a bit of a terrible match up against me though, no offense" Danny is trying to not overuse his abilities. He doesn't want the justice league to know about all of them. but it'll turn into a messy and long fight where neither come out on top if he sticks with the regular stuff. And that would allow backup to arrive and make things even more complicated... 

"Damn... I just don't have time for this"

Kon makes sure he's prepared to intercept anything Danny might throw at him now.

"If you go invisible I'll just follow the sound of your heartbeat"

"Oh" Danny turns his heart off. He can't do that indefinitely while in human form though, but this will do for this fight. "How about now"

"What the-? Are you alright!?"

"Awww you’re worried? That's sweet. Supersweet one could say," Danny turns invisible, "you should really be more worried about yourself though Superboy"

Kon tries if he can keep visual with his X-ray vision, he thinks about trying to do a sweep for even the slightest disturbance with his TTK field when a freezing cold shiver shoots up his spine.  

There is a moment of silence where nothing and nobody moves and then Kon can hear Superman in the distance. 

"Kon! What's going on!"

"That little- he slipped away!" 

"That's unfortunate... meet up with Kara at Miss Holloway’s location. Together we'll be able to stop him there"

"No I think I can-" Kon tries to argue

"Superboy" superman sounds stern 

"... fine, I'm going"

Kon makes a direct beeline for the target location and a grin can't help but spread over his face. He pushes his sunglasses up a bit more to hide the glowing green eyes. 

Now that he got to this point he’s getting back to wondering who tipped the supers off though. Having to switch to plan B was rather annoying. 

And he still absolutely doesn't like overshadowing people but what can you do… mission first, personal and ethical little hang ups second.

Superboy went under so smoothly though, Danny wondered why that was until he did a careful skim of the surface and sensed the roiling self hatred. He suspects that'll do it.

Danny feels sorta bad though, Superboy really is up there in his list of coolest things this world has to offer. He'll have to make it up to him after this is all over somehow. In a way that won’t compromise himself, and also avoid the old man knowing. 

It's then that he realizes he's arrived at the target location, it's showtime!

"Here I am"

Kara gives him a wave and he smoothly touches down, it really is a good thing he already knows how to fly and stuff, makes the whole pretending to be a Kryptonian thing a bit easier. "Got away huh?"

He huffs, "he can just turn his heartbeat off, how was I supposed to know that?"

"Deathstroke's protégé's are on a different level for sure. But even they have a limit"

Right... sure... underestimate him, very smart...

Not that he can really blame them. They probably think he's a baseline human with maybe some meta abilities or just a new upgraded Ikon suit.

"Can I see the tip off?

"Again? Sure. Though I doubt you'll see anything in it that we haven't seen yet. Oracle is trying to trace it but..."

"Hm, what if..." yeah some of this was very familiar, "what if it's Deathstroke and he's treating this whole thing as a screwed up training exercise?"

"That... I sure hope not"

"He's insane enough for that though"

"I hate that you could be right"

The silence stretches. 

"Are you alright Kon?"

Danny startles a little, "Yeah! I'm just, frustrated"

"Ah, don't worry. With the three of us standing ready it'll be fine. We'll catch him" she presses her fist in her open palm.

Danny feels a careful smile spread on Kon's face. 

"Hey, you check up on the lady and I'll make it look like I'm not involved in all this. Kal is close by and after that we'll try that thing with you spreading your TTK field super far"

Using Superboy's ability as a net? Interesting. "Gotcha"

Supergirl nods and then takes off and Danny figures he might as well just get this whole thing over with now. 

The lady is right there, she barely acknowledges him when he politely greets her. Rude…

And then he snaps her neck. 

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

"Youuuu" Danny storms up to Slade with vicious green overtaking his usual blue, “you fucking motherf-”

"Boy-"

"Don't you boy me. You sabotaged my assignment!"

"False accusations?"

Danny gives him a look that screams ‘are you for real…’ "Of course I took a moment to investigate. I had to know if we had a leak. But you tipping off the supers you absolute-"

Slade nods, satisfied that Danny looked into the matter, "You were fine, you need to be challenged to learn how to adapt to any situation. The moment things become complicated you resort to your abilities"

"Get off it old man I'm only half human of course I'm using my damn abilities, they are a fucking part of me! You though- You're the biggest dick in the universe and-"

Any civilized conversation quickly ends after that as it gradually devolves into a physical fight.

"Bastard" Danny mutters as he focuses his healing to fix his black eye first. 

"Cool down brat” Slade says, looking no worse for wear, “We'll go over the whole thing in more depth later" and the veteran assassin leaves the room. 

Danny fumes as he handles his patch up himself. While doing so he allows himself a moment of self loathing. 

He hates that he's making progress getting the ecto acts removed. "working" with the people who are happily removing the thing and getting rid of those that ignorantly want to keep it in place. 

He hates that the G.I.W are easier to handle with his new skillset.

He really hates how easy this is getting. 

And he really really hates how there was zero hesitation to overshadow Superboy and use him. 

He can't wait till this is over, one way or another.

[willowsnook]

When Love is Left Unspoken pt. 3 (MV)

max verstappen x reader

tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @maluzets55 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @what-a-curated-mess @anilovessadbooks @how-what-why-huh @abbyandersonstargirl

pt. 1, pt. 2

After Brazil, you flew back to New York to catch up on brand content and the stack of books waiting for you. It was a rainy afternoon when just after filming your October reads, your phone pinged. Max was streaming. You'd turned the notifications back on after Austin but hadn’t actually tuned in.

Setting up your phone in the kitchen, you half-listened to him playing Minecraft as you started dinner. Then you heard him say your name, and you froze.

“Lots and lots of questions about y/n, I see. I’m trying to win her back, guys, so I need your help. Any suggestions?”

You smiled as you scanned the chat comments.

Move to NYC

Let her drive your F1 car

Fly her out to all your races

Propose

With a grin, you couldn’t resist joining the fun. Typing quickly, you sent a comment that lit up the chat.

Y/N: $500 worth of books is a good first step, I think.

The next morning, your doorman called. “I need you to come down and get these packages. There are way too many.”

Confused, you walked downstairs—only to be met with a pile of Barnes & Noble boxes and realization hit. Back in your apartment, you opened them to find 25 books from your Goodreads “want to read” list. Your heart swelled.

Y/N: Max! This was too much!

MV: Nothing is too much when it comes to you.

Later that day, you went live on Instagram, answering questions. Predictably, most were about Max. Your fans were torn, with some excited at the idea of you two rekindling and others still wary.

“Look, I get it. He did me dirty, but it’s complicated. It’s easy to say I shouldn’t even consider this, but we have 15 years of history. He’s… still my Max.”

A comment caught your eye.

Maxverstappen1: Glad to know I still have a chance.

The chat erupted, and before long, gossip accounts were tagging you in posts speculating on your relationship.

That evening, you were winding down with a glass of wine, just about to turn on the Thursday Night Football game, when there was a knock at your door. With a sigh, you shuffled to answer it, already irritated by the interruption—until you opened the door to find Max standing there.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, surprised.

“Oh, I was just in the area,” he said casually, his eyes gleaming, though you spotted a duffel bag at his feet.

“In the area? With your luggage?”

“Mmmhmm.” He grinned as you laughed, letting him in. He set his bag on the counter and pulled you into a warm hug, resting his head on top of yours.

“We’re supposed to be taking it slow, Max,” you reminded him, your voice muffled against his chest.

“Whatever, schatje.” He rolled his eyes as you led him to the couch. He plopped down beside you, lifting your legs onto his lap, and you couldn’t help but relax into the moment.

“How long are you staying?” you asked as he pretended to watch the game.

“Until Monday, if that’s okay.”

“And you just assumed I’d drop everything to host you?” you teased.

“Yeah,” he replied, turning back to the screen.

“Ugh, you’re impossible.”

He smirked. “Cheer up, schatje. I got us tickets to the Bills game on Sunday so you can see your team. And I get to see Daniel.”

Your face lit up. “Daniel’s going to be there?”

He narrowed his eyes, a hint of jealousy flickering. “Yeah. Don’t act too excited.”

You laughed, entwining your fingers with his, grateful for these small, familiar moments.

The next two days were spent showing Max around NYC, and you started to fall back into your old habits with him. He refused to let go of your hand anytime you were walking somewhere, and you felt his eyes on you everywhere you went. 

It was Saturday night, and you were waiting for a table outside of a restaurant, watching as Max took a selfie with a younger fan. 

“Is that your girlfriend? She’s pretty,” the young girl said, and you blushed. Max shot you a big smile. 

“She is pretty, but not my girlfriend. She will be soon,” he replied, and the girl giggled. 

Max led you to your table with one hand resting on your lower back. You’d chosen one of your favorite Italian restaurants, and you're eager to put a nice bottle of wine on his tab, of course. 

Sitting across from him, you felt nervous at the intimacy of the setting. His eyes were swimming with emotions of the past and where you were now. 

“I want to hear everything that has happened to you since I last saw you in Australia,” he said inquisitively. You took a sip of your wine before diving in. 

You told him about your channel growing and getting famous guests on the podcast. How you’d moved to New York a year ago for a change of scenery but still visited back home often. You told him about your friends who had started getting married and having kids, but you weren’t jealous of them; you were very content in your life. You described NYC at Christmas and how the first time you experienced it, you felt like you were in a different world. He listened as you mentioned a few guys you had briefly dated, and he was pleased to hear that none of them had worked out. 

Finishing up your monologue, you meet Max’s gaze and notice the lingering sadness in his eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked concerned. 

“I’m just thinking about all the stuff I missed,” he admitted, looking down. “All the stuff I should have been there for. How could you ever forgive me?” 

His eyes glistened, and you thought for a moment before replying.

“Because I want to believe that the Max of the past is still there,” you said softly. “You broke me down, but I survived and kept going. As much as it hurt, good came out of it. Maybe we needed time to be away from each other to grow up. I don’t know if I can ever forget what happened, Max, but I can try and forgive.” 

He reached across the table to grab your hand, “I don’t deserve you.”

“You definitely don’t,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. 

—------------------------------------------------------

The next day, you bundled up in your Bills gear and headed off to meet up with Daniel before the game. He was supposedly at some random person’s tailgate, so you and Max wove through the hoards of people to get to him. Watching Max in this environment was very amusing as it was just another world of people; not a single person had stopped him to ask for a picture. 

“Hey man,” Max greeted Daniel, pulling him into a hug. “Enjoying retirement?” 

“I get to do this now, so of course,” Daniel joked before turning to you. 

“What’s up y/n? It’s been a while,” he said, eyebrows raised, and you knew a million questions were running through his mind. He had been Max’s teammate for a little while back then, so you knew him well. 

“It has,” you agreed. More and more people joined the tailgate, and you could tell Max was getting on edge. 

You were conversing with Scotty and Daniel when you grabbed Max’s hand, pulling him closer to you to ease his discomfort. He took your invitation, sliding behind you with his arms wrapped around your chest, his head resting on the top of yours. Daniel gave him a big smirk, and you rolled your eyes, moving your hands up to hold on to Max’s. 

Max had no idea what was happening during the whole game but he still enjoyed watching you get so excited. The way your face lit up in excitement was something he was committing to memory, hoping he would get that same look from you soon enough. 

After the game, you walked back to your apartment, the city lights twinkling as you strolled through the crisp November air. Max kept your hand firmly in his, his thumb brushing against your knuckles in a way that made your heart race.

Inside, you set your things down, still buzzing from the excitement of the game. Max shrugged off his jacket, glancing around the apartment as though trying to memorize every detail.

He looked over at you, his expression softening. "You know, this place really suits you."

You smiled. "Thanks. It finally feels like home."

There was a pause, a comfortable silence settling between you. Then, he spoke again, his voice laced with a vulnerability you rarely heard from him. "I want you to come to the Netherlands with me for the holidays. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’d love for you to see my family again and… just, maybe, have you close."

You looked at him, surprised. His gaze was steady, unwavering, but there was a hint of nervousness in his eyes. You could see he was waiting for an answer, for you to trust him again enough to take this step.

“Max…” You hesitated, your mind racing. A part of you was scared of what it would mean to spend Christmas with him and his family—to be a part of his life again. But then you looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the man who had always been there, in some way, over the years.

A smile crept onto your face. “Alright. I’ll come.”

His face lit up in a way you hadn’t seen in a long time. He pulled you into his arms, kissing your forehead softly. "You have no idea how happy that makes me."

You laughed, suddenly feeling warm and at ease. "I guess we’ll see how much Dutch I remember."

As he held you close, you knew that whatever lay ahead, you were ready to see where this new chapter with him would lead.

[harknessxo]

Paring: Serial-killer!Stalker!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: You get to have your happy ending with Agatha in the end.

Warnings; smut, fingers, cunnilingus (A receiving), strap on use, mommy kink, praise/degradation kink.

Word Count: 5.3k

Part 1, Part 2

A/n: A lot of people wanted a part three and here it is. This is the final part!

Monica was outside like she said she would when they released you. The car ride was a bit awkward especially after your outburst. She would glance over at you every now and then, not sure what to say. She was worried about you and the fact that you seemed to have some sort of attachment to Agatha. She knew that you were a good person and that you wouldn’t hurt anyone on purpose but she couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease.

“Y/n…can I ask you something?”

“Mhm.” She hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Do you really love her?”

“I…” you paused and remembered what Agatha had told you, “No, no I don’t. I don’t know what was going through my head. I’m sorry for my outburst,” you lied, chuckling nervously. She let out a sigh of relief, her grip on the steering wheel loosening.

“Thank god. I was worried about you. You seemed so…possessed.”

“Hah…I guess I just needed some time to process everything….”

“I understand. It’s a lot to take in. But I need you to promise me something, okay?”

“What’s that?”

“Promise me that you will go see a therapist. I know a good one in town. She helped a friend of mine a while ago.” She could tell you were acting a bit. She just wanted what was best for you.

“I…I promise.”

“Good. I just want to make sure you’re okay. Here,” she took out a paper card from her purse, “This is her number.” You took the card from her and read out the name.

“Christina Raynor.” Monica nodded.

“Yeah, she’s a good therapist. I think you’ll like her. Just give her a call and set up an appointment, okay?”

“Will do.” Just as you finished your sentence, she pulled up in front of your house and put the car in park.

“Alright, we’re here. Do you need me to come inside with you?”

“No, it's fine. She’s in jail now.” You joked uncomfortably and she chuckled.

“You’re right. She’s locked up tight. I still can’t believe she got away with all those murders for so long…”

“Me neither,” you didn’t like the thought of talking bad about Agatha so you just hugged her to get it over with, “Thank you, Monica.” She hugged you back, squeezing you tightly.

“You’re welcome. Just take care of yourself, okay? And call me if you need anything.”

You bid her goodbye and went inside your house. It felt so empty, you wanted Agatha to be here with you. It was 6 pm by now and you were nowhere near tired. You decided to sit on your couch, exactly where Agatha had sat earlier that day, and watch some tv. It was hard to find anything to watch, almost every channel talking about the serial killer being put behind bars. It made your blood boil.

The news kept going on and on about Agatha and her crimes. Some of them were praising the police for finally catching her, others were speculating on how long she would get in prison. You tried to change the channel but it seemed like every channel was talking about her. It made you miss her even more. The way she touched you, the way she kissed you, the way she spoke to you. You missed everything about her.

Then you remembered the brooch. You took it out of your pocket and looked at it. Brushing your fingers over the symbol on it. You didn’t know what it meant but you knew it meant a lot to Agatha. You had no idea why it was so important to Agatha but just looking at it made you feel a strange connection to her. It almost felt like she was right next to you, watching over you with her cold, blue eyes.

The following days felt like torture. You had scheduled some appointments with the therapist Monica told you about like you promised. She seemed to see right through your act but you didn’t give in.

Every time you would go into her office, she could sense that you were lying to her. You would tell her how happy you were to be free from Agatha and how much you were enjoying your freedom but there was a part of you that missed her. Christina could see it in your eyes, even if you tried to hide it. It was like there was a void inside of you that only Agatha could fill.

“Alright, let’s try this once again, what happened the morning after Wanda’s murder?” Christian asked. She’s been asking the same questions every session trying to get something out of you.

“This again?” You sighed.

“Yes, again. You’ve been dodging the question every time I ask you about it.”

“I woke up, Monica called me to look at the news and I saw Agatha was the killer. I cried like everyone does then someone rang my doorbell. I went to look and simply found a flower on the floor and then Agatha kidnapped me. Happy?” She jotted something down on her notepad before looking up at you again.

“Who left the flower on your doorstep?”

“Agatha.” You answered flatly and she leaned back in her chair, eyeing you carefully.

“And why do you think she left a flower?”

“I don’t know…” you acted dumb. You knew why she left it. She left it as a way to apologize for killing Wanda. Christina sighed, clearly getting frustrated with you.

“Y/n, you can’t just act like you don’t know. I need you to be honest with me.”

“I am. I don’t know why she left it.” She closed her notepad, crossing her arms.

“You do realize that lying to your therapist isn’t going to get you anywhere, right?”

“Look, I’m only here because I made a promise to a friend. I am fine.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling deeply.

“Being ‘fine’ and needing therapy are two completely different things. Clearly, you have something that you’re not telling me and I think it has something to do with the fact that you have developed Stockholm syndrome and you choose to ignore it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I could never love someone who killed my best friend,” you lied. Saying that sentence almost physically hurt you. Christina chuckled, shaking her head.

“That’s exactly the problem, sweetheart. You do love her. Whether you admit it to yourself or not, you do.”

“Alright, are we done here?” You were starting to get agitated.

“Yes, we’re done for today. But I’m telling you, the sooner you accept your feelings for her, the easier it’ll be to deal with this whole situation.”

You simply gathered your things and left. The whole day your thoughts would go to Agatha. Was she actually coming for you? Did she actually love you? Was everyone else right? You shook your head, trying not to let those thoughts get to you. The drive home was miserable, you dreaded go back to an empty house. Everyday you hoped Agatha would be there when you got back but it’s been almost a week and no luck.

You arrived at your house and opened the door, being greeted by the same deafening silence that had plagued your home the past few days. It was late now, nearing 8pm, and you hadn’t eaten anything yet. You sighed as you closed the door behind you, dropping your bag and keys on the floor. You were hungry but you had no energy to cook.

“What’s got you so gloomy, sweet girl?” A voice suddenly said. Your head almost instantly turned towards the direction of the voice.

“Aggie?” She chuckled as she emerged from the shadows, stepping into the light. She was leaning against the wall with a smirk on her face, extending her arms outwards.

“Did you miss me?” You ran into her arms, clinging to her like she was your lifeline while tears spilled down your cheeks.

“I’ve missed you so much,” you sobbed. She was quick to wrap her arms around you, pulling you against her body as you clung to her. She gently stroked your hair, running her fingers through it as she shushed you.

“Shh… it’s okay, baby girl. I’m here now.”

“How did you get out?” You asked, curiously. She smirked again, tilting your chin up so that you were looking at her.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that but we must hurry. They will be looking for me soon and they will most likely come here first.”

“Okay…oh!” you stopped abruptly, searching for something in your pocket, “I kept it safe like you asked,” you smiled, handing her the brooch. She smiled when you handed her the brooch, taking it from your hand and inspecting it carefully. A look of relief washed over her face as she saw that it was undamaged.

“Good girl…” she put the brooch on your shirt, “I want you to keep it. Now, be a good girl and get your things. We need to leave before they come.”

“Okay!” You were about to run upstairs but she grabbed your arm before you could go any further.

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, mommy.” Agatha smiled, pulling you flush against her again. She put a finger under your chin, making you look up at her.

“You're so perfect for me, baby, I can’t wait to have you all to myself again.”

“Please kiss me!” You begged. She chuckled, amused by how needy you were already. She leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, hungry kiss, her hands grabbing your hips to pull you even closer to her. You pathetically melted into her. You would have fallen if it wasn’t for her hands on your hips holding you up. She felt you go weak in her arms and she broke the kiss for a moment, just to whisper against your lips.

“So sensitive, baby. You’re so desperate for me but let’s get your things,” she started leading you upstairs so you could pack essentials. After all your things were safely packed, she led you to a black SUV outside. You were confused on how she was able to get a hold of it but decided to not ask questions. She opened the passenger side door and gently pushed you into the seat before going around to the driver’s side. She started the car and pulled out of your street, starting the long drive to what was meant to be your new home.

“Where are we going, mommy?”

“A place I have set up just for us, sweetheart. Somewhere no one will find us.” She reached over and placed her hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it as she drove. She was clearly enjoying the fact that you were already calling her mommy again.

“You promise? I don’t want to have to go through that again. Everyone kept telling me that you were using me and that you didn’t actually love me-”

“Don’t listen to those fools, baby. I love you more than you could ever know. They’re just jealous of the fact that you belong to me and no one else.” She scoffed at your words, her grip on your thigh tightening.

“Really?”

“Of course, baby girl. I’ve loved you since the day I laid eyes on you and I’ll continue to love you for as long as I live. No one will ever take you away from me. You’re mine.”

“And you’re mine?” She chuckled at your question, a small smirk on her face.

“All yours, sweetheart. You own me just as much as I own you.” You smiled sweetly at her, intertwining your hand with hers.

“My best girl,” she said, kissing the back of your hand before continuing to drive in comfortable silence. The drive was quite long but you didn’t care as long as you had Agatha. By the time you arrived at your new home in the middle of nowhere, the sun had begun to rise. The house was in the middle of the woods, far away from any signs of civilization. There was a lake not too far away from it and it was beautiful. Agatha parked the car and got out, walking around to open your door for you and holding out her hand for you to take.

“Aggie, this is beautiful,” you gushed, looking at the house and its surroundings. She chuckled as she took your hand and pulled you out of the car, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you against her side. She looked at the house and then back at you, a satisfied smile on her face.

“I knew you’d like it, baby. I picked it just for you.”

“How were you even able to get it?” She smirked at your question, giving your hip a squeeze as she started walking towards the front door.

“You don’t want to know, sweetheart.” You just nodded in response and she handed you the keys so you would be the first to go in. She watched as you opened the door, her eyes glued to you the whole time. You were practically buzzing with excitement as she stepped inside after you, shutting the door behind her and pinning you against it.

“Mommy?” Your voice trembled with anticipation. Her eyes darkened as you called her that again. She pushed herself up against you, her body pressed against yours as she looked down at you.

“Do you want mommy's fingers?”

“Mhm!” You nodded your head desperately. She smirked again, loving how desperate you were already. She grabbed your chin and tilted your head up, forcing you to look at her.

“Tell me, did you touch yourself while I was away?”

“No. Only you can.”

“Fuck, angel. I couldn’t have asked for a better girl,” she claimed your lips, shoving her tongue in your mouth. You tried to keep up with her pace but it was difficult when she was so hungry for you. She was relentless, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as her hands roamed your body. She pushed her knee between your legs, applying pressure against your core.

“Hmph!” She grinned against your lips, pulling away to nip at your jawline as she continued to apply pressure to your core with her knee. Her hands slid down to your hips, gripping them tightly and holding you in place against the door.

“Mommy, please!” You needed her and fast.

“Please what, baby? Use your words,” She teased, nipping at your neck before sucking on it, determined to leave marks all over your skin.

“I need you,” you whined, your hands gripping onto her shirt. She groaned at your whine, her resolve breaking as she picked you up and carried you further into the house. She was still marking up your neck as she made her way towards the bedroom, leaving a trail of marks behind as she went.

Once you were in the bedroom, she placed you on the bed and the both of you scattered to take your clothes off. She wasted no time in removing her clothes, her eyes roaming over your body hungrily as you did the same. She quickly climbed onto the bed and pinned you down, straddling your waist as she leaned down and continued marking up your skin, making sure to cover every inch of your body with hickeys.

“S-stop teasing,” you whined pathetically, trying to push her down to where you need her most.

“Nuh uh,” she pinned your hands above your head, “Do I have to tie you up again, hm? I bet you would like that.”

“But mommy-” you sobbed.

“No buts, baby girl. I’m in control here, remember? I’ll do whatever I want with you,” she said in a dominant tone, her grip on your wrists tightening as she nipped at your earlobe.

Tears of agony rolled down your cheeks as you tried to grind your hips against her for any sort of relief. Not having her for a week was absolute torture. She smiled at your tears, seeing you so desperate was a sight she would never get tired of. She chuckled as you tried to grind against her, holding your hips down to stop you from moving.

“Aw, is someone being a needy little girl? You really can’t wait for me to touch you, can you?”

“I need you so bad,” you sobbed again.

“I know, sweetheart. But I want to hear you beg for it. I want to hear you beg for mommy’s fingers,” she cooed in your ear, her voice low and sultry as she continued to hold your wrists and hips down with ease.

“Pretty please? I’ll be good, mommy!”

“God, baby, you sound so pretty when you beg,” she let go of your wrist and instead gripped to the back of your neck, pulling at your hair, “Say it again,” she demanded.

“Pretty please?” you said again, this time with an innocent tone knowing it would make her spiral. Agatha let out a low groan at your tone. She could feel her resolve crumbling once again as she looked down at you. You were too cute and too desperate and it was driving her insane.

“You know I can’t say no to you,” she slipped her fingers inside you without warning. She cursed under her breath as she felt how wet you were, her fingers easily sliding in. She started to move them slowly, curling them against your walls as she watched your expression intently. She watched as your brows frowned in pleasure, her hand still pulling at your hair.

“Look at you, so desperate for my fingers. You’re already a moaning mess and I’ve barely even touched you,” she said in a mocking tone, her pace slowly picking up as she continued to thrust her fingers in and out of you. Your hands gripped onto her back, your nails digging into it, leaving moon crescent shapes behind.

She let out a moan of her own at the feeling of your nails digging into her back. It hurt a bit but she absolutely loved it. She continued to move her fingers faster, keeping her pace relentless as she started to suck on your neck again, leaving behind even more marks.

“Mommy! I want- I need m-more!”

“Aww, you need more? My baby’s greedy, isn’t she?” She teased as she added a third finger, curling them all and pushing them deep inside of you. You absolutely melted with the added pressure. It felt so fucking good. She could feel you getting tighter around her fingers and it was driving her crazy. She moved her lips up to your ear, nibbling on the lobe as she whispered to you.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Just take my fingers. They feel so good inside you, don’t they?”

“Yes! So good!”

“My little slut,” she kissed you as she picked up the pace even more, her fingers moving in and out of you at a brutal pace, hitting all the right spots inside you.

“C-cum?” You babbled out, your speech reduced to gibberish.

“You want to cum, baby?” She asked, a smirk on her face as she kept up her pace, her fingers moving in and out of you at a punishing pace, her thumb rubbing against your clit. You nodded your head, unable to make up words.

“Go on then, baby. Cum for me,” She cooed, her fingers curling inside of you once again as she continued to play with your clit, wanting to see you fall apart completely under her touch. Your nails only dig deeper into her back as you came, drawing blood.

Agatha let out a pornographic moan of her own as she felt you digging your nails further into her back. It was so deliciously painful she could feel her own arousal growing, feeling incredibly needy for you but wanting to focus on your pleasure first.

“That’s it, baby girl. Such a good girl,” She said as she slowly pulled her fingers out of you, looking down at your trembling form with a smirk. She was about to get up to get her strap but you took a hold of her wrist.

“Mommy? Can I taste you, please?” She froze for a moment, not expecting that at all. She wasn’t used to her partners wanting to taste her. Usually she would just focus on them, getting off by giving them pleasure but with you…well, she couldn’t deny that she was very intrigued by the thought.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?”

“Mhm!” You eagerly responded. She looked down at you for a moment, her expression unreadable as she thought about it. She was tempted to say no just to tease you but in the end she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She wanted to see how good you were with your tongue.

“Go ahead then, angel.” To her surprise you pulled her up, making her sit in your face and you immediately got to work, lapping over her wet folds, moaning her sweet taste. She gasped as she felt the vibrations of your moans against her core. She braced herself against the headboard as you continued to lap at her folds, a shiver running down her spine as she felt your tongue on her.

“F-fuck…” she cursed as you worked h your tongue. You didn’t move your eyes from her face. She looked so beautiful when she was in pleasure. She tried her best to keep her composure but the way you worked your tongue was making it difficult. It felt so good, better than she could have imagined and the way you were staring up at her was driving her crazy. Her thighs clenched around your head as she bit down on her lip to try and stifle a moan.

You wanted to hear her moan so you gently bit down on her clit. A gasp turned into a loud moan when you did, her hips jerking forward involuntarily. She grabbed onto your hair tightly, holding you against her as she threw her head back in pleasure. You sneakily slid two fingers inside of her, knowing that would send her over the edge.

Agatha let out a string of curses as you slid your fingers inside her, her back arching and her grip on your hair tightening even more. Her hips began to move in rhythm with your fingers, desperately seeking more of you. With one final suck on her clit, she let herself come undone on your face, her hips halting. Her entire body trembled as she came, a loud moan escaping her lips as she let go of your hair and slumped back against the headboard. She was panting heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she came down from her high.

“Did I do good, mommy?” You asked ever so innocently. She let out a breathless laugh, looking down at you with a look of awe on her face. You were absolutely adorable, covered in her slick and looking up at her with those big eyes.

“You did more than good, baby. You did amazing,” she said before pulling you into a kiss, tasting herself on your tongue. She grabbed your chin, holding your face in place as she kissed you hungrily, claiming your mouth as hers.

You hadn’t realized how wet you had gotten from that until Agatha placed her knee in between your legs, putting little pressure on your pussy and you whimpered. She smirked as she heard the whimper escape your lips, pulling away from the kiss to look down at you with a smug expression. She could feel the wetness on her knee and it made her desire for you grow even more.

“Aww, is someone needy?”

“N-no,” you tried to deny it, thinking it was embarrassing to get so needy merely by getting her off. She chuckled, not believing your denial for a second. She could see how desperate you were just by looking at you. Your flushed face, your ragged breathing, the way your hips moved ever so slightly against her knee.

“You’re a terrible liar, hon. Do you want mommy’s cock, hm?” Your eyes immediately lit up at the mention of her strap. Her smirk only grew wider as she noticed your eyes light up. You wanted it so bad. She knew exactly what you were thinking and it made her want to tease you more.

“You want mommy’s strap that badly, huh?”

“Mhm!”

“Are you going to beg for it?” She asked in a low tone, her knee still between your legs and putting a little more pressure against your aching core.

“Please mommy? I want your cock so bad!” She let out a satisfied hum at your begging, her smirk never leaving her face. She loved the way you called her ‘mommy’ and the fact that you were so desperate for her was driving her crazy.

“That’s a good girl, asking so nicely,” she said, getting up and walking into the walk in close and came back with the strap around her hips. You looked at it and realized it was quite bigger than the one she used before, making you clench your thighs together. She could see the look of nervousness on your face but she could also see the hint of excitement in your eyes. She climbed back onto the bed, crawling over you and hovering above you with a predatory look in her eyes.

“Nervous, darling?”

“Isn’t it a little too big?” You asked, anxiously. She smiled and reached out to cup your cheek, gently caressing your face with her thumb.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll make it fit.” She got in between your legs, ready to be buried inside you until you abruptly stopped her. She looked at you, concerned for a second until you took her hand and wrapped it around your neck with an innocent look on your face. She didn’t expect you to do that but the way you were looking at her was making her brain short circuit. You were going to be the death of her.

She could feel her arousal growing even more as she tightened her grip on your neck, just enough to cut off some of your air supply. You gasped but didn’t make any move to stop her. Her smirk returned as she felt your pulse. She loved seeing you like this, so vulnerable and submissive beneath her. Her eyes were dark with lust as she leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Such a good girl, letting mommy take control,” then she thrusted the strap inside you.

You braced yourself as you tried to take every inch of the strap. She was slow at first, taking her time to push the strap into you. She could see the way your body tensed up as you tried to take all of it, but the way you squeezed around the toy only served to make her want to tease you even more. Once she was fully inside, she leaned down to suck and nibble at your nipples, leaving behind marks on your chest.

Your moans were strained because of the hand wrapped firmly around your neck but she still thought they were the prettiest sound. Her focus then turned to your pussy, watching as her strap went in and out, your walls clenching around it. She continued to move her hips, slowly pulling the strap out before thrusting it back in. The sight of you beneath her, completely at her mercy and taking her strap so well was something she’d never get tired of.

“You’re doing so well, darling. Taking mommy’s cock like a champ. Isn’t that right, superstar?” she praised, pressing her hand against the belly bulge that formed.

“M-mommy-” you babbled incoherently. She chuckled at your babbling, finding it adorable how your mind was already starting to go blank. She leaned down and kissed you, biting your bottom lip before speaking in a low, sultry tone.

“You can’t even speak, can you sweet girl? Too lost in the pleasure that mommy is giving you?”

“Hmmm…” She chuckled again, amused by your inability to form words. She could tell you were starting to get overwhelmed by everything, your body shaking slightly as she continued to move her hips at a steady pace. Her hand around your neck tightened just a bit more, restricting your air supply even more.

“Such a cute little mess you are right now. Just for me.”

“Fas- faster please!” You begged, suddenly finding your voice again. Her smirk grew wider as she heard your pleas for her to go faster. She was loving the way you were begging for her, it made her want to tease you even more.

“Oh? You want me to go faster, darling?” She asked in a teasing tone, her hips slowing down just to mess with you even more.

“No, don't slow down!” you quickly sobered up from being cockdrunk. She chuckled at your quick change of tone, her hips picking up speed once again. She was enjoying the way you were getting frustrated at her teasing, and the way your body jolted with each thrust was addicting to her.

“Don’t be so impatient, angel. Be a good girl and wait for mommy to give you what you want,” she said before letting go of your neck. She put your legs completely against your chest and started drilling into you. The new position allowed her to hit that spongy spot that made you completely spiral with pleasure.

She already knew your body like the back of her hand and knew exactly where to aim to make you fall apart even more. Her grip on your thighs tightened as she continued to thrust into you with vigor, moving her hand to rub your clit, not giving you a moment to catch your breath.

“Yes! Yes!” You sobbed, feeling yourself getting close to your climax. She loved the way you sobbed, the sound music to her ears. She could tell you were getting close and it only made her want to push you over the edge even faster.

“Are you gonna cum for me, honey? Are you gonna cum all over mommy’s cock?”

“Please?” She chuckled at your needy response, loving the way you begged her to let you cum.

“Such an obedient little girl asking for permission. Go ahead baby, make a mess for mommy.” You finally came undone, gripping onto the bed sheets, moaning Agatha’s name loudly. She continued to thrust into you through your orgasm, prolonging it as much as possible. She loved the way you gripped the sheets and the way your body shook with pleasure. She watched you intently, committing every single expression and sound to memory.

“That’s my good little cock slut,” she slowed her thrusts down, trying to pull out until you pulled her closer.

“Can you…can you keep it inside for a bit?” You asked timidly, your cheeks turning a rosy color. She smirked as she heard your request. You were always so shy about asking for things, even after she’d seen you in some of the most compromising positions.

“Of course, angel,” she said sweetly, leaning down to give you a soft kiss on the forehead before fully burying the strap inside you, letting out a low groan at the sight of your stomach bulging even more from the added pressure. You clung to her, loving the feeling of being full of her. She wrapped her arms around you, holding you close against her. She loved the way you clung to her like a lifeline, and the feeling of your body against hers was intoxicating. She ran her fingers through your hair, soothingly stroking your head as she peppered kisses all over your face.

“You’re so perfect, you know that? My perfect little toy, and I promise no one will take you away from me again.”

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[hxlda-hxlda]

“Of course not, Sirius, we’ve been married for years.” 

famous interview au oneshot thingy inspired by @sebbianas post which you can find here!!!! read the idea and could NOT get it out of my head until she was sitting in a google doc, and now here. enjoy:

“Now, since you came out in that viral Instagram post…” 

Sirius sighs, doing nothing to hide his exhaustion for what he knows is to come. 

The original intention behind the whole fucking thing was to stop the constant questions. The:  

‘Sirius, you wore a skirt to that event so who are you dating because, clearly, the two have to be correlated?’, ‘Sirius, you’ve always been a bit different’, ‘Sirius!’, Sirius–’, ‘Sirius…’ 

He’d hoped—stupidly, naively—that to get rid of the ambiguity would get rid of the incessant wondering. Sure, he fucked men, yes, he wore eyeliner and skirts, no the two weren’t really related, now can we please move the fuck on? 

No. No, we apparently cannot move the fuck on. The questions and the speculation and, and, and; it’s all still fucking there. 

“Sirius, there’s been talk of a relationship with bass player Remus Lupin for a while now. New rumours are sparking since the two of you have been spotted together a lot lately.” 

They’re both thinking of those pap pictures leaving the bar last month. 

“We were wondering if you could give us the inside scoop?” Greg is staring at him like he’s asking something new, like Sirius is actually very eager to share with the world the complexities of his relationships, as if it has anything to do with his modelling. It doesn’t, if you were wondering. Fucking men has nothing to do with a runway, either, actually. “Really, what is going on between the two of you?”

Sirius has been given press training many, many times, to field these kinds of questions. His agent, Gideon, had him memorise all the correct responses back to front, upside down. Curveball questions, sneaky implications, you name it; Sirius knows how he should respond to this. Hell, it’s on a fucking flash card.

His gut response, the thing Sirius is suddenly incredibly eager to do, is definitely not on a flash card.

However. But, but, and hear him out:

By fucking god, he was bored.

Greg had asked the same ten questions every other interviewer of the last year had asked with the same glint in his eyes as every other interviewer of the last year. Fame was great, but nobody told him it would be this goddamn boring. Repetitive. So many 'yes's and 'no's and 'wouldn't you like to know's.

So, Sirius proceeds, entirely disobeying those oh-so-holy flash cards.

“It would be an honour to give you the scoop, Greg, my dear,” Sirius says with a grin, shoving his hand into his back pocket. 

The interviewer’s eyes light up over his mic. 

“So-” When Sirius pulls out his phone, the glint is dimmed by confusion. “What-” 

“Why don’t we ask him right now?” 

There were strict rules about this, phones when live, phones during interviews, etcetera, etcetera, blah, blah. Sirius knew them all as well (see: a different set of flash cards). Sorry Gideon, Sirius thinks as he goes straight to his Favourites. He isn’t sorry. 

“Ask… who?” 

Sirius just winks. The call is already on its second ring. 

On the fourth, Sirius is almost worried Remus won’t actually pick up, but not really. Remus always picks up. 

Well, he always picks up when Sirius rings. Once, Marlene had called fifteen times in five minutes before Remus had responded two hours later with a ‘what?’ text. The man stuck true to his self-proclaimed Luddism, after all. 

On the fifth ring Greg is looking sceptical. Sirius knows Remus is also working right now. He’d mentioned a meeting with some producer. He remains confident nonethless. 

On the sixth ring, the call clicks as it is answered. A beat. And then: 

“What?” 

Remus sounds entirely unenthused to be answering a call at this moment, voice sullen. Sirius grins anyway, thrilled he’s picked up at all. As if he wouldn’t. As if he doesn’t always. 

“And hello to you, too.” 

“Aren’t you meant to be on that radio thing right now?” 

“We are, in fact, live at this very moment.” Sirius glances back to Greg who, despite being the host, has immediately lost all of his perceived-control. He’s watching Sirius blankly, only vaguely piecing together the fact that it is famed, award winning, world’s greatest (not that Sirius is at all biassed) bass player Remus Lupin’s voice coming through Sirius’ phone. Sirius smirks amusedly at Greg before turning back to the conversation at hand. One that finally fucking matters. “Good to know you’re listening in and supporting me, as always.” 

“Believe it or not, I have better things to do right now.” 

“You wound me, Moons.” 

That nickname did wonders on Twitter when it first became known, Sirius having slipped and referred to Remus as Moony in some other interview some other time. There's a ship name now. There are fanfictions. Sirius reads them aloud as dramatically as he can muster (which is, believe him, very) at the most inopportune times. Usually when Remus is busy, just to watch that cute little frown line in his forehead appear. 

“Is there a point to you interrupting my work, and also national radio, with this call?” 

“What if I just wanted to speak to you?” 

“I will hang up right now.” 

A lie. He never hangs up first. 

Sirius sighs again, another exhausted thing. “They want to know if we’re dating.” 

“Who?” 

“They. Everyone. The world. Greg.”

Sirius shoots the host another look, whose look of momentary shock has dissolved into interest. Hunger. This is the scoop, apparently. Like the both of them, Sirius and Remus, haven’t already been asked this question to death. 

“Greg?”

“Y’know, the guy with the grating voice on the station that plays the same five pop songs on repeat.” Gideon is going to kill him for that one. Sirius sends another silent apology he does not mean. 

“Ah, Greg.” 

Greg is frowning now. Sirius grins again. 

“So? C’mon Moons, tell us. They’re all waiting eagerly. They want to know,” he repeats.

“They always want to know,” Remus replies bluntly. 

“They’re in an extra persistent mood today.” 

When Sirius cuts his third look at Greg, he has the audacity to look entirely unapologetic, as if Sirius’ public life as a model translates to that of his private life. As if it makes total sense to badger him for months—no, scratch that, years—on who Sirius is and isn’t fucking, and whether or not, god forbid, they aren’t a female. 

“You can’t tell them yourself?” Remus’ voice distracts him from his angry spiral of thoughts. 

He could, of course. He has, a million fucking times, given an answer. Sirius even has his flash cards, for fuck’s sake. But this is much more fun. 

“Just answer the damn question, Lupin.” 

“You didn’t ask a question, Black.” 

Sirius rolls his eyes, incredibly aware this is dragging through the interview’s very minimal time slot. Good. 

“Are we dating, Remus?” he asks seriously (ha). 

A moment of silence. Sirius holds the phone closer to the mic, closer to his own ear. He can’t help himself, he wants to know how Moony will handle this as well. Then: 

“Of course not, Sirius, we’ve been married for years.” 

Greg’s eyes widen to saucers. Sirius keeps his face neutral, an impressive feat that would rival even Regulus’ own acting skills, if he says so himself, and Reg won a Tony last year. 

“Ah, how could I forget?” Sirius says instead of breaking into the laughter that he so desperately wants to roll into a heap with. “My husband.” 

“Truly, how could you? Should we consider divorce now?” Remus replies, voice as indistinguishably sullen as always. Sirius knows he’s smiling with his eyes, he can hear it. 

“Now that would make the papers.” 

“Certainly… Is that all?” 

“Yes, yes, go do your music-y things now.” 

Sirius can hear the eye roll as well. “Fine.” 

Sirius hangs up. He tucks the phone back into his pocket, taking his time. Then, then, he looks back up at Greg. The interviewer is a picture of shock, maybe a touch of confusion; wide eyes, jaw loose with a mouth that hangs, equally wide. 

“Well, Greg, how was that for a scoop?” Sirius raises a single, manicured eyebrow. 

“Wa– Was he being serious?” the man all but splutters. 

“What? No, of course not, I’m Sirius, silly.” 

“That’s not–” 

“Greg! I’m offended! Do you forget the names of all your guests? We’ve been talking for almost an hour now!” 

The longest fucking hour of Sirius’ life, mind you. But the rest of it goes by much faster and much more pleasantly, as Greg struggles to move on from that little show. It makes the dressing down from Gid all the more worth it. 

And by the time Sirius manages to check his phone again, emerging from hell (or Studio C, call it what you want) hours later, #wolfstar is already trending on Twitter. He screenshots it, sends it to Remus. 

pads !!!!!!!!!   

look what uve done  u menace 

MOONY ❤️‍🔥😍🌕

Fake news.  Lily and I are planning to run away together, actually.  

Sirius huffs a laugh. Sure, fake news.

[frankingsteinery]

i’ve seen a lot of people in general agreement of the headcanon that victor is on the spectrum, but i’ve very rarely seen someone examine the why, and being the persnickety superfluous person that i am (and not being immune to projection myself) i thought i’d try my hand at it and break down his autistic traits!

disclaimer that this interpretation is speculative and is simply my unprofessional neurodivergent opinion + it’s based on contemporary understandings of psychology, which were not part of shelley's context, however autistic people have always existed even if there wasnt a word for it during that time period, etc etc. you know the drill

without further ado!

-- communication & social interaction

first and foremost, many autistics struggle with socialization. victor’s inclination to attach himself to a single friend (henry) and only talking to those inside of his close circle rather than forming many connections reflects this tendency, and he himself acknowledges his dislike and indifference of strangers. for example:

“It was my temper to avoid a crowd and to attach myself fervently to a few. I was indifferent, therefore, to my school-fellows in general; but I united myself in the bonds of the closest friendship to one among them”

“My life had hitherto been remarkably secluded and domestic, and this had given me invincible repugnance to new countenances… I believed myself totally unfitted for the company of strangers”

furthermore, he lacks relationship degradation (he does not require regular interaction or relationship maintenance to sustain a bond). during the creation process, he (presumably) goes months without writing to his family and friends, which clerval lectures him for:

“Very well, and very happy, only a little uneasy that they hear from you so seldom. By the by, I mean to lecture you a little upon their account myself."

yet upon his arrival at ingolstadt:

"...nothing could equal [his] delight on seeing Clerval."

victor also takes things literally several times and social nuances can fly over his head. he demonstrates this literalism when first meeting elizabeth:

"And when, on the morrow, she presented Elizabeth to me as her promised gift, I, with childish seriousness, interpreted her words literally and looked upon Elizabeth as mine"

and, of course, the infamous i will be with you on your wedding-night scene, when the creature obviously means he tends to harm elizabeth, not victor himself:

“It is well. I go; but remember, I shall be with you on your wedding-night.” I started forward and exclaimed, “Villain! Before you sign my death-warrant, be sure that you are yourself safe!"

he also goes nonverbal and groans/vocalizes instead of speaking when upset. there's several instances of this that i can recall (i believe another is with walton), but i could only find one, where elizabeth has to speak for him during their visit to justine:

"When she saw who it was, she approached me and said, “Dear sir, you are very kind to visit me; you, I hope, do not believe that I am guilty?” ... I could not answer. “No, Justine,” said Elizabeth"

and this is more of a sidenote but he gives walton every. minute. detail. of his story, including his childhood in-depth (which was not particularly relevant to the moral of victors tale, which was the whole reason he wound up sharing his story in the first place) which definitely feels like. Something. reminiscent of infodumping almost.

-- repetitive behaviors

victor shows both repetitive motions and repetitive language to such an extent that it'd be ridiculous to put them all here, particularly when he is distressed and agitated. some of these motions include clasping his hands, covering his face with his hands, and gnashing his teeth, which he does on walton's boat, after finding out about william's death, in his confrontation with the creature, during his time at the orkney islands, etc. the use of certain phrases/verbal repetition  include his many "great god!"s and "begone!"s, which he usually says in reaction to the creature or while grieving a loved one. these behaviors are arguably self-stimulatory (stimming) and done to cope with overwhelming, stressful situations.

-- fixations/spinterests

ths one's perhaps his most blatant characteristic. victor has a highly focused, intense interest, initially in in the workings of the world itself:

"It was the secrets of heaven and earth that I desired to learn... still my inquiries were directed to the metaphysical, or in its highest sense, the physical secrets of the world."

"The world was to me a secret, which I desired to discover;"

"I have described myself as always having been imbued with a fervent longing to penetrate the secrets of nature"

this is to the extent that his education is noticeably different from his peers, both in acceleration in the topic of his choice and neglect of other, more typical studies due to the intensity of this focus:

“I confess that neither the structure of languages, nor the code of governments, nor the politics of various states possessed attractions for me.”

“…but by some fatality the overthrow of these men disinclined me to pursue my accustomed studies.”

this early fixation eventually narrows into a special interest in ancient alchemy, after victor finds one of agrippa's works and a "new light seems to dawn upon [his] mind," upon which he proceeds to acquire all the works of agrippa and other authors:

"When I returned home my first care was to procure the whole works of this author, and afterwards of Paracelsus and Albertus Magnus. I read and studied the wild fancies of these writers with delight; they appeared to me treasures known to few besides myself"

this remains his special interest until he is a teenager, upon which, after finding out ancient alchemy has been disproven, he takes up mathematics until his arrival at ingolstadt. then, his interest shifts into a fixation on natural philosophy, particularly chemistry, which becomes his "sole occupation":

"He concluded with a panegyric upon modern chemistry, the terms of which I shall never forget... one by one the various keys were touched which formed the mechanism of my being; chord after chord was sounded, and soon my mind was filled with one thought, one conception, one purpose"

"I read with ardour those works, so full of genius and discrimination, which modern inquirers have written on these subjects... the stars often disappeared in the light of morning whilst I was yet engaged in my laboratory. As I applied so closely, it may be easily conceived that my progress was rapid. My ardour was indeed the astonishment of the students, and my proficiency that of the masters"

which, of course, develops into an interest in physiology and the structure of the human frame, which leads to his obsession over the secret of life, followed by being "thus engaged, heart and soul, in one pursuit" during the creation of the creature.

-- intense, volatile emotions; resistance to change

in general, victor is very emotionally demonstrative, and has difficulty managing these emotions. he also experiences quick fluctuations in emotion. this is something he has experienced since childhood, and is something he maintains as an adult, when he acknowledges that:

"My temper was sometimes violent…"

some examples of these shifts in emotion:

"My heart, which was before sorrowful, now swelled with something like joy..."

"Sometimes he commanded his countenance and tones and related the most horrible incidents with a tranquil voice, suppressing every mark of agitation; then, like a volcano bursting forth, his face would suddenly change to an expression of the wildest rage as he shrieked out imprecations on his persecutor"

hand in hand with his emotional dysregulation, he shows resistance to change and has strong reactions to this change. the most obvious example of this is during the animation of the creature:

"The different accidents of life are not so changeable as the feelings of human nature... but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart"

"Mingled with this horror, I felt the bitterness of disappointment; dreams that had been my food and pleasant rest for so long a space were now become a hell to me; and the change was so rapid, the overthrow so complete!"

but it also occurs when moving to ingolstadt, suggesting a discomfort with unfamilarity and a need for stability:

I threw myself into the chaise that was to convey me away and indulged in the most melancholy reflections. I, who had ever been surrounded by amiable companions, continually engaged in endeavouring to bestow mutual pleasure—I was now alone.

-- black-and-white thinking

this aspect is most clearly shown through the way victor thinks about, and drops and gains interests and relationships. he spends years studying ancient alchemy and it is his principle interest, and then drops it on a dime and suddenly looks upon this passion with contempt:

“By one of those caprices of the mind which we are perhaps most subject to in early youth, I at once gave up my former occupations, set down natural history and all its progeny as a deformed and abortive creation, and entertained the greatest disdain for a would-be science which could never even step within the threshold of real knowledge. In this mood of mind I betook myself to the mathematics and the branches of study appertaining to that science as being built upon secure foundations, and so worthy of my consideration”

later, he spends four years with his mind filled with "one thought, one conception, one purpose" studying the processes of life so intensely he forgoes adequate food, water and rest. this culminates in the creation and subsequent animation of the creature, which he again turns around and abandons this interest immediately, to the extent that he cannot bear to think of natural philosophy:

Ever since the fatal night, the end of my labours, and the beginning of my misfortunes, I had conceived a violent antipathy even to the name of natural philosophy.

it's a very polarized, all-or-nothing approach that is mirrored with his relationships, too, which he alternatedly neglects -- he cuts contact when he goes to ingolstadt but abruptly picks it up again when henry comes into his life; when the creature flees victor's apartment, victor treats it as if he never existed entirely; his family only comes to the center of the narrative again when he gets the letter from alphonse about william's murder, despite 2 years having been passed at ingolstadt, etc.

and finally;

-- low empathy

victor repeatedly focuses solely on his own internal emotional experience, and struggles to fully comprehend and understand the depth of feelings of others and respond with compassion in conventional ways. during justine's trial, for instance, he elevates his own suffering above justine's, even as she faces her literal execution:

I rushed out of the court in agony. The tortures of the accused did not equal mine; she was sustained by innocence, but the fangs of remorse tore my bosom and would not forgo their hold.

Despair! Who dared talk of that? The poor victim, who on the morrow was to pass the awful boundary between life and death, felt not, as I did, such deep and bitter agony. 

similarly, victor dismisses ernest's grief after william's death, he frames it in terms of how it affects himself -- telling ernest to "be more calm" to avoid causing his own discomfort:

Ernest began to weep as he said these words. “Do not,” said I, “welcome me thus; try to be more calm, that I may not be absolutely miserable the moment I enter my father’s house after so long an absence.

this detachment suggests not deliberate cruelty (victor very clearly loves his family, and he's said to be kind several times) but a limited capacity to process and respond to other's emotions. this is a detachment that extends to his views of the dead. during the creation of the creature, he refers to the corpses he utilizes as only "materials" instead of once having been fully-fledged human beings, and he does not contemplate the lives or dignity of the deceased.

aaaaaand thats it! thank you for indulging my. headcanon projection land. let me know what you all think...

[acesofspadess]

The End of The Road

Pt. 2 to All Roads Lead Here

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

a/n: it's good I promise... aka Ace does not have the same race as Oscar... she's a long one

warnings: The Abu Dhabi GP

summary: It's finally race day, what does the future of Ace, Lando, McLaren hold.....

 “A very warm welcome to the top 3 Qualifying for the FIA Formula 1 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. In third place Carlos Sainz, in second place Ace Giovanelli, and taking his eighth pole position of the season and his first here in Abu Dhabi, our pole-sitter Lando Norris. Brilliant job Lando, well done to you….”

Him and Lando chatted for a few minutes before he moved on. “Ace, let's come to you now. Your fifth career front row start for McLaren. Let’s start by talking about that final lap in Q3. How pleased are you?” She  tilted her head and sucked her teeth.

“It was eh. Nothing to write home about to me.” She shrugged but continued, “I could have pushed more on that lap -clearly- and I left some of it on the table. You know, you can’t leave anything there because you’ll get eaten alive and unfortunately I did that today, and it’s why I’m not on pole. So, proud to be front row of course, but not thrilled about my lap.” She shrugged, biting the inside of her lip. 

“And were your preparations for that second lap affected by the uncertainty to do with the track limits on your first run of Q3?”

“I mean, it didn’t help.” She shrugged with a humourless chuckle. “But I knew I was doing another lap anyway. I needed more to go for pole, and I found it for all of 2 seconds, it just wasn’t quite enough. It didn’t help, there was definitely a moment in my mind that thought that was it, but it also didn’t change the plan, it just made me push harder.” She finished. She knew there was still all to play for tomorrow though.

“Now theres been a lot of speculation coming into this final weekend as to who’s gonna have the fastest car, McLaren or Ferrari. Are you surprised with the pace of your car? We’re you expecting a front row lockout.”

“No.” She answered simply making Carlos and Lando giggle.

“I mean what else is there to say?” She shrugged laughing. “I knew the car would perform well, but I also didn’t think Charles would have grid-penalty and I thought we would be inter-coordinated.”

After Carlos went they opened the questions up to the floor. 

“Question to Ace please?” She nodded, picking up her mic. “Just about that final run in Q3, did you have to take a bit more margin at turn 1 given what happened in the first run and how hard was the challenge bearing in mind where your car was? Thanks.”

“Eh….” she thought about her words, “Well, I didn’t have to take more margin, but I did by accident and I lost a lot of time in turn 1. I knew -even with the lap being given back- that it was incredibly close, but I still gave more than I wanted to. If they hadn’t taken it away, I would have pushed more. But, I’m fine with P2.”

There was a question for Carlos and then one for both her and Lando. “Question to both Mclaren drivers. Do you dare to dream about the title? And I guess specifically for Lando having been at the team for a little bit longer and been at the lows, will it feel a little bit extra special, having ridden that roller coaster the whole way through?” When he finished she looked at Lando who made no move to speak first, so she grabbed her mic.

“I think it will be very special, if we can pull it off, you know? You dont want to speak about it too much before the race though. I think in my past two years its been a rollercoaster, but I also know Lando has had a big rollercoaster as well. It would mean a lot for myself, but I know McLaren has come close many times and just didn’t have this level.” She explained. “I would love to be one of the two drivers that brings this to McLaren, and roots them back at the top.” She nodded as she ended her answer completely.

“Lando?”

“Um yeah, the only difference for me is I’ve been here longer. Ace was probably fortunate to not go through those years that we’ve had. There’s been some fun-”

“Beginning of last year was bad enough.” Ace chuckled in response to Lando.

“-yeah beginning of last year was pretty bad.” He agreed shaking his head. “But theres been some fun ones. I started off with this guy-” Carlos. “And we made progress, stepped back, made progress, nothing ever clicked really, or continued to grow…”

Ace listened as Lando continued on talking about his history in the team and how well the team is doing now.

“...the biggest thing for me is that I’m still in Papaya. That we both are. We believed in the team and what they could do. We’ve both had opportunities to fight for wins earlier than we did here in different teams…”

The next was for three of them on what winning the constructors  would mean to them and how it really is a team sport. Since Lando had technically already answered, it flipped to Ace. 

“It would mean a lot, of course. When you join F1 as a fan, there is a lot you don’t know and see as to why the constructors is so important outside of money, which is very important for team development, but it’s not the sole reason. You’re doing it for the tons of people who are working everyday on two race cars for Lando and I to succeed in our careers. There is probably more attention on it now because it’s been such a tight fight and both teams haven’t won for a long amount of time. But it’s very important for us as drivers as well.” 

“Alright we will leave-” And Ace and Lando were already grabbing their bottles and walking out. On the way back they were to do their post quali thoughts for instagram. They handed them a  mini mic and Lando went first. But then a fan came up and started posing with them. “You want to be in the video?” Lando asked the kid who held two thumbs up in response. “It’s a video.” Ace told the boy again who waved before running off.

“Alright. Hello.” Lando finally started. “Great qualifying from us.”Ace and Lando smiled at the fans who cheered at them from their yachts. “Tough.” HHe continued, “Tougher than we were expecting, tougher than we would have liked. Yeah we’ve been flying all weekend, but come Qualifying we had no advantage and all of a sudden, everyone was on us and making our lives, uh, a lot more tricky than what I would have liked. So to pull it off at the end and put in a mega Q3 lap, obviously something I’m very happy about. So, big thanks to the team, incredible job. Job number one, done. Today, our target was first and second. That’s what we achieved, but tomorrow is another day and its going to be a long one. We’ll keep our heads down, keep working hard tonight and try to pull something off tomorrow. And off to Ace.” He handed her the mic with a smile and she took it with one of her own.

“Yeah, P2.” She started, “Front- row lockout for the team which is what we wanted. As for me, I left a little bit in the last lap, which is a bit of a shame, but I'll take the front row. Big opportunity tomorrow for us and like Lando said, we’ll keep our heads down. Take tonight to figure out what it is we need to fix or adjust and come back better tomorrow.” She finished with a nod. The social media admin left them and they walked hand-in-hand back to the hub.  Ace broke off when they got the meeting room and though they were in the same room, it's like neither of them existed.

Ace was determined to get everything right. Even after Lando and his team had left she was asking her engineers where she could improve, how she could improve, what she needed to do into turn 1 to get a good launch and not be under pressure from Carlos or Max, take the lead if possible. What strategy plans they had for circumstances they may be thrown in. At one point it was just her in the room. The light from her screen being the only one in the room. 

“Ace, baby. We have dinner.” She looked up to see Lando. She didn’t know what to do. Lando was her boyfriend. She should confide in him about what she’s feeling. But he’s also her teammate, the only person she’s ever truly racing against. “I know, I just need to go over this lap one more time.” She told him. Lando sighed sitting in the chair next to her. “Don’t do this to yourself baby. It’s the last race, I know you want to end it on a high, but this isn’t the way. You know what you’re doing. Don’t give yourself the chance to be overly disappointed if you don’t get what you want from this race.” His hand reached over slowly during his speech to the power button, which he pressed when he finished leaving them in darkness. Ace turned to him fully and he opened his arms standing up. She followed and hugged him around his waist

“You need to relax tonight, baby.” He said, rubbing her back. “It’s going to be okay no matter what.” 

Race day

“Ace I know you weren’t too happy with P2, but that’s just how high you hold yourself, how is today going to go for you and the team?” Lawrence asked her as the did the drivers parade. “Yeah, we always want to be the best, and it’s about the championship today. If I have the chance to overtake you know, I want to take it, but its more about the championship today, so it’s a team game tonight and we just need to defend the guys behind us more than anything.”

The couple were doing their best to remain calm, not show the pressure they were under. Dinner with the families calmed Ace down, made her realise that whatever happened today was for the title not the race.

The grid was buzzing with energy as the sun was setting on the final race of the season. The tension was palpable, with both McLaren cars locking out the front row. Ace stood beside her car, helmet tucked under her arm, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. Lando approached her with a soft smile, his own helmet dangling loosely in his hand.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle despite the chaos around them.

She nodded, though her eyes gave away the mix of excitement and nerves. “Yeah, just… I want this so bad—for the team, for us—but I’m also terrified we’ll mess it up by fighting each other too hard out there.”

Lando chuckled, stepping closer. “Ace, listen to me. We’ve got this. We’ve been working all season for this moment, and you and I? We’re the best team out here. We’ll race smart. We know what we need to do.”

She bit her lip, looking up at him. “I just don’t want to be the one who ruins it. I don’t want to ruin us.”

He tilted his head, his smile growing as he reached out to gently squeeze her hand. “You couldn’t ruin us if you tried, trust me. No matter what happens today, we’ll cross that line together—whether it’s first and second, or second and third. The constructors’ is ours to win, and nothing will change that.”

Ace let out a shaky laugh, some of the tension melting away. “You’re ridiculously good at this pep talk thing, you know that?”

“I learned it from you.,” he replied softly, leaning in slightly.

The moment felt almost suspended in time, the roar of engines and bustling grid fading into the background. Lando touched her cheek lightly, his thumb brushing against her skin.

“Go out there and do what you do best,” he whispered. “And if you do end up beating me, just promise not to rub it in too much.”

Ace grinned, her heart lighter now. “Deal. Same goes for you.”

With that, Lando leaned in and pressed a quick but tender kiss to her lips, his helmet momentarily forgotten. When they broke apart, both were smiling—Ace’s nerves now replaced with determination.

“Let’s make it a race to remember,” she said, her voice steady.

“Always,” Lando replied, stepping back toward his car.

The formation lap put Ace back in the racing mindset, ‘just do what you do best’, and that was to race. 

“It’s lights out and away we go at the final Grand Prix of the year!”

Into turn 1 she thinks she has it, she’s still behind Lando and then all of sudden she’s off track. “No! What the fuck was that!” She screamed over the radio getting back on track. “We’ve got it. Keep going, head down.”

“Fuck! Come on Max!” She yelled, she was last, bottom of the grid. Under the virtual safety car she got closer to Franco and at the restart managed to overtake him. She had a lock up and ended up giving Franco a puncture. “This is terrible.”

“Box, box.”

The pit stop for damage assessment and fresh tires felt agonizingly long, and as she drove off, fire burned in her veins. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

Ace hit the track with renewed determination, carving through the field like a blade. Each overtake fueled her momentum. A few laps later, she closed in on Bottas, her patience giving way to precision as she slipped past him with a daring move.

“P19, now P18…” The radio updates spurred her on.

She didn’t care how early she’d pitted or how much tire wear she might face later. Right now, her singular focus was climbing back up the grid. Position by position, she fought her way forward, each overtake a small victory in the battle she wasn’t willing to lose.

"P6, Ace. Doing very well,” her engineer called. “Two seconds to Verstappen ahead.”

Max Verstappen. She knew this would be her toughest battle yet. Verstappen was the best defender on the grid, notorious for making his car as wide as the track itself. But she’d faced him before—she knew his tricks. This wasn’t her first fight.

“Gasly pitting ahead of Max,” her engineer informed her.

Ace’s lips twitched into a faint smile. That would put her P5. Sure enough, a few laps later, Verstappen followed suit and pitted, giving her P4. Charles Leclerc pitted soon after, and suddenly, she found herself in P3.

“P3, Ace. How are those tires doing?”

She quickly assessed. They were starting to feel slippery, but nothing she couldn’t handle. “Fine right now. A little bit of trouble, but still fine.”

Now, she was chasing down Sainz. She knew the Constructors’ Championship was theirs in this position, but the racer in her wasn’t ready to settle just yet. She defended fiercely against George Russell, who loomed behind her like a shadow. After a few laps of intense pressure, Russell finally pitted, leaving her with a new challenge—holding off Charles Leclerc, who was closing in from behind.

“Charles 10 seconds behind,” her engineer assured her.

The race was straightforward now: keep Sainz in her sights and protect her position at all costs. Lapped cars started coming into play, and the dirty air was making her car harder to control. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened as she fought to maintain consistency.

“The dirty air is making this hard,” she reported over the radio, her frustration creeping through her voice.

“Understood. Head down,” her engineer replied calmly, grounding her focus.

By lap 54, they were halfway through the lapped field. An open gap between the cars ahead provided some brief relief, allowing her to breathe a little easier.

“Three laps left. You’re doing good,” the calm voice in her ear reminded her.

Ace’s excitement began to build, but she forced herself to stay composed. There was no room for celebration yet—not until she crossed that line.

“Last lap. Yellow flags in sector 2.”

She instinctively lifted off the throttle, her focus sharpened as she navigated through the caution zone. And then she saw it—the final turn ahead, the finish line waiting for her. With a surge of emotion, she pushed through, crossing the line in P3.

Relief, pride, and pure adrenaline flooded her as she heard her engineer’s voice crackle through the radio.

“We did it Ace! We are the champions. Great race from you.”

“YESS. WHOOOOO! FUCK! What a race. So proud of this team, I couldn't have done this without you. PAPAYA RULES.”

Parking next to Lando in parc ferme she couldn't get out of her car quicker.

She jumped out and kneeled next to the car, tears finally spilling. The cheers were deafening. She stood taking a deep breath and spotted Lando. The two of them ran to each other, helmets still on and Ace jumped into her arms. “YOU DID IT!” She screamed at him. He laughed, putting her down. “Take this off!” He tapped her helmet and she all but threw it off.

He pulled her in by her waist and hugged her again with a hand on her head fingers lacing in her curls. “I want to kiss you so bad, but I know we can’t.” He told her. “It’s okay we have all night.” He hugged her again before screaming.

 “You pulled off an amazing race! I’m so proud of you. I love you so much, this wouldn’t be possible without you.” He told her holding her head in his hands. “I love you so much andI can fully admit this was all you Lando. You kept that P1 and gave this to us. Take this in. You made McLaren champions.” She said back to him.

“No, this was a team effort. It was never just me. We’re a team.” He told her, hugging her again. Zak came up to them and they had the biggest group hug. They saw their team, their family. This was such a surreal moment for her.

“Ace, interviews.” Zak pointed, standing next to Lando. She quickly realised she was just staring and went over to Nico.

“Ace, what an amazing race from you.  Mclaren has won the championship and you came from the very back of the grid to stand on the podium.” He said and she had a big smile on her face. “Thank you. It was very intense. I’m so proud of the team and especially Lando, he’ll say this was all the team, but this was all him today. Without him in P1, who knows how today could have gone. I'm so proud of everyone. A big thank you to the team and to all our supporters. It was a tricky race, I never intended to crash into turn 1, but it all worked out in the end.”

“Ace you made history today becoming the first woman to win a constructors championship. How does that feel? And can you say anything to the woman in this sport”

“Oh that’s amazing. Honestly I don’t know how to feel about that. It’s a big achievement, to be the first to do something, but woman are taking over this sport-”

There was a big roar as she said it, making her laugh. “See?! I’ve said it before, but never stop believing and fighting. You are worth the best seat, you are worth your wildest dreams. The impossible is so very much possible. Keep fighting, and know if no one else is in your corner I am.”

“Thank you Ace, P3, and a championship. Congratulations!” She waved as she walked off, handing the mic to Carlos and finding Lando again.

“You are so amazing.” She whispered to him, head tucked in his neck. “I’m trying very hard not to cry, so stop it.” He teased her. “I know, but you just had to know.” She kissed him again and Zak pulled her into another hug. “Such a great race from you. Thank you for sticking with us. For helping us make history. We need you and Lando, we couldn’t have done it without you. You are so talented and I’m excited for everything that comes next on and off the track.”

She hugged him again and she pulled away and turned back to Lando who was now doing his interview. “I was supposed to do this tomorrow, but I can’t wait.” He looked at her and waved her over and she was very confused. Putting the mic between his legs he pulled a small box the sleeve of his suit.

“Lando…” she whispered and as he pulled the mic from one his legs, and sank onto one knee the audience roared and she clapped her hands over her face. “I was meant to do this at a much prettier setting, but it’s moments like these we can’t take for granted. From the moment you stepped into the MTC I knew we would be much more than just  teammates. You have lit up my world in ways I didn’t think imaginable. I want to spend every moment like this one with you for the rest of my life. So, Ace Jules Giovanelli, will you marry me?”

She was in a flood of tears his whole speech and the moment he was done she was nodding her head. Nico held the mic in front of her and she laughed softly. “Yes, I’ll marry you, you muppet!” The cheering was so loud. Lando placed the ring on her hand and stood up pulling her in by her waist to hug her. “A Mclaren win, A Mclaren Championship, and a Mclaren engagement. What a way to end the season.” Nico commented, making Ace and Lando laugh into their hug. “I love you.” He said with every bone in his body. “I love you.” She said with every bone in hers.

They pulled away from each other but Lando grabbed her ringed hand. They waved at the audience who was still cheering, laughing and full of smiles. They walked off and everyone around them gave them hugs, but Carlos was the most special when the duo found him in the cool down room.

“I guess little Lando and little lion are not so little anymore, huh?” Ace was sent into more tears as he hugged them. “I’m very happy for you guys. You deserve each other more than I’ve ever seen two people in my life.”

They laughed as Zak came in yelling. “I’ll have you know, sneaking that box to him was the greatest achievement of my life.” Everyone in the room laughed at his words. “That was the most stressful two hours of my life.” He concluded. “You’re telling me.” Ace groaned, grabbing her hat and putting it on.

The race highlights played, and the very first clip was Max hitting Ace off track. “Oh!” Lando groaned and then winced. “I never want to do that ever again.” She shuddered. “Ace you were flying after that pit stop.”  Carlos complimented. I mean, I had new tires and knew everyone still had to pit. It was luck.”

“Too soon.” Lando teased. Ace giggled at his recap of Brazil. “Thank you, Carlos.” She said ignoring her now fiance. 

What a way to end the season. I’m so happy for those two. They fit together so well.

They really do. What I love is Lando said he was going to do it tomorrow for her birthday, but couldn’t wait any longer.

I know they love each other so much. Anyone can see that.

And here is one the newly engaged now. In third place, a fighting drive, the most positions she’s ever made up in a single Grand Prix, from P19 to P3, Ace Giovanelli.”

Ace walked out along the catwalk waving as she walked to the podium. She saw her and Lando’s family and waved to them with a big smile.

They were handed their trophies and she, Lando, and Zak champagne popped and sprayed each other the best they could considering it wasn’t real champagne. Ace couldn’t stop smiling and laughing. The fireworks rang for them. Lando took her ring clad hand and held it up. Everyone cheered again and they grabbed their trophies and walked off.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this.” She said looking at her ring. “I told you earlier I was going to marry you.” He laughed, before they saw a kid yelling for them. They posed quickly with the kid before going back into the cool down room to get to the paddock. “I know but I never expected it. You were going to do it tomorrow?” She asked to confirm.

“I have everything set up still. I wanted to give you everything you deserved.” He told her lovingly. “You have, and you always do.” She promised him. He squeezed her hand and rested his head on her shoulder quickly.

Walking through the paddock everyone came to the newly engaged couple. Ace was still smiling and said thank you too many times to count. Her girls found her right before she got to her garage and they all hugged her. “I’m sorry I’m so wet.” She laughed but they didn’t care.

“We are so happy for you.” Kika  told the couple. “Thank you for helping me.” Lando told them. “You knew?!” Ace gasped. “Everyone but you knew.” Kelly laughed and P ran and hugged her and Lando’s legs. “Hello P.” She said happily rubbing her back. “Are you coming with us tomorrow?” She asked and they laughed knowing she was referring to her birthday dinner. “We’ll be there cherie.” Ace promised. She hugged each one of them, Alexandra, Kika, Rebecca, Kelly, and Lily thanking them for everything.

“PAPAYA RULES!” Zak yelled the moment they walked in and they were doused in the sparkling beverage and they folded into each other to protect themselves but were laughing all the same. “Papaya rules! Papaya rules! Papaya rules!” They all chanted, throwing the drivers into the middle and handing them the constructors trophy.

They each took a side as the time started to yell lightly slowly increasing their volume until Ace and Lando thrusted it into the air. “Make a speech!” Andrea shouted. Ace laughed as Lando stepped back. “I just want to say a big thank you from both of us. We really could not have done this without you. For me personally, thank you for taking a very big step in letting the first woman race since the beginning of this sport. I wouldn’t want to have  made the history I have with any other team. I’ll pass it off to Lando now.”

Lando handed her the trophy as he spoke and the end of his speech made Ace tear up again. “...and thank you for bringing this lovely woman besides me into our team. You introduced me to my wife, my partner in crime and I cannot say thank you enough for that.” Ace grabbed his hand that was stretched out for her.

“This is just the beginning, next year is also our year, constructors and drivers.” Lando winked at her. “If I run him off track, no I didn’t.” She joked, making everyone laugh. “I still have my engine right?” He carried on from the other day.

Celebrations were put on pause as they had media to attend to. They went to the pen first and did their interviews together despite protest.

“Hey Ace and Lanod, congratulations. Earlier you both said you wanted P1, you wanted the victory, so how pleased are you with the dominant way you did that and with your team in the constructors?”

“Answer, baby.” Ace nudged Lando. “Very pleased of course. I mean, today was an incredible day for everyone, so much pressure, especially after turn 1, and Ace got taken out, it put a lot more pressure on everyone right? So, it was a tough race as much as it was straightforward and simple, one stop and all of those things, not really many safety cars and all of those things, or anything to mess things up, in my race at least. The pressure was still there and Carlos was close behind me the whole race, with the pitstop, which is where we get kinda nervous, but it was a perfectly executed stop, so well done to them and thank you to them. I’m just happy for the team, it’s a lot of work, a lot of effort, a lot of hours goes into achieving something like this, a lot of years, goes into achieving- like this is not a small feat, this is huge for everyone and so it’s a historic moment and for me to be apart of that is something i’ll remember forever.”

He looked down at you for you to answer. “I mean he’s taken the words from me. There was a lot of pressure to deal with when I went from P2 to dead last. I knew I had it in me to get to the points, but I was determined to not let Lando do it all by himself, fueled by the team telling me I still had it. P3 was a long shot by turn 2, but we did it. It’s history before our eyes, and like Lando said I’m very proud to be a part of it.”

“Your messages on the radio after the race were very similar in saying that next year would be your year for the drivers championship, both of you had made gains this year, and the confidence we’ve seen grow on track, do you both really fancy it next year?”

They both paused tilting their heads. “No..” They joked before giggling at each other. “We fancied it a bit already this year, but it was just a little too late. I’ve definitely had things to improve on and look back on and correct, we both have. But, nevertheless, the thing I’ve learned and gained the most from this year is 

confidence in myself.”

Ace smiled as Lando continued talking about how much he’s grown mentally. “And you Ace?”

She looked from Lando to Lawrence, “Oh, um,” she chuckled. “I’ve learned so much this year, confidence like Lando said, but also just knowledge about my limits and what I know I can achieve. I was too far from Lando at the time to fight this year, but next year I know it’ll be close. I want to enjoy our holiday, but I’m ready for next season to see how far we can go as a team and as drivers.”

“Congratulations on the championship and the engagement.” He bid them off, “Cheers.” They both replied, finishing their pen duties before heading to the conference room.

“Welcome to the FIA Formula 1 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix Post Race Press Conference. We will be joined shortly by our race winner and our third place, but we will kick things off with Carlos Sainz. How are-”

“They’ve just arrived.” He said seeing the couple walk in. “Alright let's start with our race winner. Lando Norris congrats on your 4th win of this 2024 season, and you are newly engaged so congratulations to that as well. Brilliant race, but most importantly your win gets Mclaren first across the line in the constructors championship…”

Ace and Lando looked at each other confused. 

“... how happy are you feeling this evening?”

“Uh, yeah, I mean I’m very very happy for many reasons, just as I’m sure everyone in the team is. It was a very special day for all of us. It was ours to lose today and I’m sure at certain moments people thought we weren’t  far away from it being lost, with two Ferraris and Ace getting taken out in turn 1, my heart for a second was like ‘oh God’, it wasn’t looking likely, but I just kept my head down, and kept focus. I knew I could do it and deliver, and I knew Ace would power through as well. But on the bigger side of things the constructors, um, you wouldn’t have thought that when you said the name McLaren, it feels wrong they not won a championship in 25 years, but for me to be part of it, for Ace to be part of it, it’s something we’re incredibly proud of. Achieving that has put the biggest smiles on everyone's faces. This is the biggest reward  you can give back to everyone who designs the car, builds the car, gets the partners, everyone has played such a big part so, just proud. Proud is my biggest thing. Of course I’m happy I finished the season this way, but I’m way more happy for the team than I am myself.”

“And just one last question for you Lando, how exposed did you feel when Ace was taken out in the first lap?” Lando chuckled nervously. “Yeah, very. I was watching the screens and saw Charles P8 by Lap 1. I was nervous, but I just needed to focus on myself, and make sure I was doing what I needed to. Carlos was never too far from me, and that wasn’t settling but, they were probably more nervous on the pit wall just watching everything than I was. But I felt bad for Ace, it wasn’t her fault. She did what we all knew she was capable of, which was not only getting into the points but getting a podium, which is what we wanted, so.”

They spoke to Carlos next and Lando went off to grab something. On his way back to the seat he crawled across the floor distracting both her and Carlos. “Lando’s just done a snake,” he called out making Lando jump and sit in his spot as if he were there the whole time. “The worm? A snake or a worm?” Ace was laughing quietly from her spot across from him. “What was I saying? He’s distracted me.” 

And then it was Ace’s turn. “Onto you Ace, first off congratulations on the engagement on the behalf of the Formula 1 family.  And a great race you had today, off in turn 1 in your incident with Max, and back up not only into the points, but P3. Just, how satisfied are you?”

Ace smiled, lifting her mic.  “Thank you, from both of us, but very satisfied. I was in the debrief room for our last night perfecting today and into turn 1 it all went sideways-”

“Litteraly.”

“Yes Carlos,” she laughed with him. “It threw me off a bit. The pit stop was longer than I wanted it to be, not that I wanted one in the second lap anyway, but. It wasn’t easy, but it also wasn’t hard.” She confessed. “I knew that with everyone still having to pit i would essential undercut the majority of the field, which I did. It was all a strategy game at the end of the day. Just glad I didn’t leave it all to Lando, even though he was fine on his own.” She said squeezing his leg in acknowledgment.

“Have you ever made that much progress before? From P19 to P3.”

“I don’t think here I have.” She shook her head. “Maybe in F2, I had some good starts there, but no I think that was a first.” She agreed before piping back up, “though statistically, i loss positions in the end.” She laughed, Lando’s chuckle triggering her.

“And then, how happy are you with the team, coming out champions?”

“Oh very happy, obviously. You don’t win the constructors in the last race, its a whole season battle. Everyone can say what they want about Papaya Rules and team orders, but here we are, you know?” She and some reporters chuckled. “Everything is a team game, and we played that game the best. From us here at the track to those at the factory who are putting our cars together by hand. Coming into this season we didn’t think it was possible. So, to be here now, with 6?” she looked at Lando who just shrugged not knowing what she was on about. “6 wins between the two of us, 2 sprint wins, plenty of podiums, and now the title. I would be an idiot to not be excited for the team.”

“Thank you, let’s open it to the floor now…”

Lando and Carlos got a few questions and Ace got some questions towards the end. “Question for Ace, firstly congratulation on the construction and the engagement. You had a very tricky start to the race today, but eneded up beating it, going into next year, do you think the power you should today, is going to stick, and do you think you’ll back fighting for the Drivers?”

“Thank you, I feel like I’ve been saying that all night.” She laughed. “I would like to yes, that I will always have the power to overtake everyone on the field per race, if I needed to, but we have no idea what next year is going to look like. As for the drivers, nothings changed. I came into this wanting it, and I’ll go into next year the same way.”

“Question for Ace and Lando, do you miss next season, Carlos fighting for the best position of the grid in the races? Do you understand that such a good driver is out of the top teams in Formula 1?”

Ace and Lando looked at each other as Lando picked up his mic. “Yes, we will miss Carlos.” He chuckled awkwardly. 

“I don’t think you will. I think it’s better.” Carlos chimed in laughing making Ace and Lando join in. “I’ll miss the battles. It’s diffrent,” he paused. “You know, Carlos is someone I know well, I started racing in Formula 1 with Carlos so, you always knew he was going to be there and he was always going to put up a good fight today, In all our meetings this morning we were saying,” he looked at you, “Let’s watch out for Carlos.’ because we knew he would doing his best. Williams has been improving, and they;ve never had someone with top team experience before. Even sometimes this year there were moments where Williams was very quick so. I’m expecting to still se him on track and I’m sure Williams will take a good step forward from where they are now, but we don’t know what;s going happen. It a shame because we know how good he is fighting for wins. But I’m sure we’ll see him again soon.”

Lando ended and Ace carried on. “I mean, of course we will miss Carlos. He’s brought us some great battles and wins, and it’s unfortunate seeing all that get to put to side, but thats racing sometimes. Carlos is a great driver and an even better team player- i think is the word-” she paused double checking, “But he will find a way to excel Williams as he does with every team he’s on. He had the seat everyone goes into Formula 1 wanting, so I’m not too worried about his future. But yes, I’ll miss our battles but I’ll see him on track and give him a wave as I lap him.”

Carlos snorted and Lando giggled at her tease. “Alright we’ll leave it here-”

Speeding out of the conference room they ran to their garage waving at fans still in the paddock. When they arrived for the team photo Zak handed them their trophies, and some real Ferrari champagne. Her and Lando held up fist alongside their trophies and cheered for the photo before quickly putting them down and running away from the team who were soaking them like crazy in champagne, the damage they did to the team was miniscule in comparison.

When everyone was out of champagne her and Lando clinked their bottles before taking a final sip of them. “Can we have a picture of the fiances now?” Andrea asked them and they smiled widely standing infront of the constructors sign. Lando immediately pulled her in for kiss and she stuck her left hand out for the camera to see. 

“I know some of you will be at dinner for AJ’s birthday slash engagement party,” Lando announced making everyone chuckle, “but if tonight is our last night, let’s get fucked up together!” Everyone cheered around him.

Ace and Lando hugged in the midst of all the papaya chaos. “Papaya Rules?” She asked him making him role his eyes, “The only rules you have are getting so drunk you don’t wake up until dinner tomorrow.”

“To getting fucked up?” She asked holding up her fist, Lando bumped it as they did before every session, every video, every meeting, “To getting fucked up.”

acegiovanelli 

liked by mclaren and others

acegiovanelli What a fucking night! CONSTRUCTORS WORLD CHAMPIONS! We had a great drive and ended up P3 after my best friend tried to kill me and get a head start on next year. Thank you to @mclaren for everything you’ve done for me these past two years. I’ll continue to make you proud as long as you’ll let me. #ThisTeam

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author (just pretend oscah is ace)

maxverstappen1 if anything I just unlocked your full potential

user23 max😭😭

acegiovanelli whatever helps you get drunk tonight

user24 oh they are so for real on being out all night

mclaren our history making girl 🧡

landonorris thank you for being the second best teammate I’ve ever had 🧡

user25 THATS YOUR FIANCÉ acegiovanelli @user25 no one comes ahead of Carlos 😒 carlossainz55 @acegiovanelli damn right

•••

taglist: @unlikelystay

[racefortheironthrone]

TLT World Building: The Nine Houses and the Logistics of Space Empires

Building off my earlier post about stele-and-obelisk travel and the River, I wanted to talk about something that's been rattling around my mind for a while, which is subluminary travel and the logistics of the Nine Houses. One of the things that has been brought up as a criticism of Muir's world-building as far back as Gideon the Ninth is that the Empire seems to have very, very fast non-FTL travel, such that Gideon and Harrow travel the 3.3 billion miles from Pluto to Earth in an hour, without using a stele. How, it was asked, does an Empire whose military relies on swords and whose medical knowledge is incredibly uneven at best, accomplish a technological feat of that magnitude?

I think we got an answer for that in Nona the Ninth:

“That ship’s not big enough for a stele. Don’t know if it’s big enough for subluminary travel, even. How did it get here?” Crown leant back in her chair, staring at the projector screen, head balanced in the crook of one golden arm. Nona noticed that her biceps showed even through her shirt, and that there were rubber bandages wrapped around one palm. She said, “Oh, that’s big enough for subluminary travel, Millie. See the double struts, and the massive exhaust? That’s a Ziz-class.” ...Crown continued, “The Ziz isn’t Cohort standard. And it’s not as big on the inside as you think. Look at the windows—see how there’re none on the back end? It’s mostly engine. Not plated either. It’ll get to sublume without many problems … but it definitely doesn’t have room for a stele. Camilla is right. It can’t travel by obelisk anchor.” Pyrrha said suddenly, “Crown. How’s the fuel consumption on a Ziz-class ship?” “Thirsty,” said Crown, brightening up at being asked. “Its cell would be totally drained after a day in subluminary. It only takes the powerful stuff too—thalergy-enriched, not just hydrogen blend. Hydrogen blend stuffs up the engine.”

The answer is necromancy. (Because of course it is.) The Empire infuses shuttle fuel with thalergy - and we know that the necromantic specialty of the Second House is to "drain thalergy from any living source and use it," so the Empire can treat thalergy as a fungible resource that they can extract, store, and then use somewhere else. Moreover, we know that the necromantic specialty of the Fourth House is "exciting thanergy into a state of fission" in order to produce explosions.

Since necromancy can easily convert thalergy into thanergy, I think that the Empire's higher-end shuttles are powered by necromantic pulse propulsion, such that shuttle fuel is burned to produce thrust, but then at the same time the thanergy is turned into a massive fission explosion behind the shuttle, producing even more thrust.

I think this also explains why the Second and Fourth are so disproportionately represented in the Cohort, because in addition to producing soldiers for the front lines, they're heavily involved with making the Cohort Fleets move. (I'm going to further speculate that the Fourth make up a lot of the Fleets' pilots, since that would fit their necromantic specialties, the nature of their planet, and their image as gung-ho "go fast" types.) This leads me to a few conclusions:

it explains why the Empire is so focused on short-term extraction; it's essentially stripping the thalergy for fuel to power subluminary transportation in the Dominicus system and beyond, in the same way that we're burning fossil fuels to power our economies today. There is a profound irony in that Mr. Environmentalist John Gaius has so precisely recreated the dynamics of the carbon economy through necromancy.

it explains how logistics in the Nine Houses work. If you can use necromantic fission drives to get from the outer edge of the Dominicus system to the core that quickly, than most of the logistical complexities of running a multiplanetary economy fall away. All you have to do is get your transport shuttle full of goods from the colonies to a stele at the edge of the Dominicus system, and then necromantic fission solves the "last mile problem" of getting your Necro-Amazon "just-in-time" deliveries to the hungry markets of the Third or the Fifth. You don't need to worry about the fact that you can't produce a lot of organic resources on thanergetic planets (especially ones that are space stations and the like rather than fully terraformed), because you just have everything delivered.

it similarly explains how logistics out in the colonies work. Even if you're at the edge of the stele network, necromantic fission shuttles can transport goods between planets in the same solar system with relative ease. It only becomes an issue when you're a ways out from the edge of the network, because that involves burning more thalergy-enriched fuel. Hence why Corona talks about "the Cohort movements didn’t make sense to her...shepherd planets got more costly the further the Houses extended themselves."

This makes me think of necromancy in a different way than I had before. Rather than just being about magic and warfare, necromancy is essentially the technology of the Nine Houses (aside from some legacy technologies that they have left over from pre-Resurrection), the tool that they use to solve all of their problems and make their society and economy and government function.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Any thoughts on the mystery behind the Veil of Death and the three brothers?

ana-lyz: So... What does it mean to be the Master of Death in HP universe? And like what does being MOD mean specifically for Harry?

Okay, funny thing is I got the first of your asks like an hour after I added to my drafts a post titled "Master of Death", so I was just thinking about it. And then I started answering it and you sent the second ask, so, great minds think alike, I guess.

Long post ahead:

The Veil, Death, and its Master

I'm going to cover what we know from the books, my opinions on it, and some of my evidence-based headcanons, since there is a lot of speculation on my part.

The Afterlife and the Veil

So, I wanna talk a bit about death, as it appears in the Harry Potter books. We know an afterlife exists in the HP world both when Harry dies and when he speaks to Nearly Headless Nick after Sirius dies.

I want to start with the scene in Deathly Hallows in the King's Cross limbo. Specifically these few sections:

Barely had the wish formed in his head than robes appeared a short distance away. He took them and put them on. They were soft, clean, and warm. It was extraordinary how they had appeared just like that, the moment he had wanted them. . . . He stood up, looking around. Was he in some great Room of Requirement?

(DH, 596)

“Where are we, exactly?” “Well, I was going to ask you that,” said Dumbledore, looking around. “Where would you say that we are?” Until Dumbledore had asked, Harry had not known. Now, however, he found that he had an answer ready to give. “It looks,” he said slowly, “like King’s Cross station. Except a lot cleaner and empty, and there are no trains as far as I can see.” “King’s Cross station!” Dumbledore was chuckling immoderately. “Good gracious, really?” “Well, where do you think we are?” asked Harry, a little defensively. “My dear boy, I have no idea. This is, as they say, your party.”

(DH, 601)

“Tell me one last thing,” said Harry. “Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?” Dumbledore beamed at him, and his voice sounded loud and strong in Harry’s ears even though the bright white mist was descending again, obscuring his figure. “Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?

(DH, 610)

I don't think this place Harry was in is the Afterlife, or even connected to the Afterlife. I think it is in Harry's head. Harry having complete control over it, actually calling it out as behaving like the Room of Requirement, Dumbledore not knowing where they are until Harry knows where they are, etc. All this doesn't fit with it being a limbo on the way to death and the figure there being the real Dumbledore. Dumbledore, throughout this scene, acts kind of strange, way more helpful and finally says all the right things Harry wants to hear.

Not-Dumbledore himself tells Harry he already knows everything he explains to him:

“Explain,” said Harry. “But you already know,” said Dumbledore. He twiddled his thumbs together

(DH, 597)

So, I truly believe it isn't really happening. That this isn't death and it isn't Dumbledore. throughout the scene, Dumbledore doesn't actually give Harry new information Harry couldn't guess on his own. He's just going over things Harry already knew and creating a nice narrative out of them. At some points, he asks Harry what he thinks, and only starts explaining once Harry knows the answer (or what he wants the answer to be). I think this is Harry's subconscious coping and not actual death.

Additionally, there's the disturbing baby Voldemort thing. Now, the real Voldemort is still alive, so contrary to what Not-Dumbledore says, it isn't actually Tom Riddle:

“Oh yes!” said Dumbledore. “Yes, he destroyed it. Your soul is whole, and completely your own, Harry.” “But then . . . ” Harry glanced over his shoulder to where the small, maimed creature trembled under the chair. “What is that, Professor?” “Something that is beyond either of our help,” said Dumbledore

(DH, 598)

What I believe it is, is the soul in the Horcrux in Harry. Separated from Harry's own soul within his mind. That's the only thing it can be, in my opinion. I don't believe the soul shards in the Horcruxes could pass into an afterlife, or even to limbo. They were created to be bound to life and passing away is against their very nature (unless, maybe, if you throw them through the veil).

Besides all these oddities in the scene, it just doesn't make sense for Dumbledore to be there. Nearly Headless Nick gives some insight about death and the Afterlife:

“He will not come back,” repeated Nick quietly. “He will have . . . gone on.” “What d’you mean, ‘gone on’?” said Harry quickly. “Gone on where? Listen — what happens when you die, anyway? Where do you go? Why doesn’t everyone come back? Why isn’t this place full of ghosts? Why — ?” “I cannot answer,” said Nick. “You’re dead, aren’t you?” said Harry exasperatedly. “Who can answer better than you?” “I was afraid of death,” said Nick. “I chose to remain behind. I sometimes wonder whether I oughtn’t to have . . . Well, that is neither here nor there. . . . In fact, I am neither here nor there. . . .” He gave a small sad chuckle. “I know nothing of the secrets of death, Harry, for I chose my feeble imitation of life instead. I believe learned wizards study the matter in the Department of Mysteries —”

(OotP, 861)

From the way Nick speaks, ghosts are caught between life and death, part of them remains among the living while the rest moves on. Ghosts live in limbo, unable to be alive or dead. From his words, it also implies the properly dead, those who chose to move on, stay dead. They stay gone.

If that's the case, how could Dumbledore come to greet Harry in limbo? He's dead, truly gone, and death has no exceptions. There is no reason Dumbledore could speak to Harry in limbo and his parents won't. Once you're dead, you reach the afterlife and there you stay.

So I don't think the white King's Cross in Harry's death vision was connected to the afterlife, nor was it the real Dumbledore there. So, what is the actual afterlife?

Well, we don't really know. But, I can cover what we do know about the nature of death in the HP universe.

From Nick's words, the afterlife is the better option, than becoming a ghost. Nick describes ghosts as imprints left behind, but imprints of what specifically?

I talked about this already when I discussed how to make Horcruxes, but in alchemy, everything is comprised of three things:

Sulfur - soul

Mercury - spirit (that binds the body and the soul)

Salt - body

A ghost doesn't have a body, and we know all that moves on to the afterlife is one's soul. Therefore, it stands to reason ghosts are an imprint of a soul, while the spirit leaves at the moment of death. That's what an Avada Kedavra does, it removes the spirit, the connection between the body and the soul. That's how it kills instantly and without a trace.

So, when someone passes into the afterlife, it's their soul that passes away.

What about the echoes of Harry's parents and Cedric in Voldemort's wand during the duel in the graveyard?

Well, they're dead, they moved on, so it can't be their soul. The figures aren't even described the same way as ghosts or diary Tom, figures we know are made of souls:

and then something much larger began to blossom from Voldemort’s wand tip, a great, grayish something, that looked as though it were made of the solidest, densest smoke. . . . It was a head . . . now a chest and arms . . . the torso of Cedric Diggory. the dense shadow of a second head, If ever Harry might have released his wand from shock, it would have been then, but instinct kept him clutching his wand tightly, so that the thread of golden light remained unbroken, even though the thick gray ghost of Cedric Diggory (was it a ghost? it looked so solid) emerged in its entirety from the end of Voldemort’s wand, as though it were squeezing itself out of a very narrow tunnel . . . and this shade of Cedric stood up, and looked up and down the golden thread of light, and spoke.

(GoF, 665-666)

Their bodies are buried, and Cedric's is just lying there, neither are they physical enough to be bodies. I believe this is their spirit. Remember what I said about the Killing Curse just now, it severs the tie, and as such, it keeps the spirit. So, Harry is speaking to his parents' spirit, the echoes of their lives, not souls.

Now, let's talk about the veil. The veil is one of the most fascinating things introduced in the books, and the way it is introduced is fascinating on its own, but that's for later. The veil is a physical archway into the world of the dead.

The concept of such an entrance exists in multiple mythologies. In Greek mythology, many heroes (Odysseus, Orpheus, Heracles, Theseus, etc.) all travel through the underworld in one way or another, this is why the hero's journey goes through the underworld, it's very common. In Mesopotamian mythology, Gilgamesh and Ishtar both travel to the underworld. The point is, a gateway into the afterlife you can travel through, is a concept humanity has been toying with for millennia.

What's interesting is that, like Thestrals, those who've seen death (Harry, Luna, and Neville) can hear whispers from it. They experience it differently from others who haven't witnessed death (Ron, Hermione, and Ginny) who feel unnerved by it (although, Neville and Luna react differently from Harry, but more on that later). Not much more can be said about it, except that unlike all these gates into the underworld from myths, the veil is meant to be a one-way ticket.

In general, the afterlife in the Wizarding World is a one-way passage. Once you're gone, you're gone. Hence the closest thing to proper necromancy they have is creating inferi, which are soulless since the soul can't be pulled back from the afterlife.

The veil was also there before the Ministry of Magic, which was built around it. My guess is that some ancient wizards made it, and how or why were forgotten over time.

As the Peverell brothers were born around the 1210s and the Ministry of Magic was founded in 1707, it's possible, that the same Peverells from the story have built the veil. I actually think it's quite likely.

Death Himself

The idea of death personified is just as old and prevalent in many myths and cultures as a gateway leading into the afterlife. Whether Death, as a being, exists in the Wizarding World, I'm uncertain, but I don't think it's likely.

God-like spirits like Death feel out of place in the world in a way. Like, having a pantheon of gods feels wrong for the world of Harry Potter. It feels out of place with the established lore and magic. We don't see any evidence of wizarding society having any kind of unique religion in which such beings exist. Death, in the tale, is also described as similar to a dementor, making the idea that the author based Death's appearance on that of a dementor plausible.

That being said, Death's similarity to dementors could be the other way around. As in, the dementors look like death because of their connection to him. And, Death from the Tale doesn't really act like a god. How he behaves and is spoken of in the Tale of the Three Brothers reminds me a lot of a fae-like creature. Like, a powerful being who's a trickster that twists your wishes into something that he can use against you.

However I look at it, I still don't feel a being like this would fit in the world of Harry Potter, it feels wrong to add gods (or fae) in there. We don't see any hint that such beings might exist, which makes me feel they don't. So, I don't really think a personification of Death as appearing in the tale actually exists, but they do have an afterlife, as established above.

The Peverells and the Hallows

So we all know the legend about the three Peverell brothers who cheated death and received his gifts. Dumbledore (the one Harry imagines in his death fever dream) is certain it went down a little differently. That the tale is to explain incredibly powerful magical artifacts made by extraordinary wizards:

“Oh yes, I think so. Whether they met Death on a lonely road . . . I think it more likely that the Peverell brothers were simply gifted, dangerous wizards who succeeded in creating those powerful objects. The story of them being Death’s own Hallows seems to me the sort of legend that might have sprung up around such creations.

(DH, 602)

While it's not really Dumbledore and more Harry's own mind, I agree with him the Peverell brothers were probably no run-of-the-mill wizards, and I agree it's unlikely they've met Death, as I don't believe he exists.

Now, all the Hallows have a sentience to them beyond just any magical artifact. Even the wand is more sentient than any other wand, which are already quite sentient ("the wand chooses the wizard").

The wand of the first brother is a Hallow I already wrote about how it chooses its master. It is a wand intrinsically connected with death, having a core of Thestral hair. (I wonder if a core from a Thestral would agree to work for a wizard who hasn't seen death, but I digress)

This wand is actually the least impressive Hallow, in my opinion. Even though it said to be unbeatable:

Naturally, with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor

(DH, 352)

Its user is beaten quite often, that's how the wand changes owners, after all. This wand's tendency for even more sentience than other wands is what is particularly unique about it. How it chooses its master repeatedly, and sometimes even decides it prefers another over its current master, something unheard of for any other wand.

The Resurrection Stone has the supposed ability to pull a soul imprint from the afterlife:

“Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered.

(DH, 352)

Something that I just discussed above should be impossible. Once dead and in the afterlife, nothing comes back out. Harry uses it as well for the same purpose and describes them as being similar to Tom from the diary:

They were neither ghost nor truly flesh, he could see that. They resembled most closely the Riddle that had escaped from the diary so long ago, and he had been memory made nearly solid. less substantial than living bodies, but much more than ghosts, they moved toward him, and on each face, there was the same loving smile.

(DH, 589)

Because that's what the stone brings back, echoes of souls, but they aren't what Tom Riddle was in CoS.

“We are part of you,” said Sirius. “Invisible to anyone else.”

(DH, 590)

This line, made me believe the resurrection stone does something different than its name suggests and more similar to the lie Tom in the diary told Harry. They aren't souls, they're memories, echoes from within Harry himself. "Memory made solid"

Magic, in the world of Harry Potter, can't bring back someone who has moved on to the afterlife. It's a one-way ticket, as I've established before, once your soul moves on, that's it (if you try to resurrect someone immediately after they died and their soul hasn't yet moved on it's a different story). So I think, these shades are based on Harry's memories, and not actual souls brought back. It'll make more sense magically since his thoughts and memories are there, but the souls have gone on.

It also makes the tale of the second brother make more sense. He suffered because it wasn't really his wife that came back, but a shade based on his own memory. The tale said that she suffered, but I think it was Cadmus who suffered, not truly having her back. However, depending on how she died, her suffering might've been his memories of her that the stone resurrected, or the tale made it all up just like it made up Death.

The stone is just as picky about its master as the wand. It does not seem to have worked for anyone other than Cadmus Peverell and Harry himself. We don't hear of any Gaunts who used the stone, nor do we hear from Dumbledore he succeded in using it (I don't think it's actually Dumbledore in the conversation in King's Cross as I mentioned above). Regardless, I think the real Dumbledore probably did try to use it, and I will hazard a guess he failed. Since the stone didn't choose him.

The Cloak is unique in many ways. Lasting centuries, way longer than any invisibility cloak can, passing from parent to child for generations. It also does a better job of concealing you than another invisibility cloak, if, it still has its limits:

“...We are talking about a cloak that really and truly renders the wearer completely invisible, and endures eternally, giving constant and impenetrable concealment, no matter what spells are cast at it. How many cloaks have you ever seen like that, Miss Granger?”

(DH, 354)

The cloak is similar to the other Hallows in how picky it is regarding its master. The cloak wouldn't belong to anyone who just possesses it, it's not enough. It has to be passed willingly on the owner's deathbed, as they greet death as an old friend. It means that in the books, no one but Harry could be its owner.

All artifacts are powerful, but they aren't capable of anything that breaks the laws of nature (as the stone doesn't really resurrect), they are also sentient and picky, but it isn't something beyond the capacity of wizards. Why, we know of four wizards who made three sentient magical artifacts already — The Hogwarts founders.

The four founders enchanted the sorting hat together, but more relevant to the discussion of the Hallows are the Book of Admittance and the Quill of Acceptance.

At the precise moment that a child first exhibits signs of magic, the Quill, which is believed to have been taken from an Augurey, floats up out of its inkpot and attempts to inscribe the name of that child upon the pages of the Book (Augurey feathers are known to repel ink and the inkpot is empty; nobody has ever managed to analyse precisely what the silvery fluid flowing from the enchanted Quill is). Those few who have observed the process (several headmasters and headmistresses have enjoyed spending quiet hours in the Book and Quill’s tower, hoping to catch them in action) agree that the Quill might be judged more lenient than the Book. A mere whiff of magic suffices for the Quill. The Book, however, will often snap shut, refusing to be written upon until it receives sufficiently dramatic evidence of magical ability.

(from pottermore)

The idea of multiple sentient, powerful magical artifacts that need to agree is something wizards are capable of. And that, I think, is the secret to becoming the Master of Death — having all 3 Hallows pick you. Just like the book and quill need to agree a student should be admitted to Hogwarts.

Master of Death

Or more specifically what does that actually mean and why I think even if someone retrieved all 3 Hallows they wouldn't have become the Master of Death if their name isn't Harry James Potter.

This is definitely more in the headcanon territory, but the first scene that really made me think about it is the one in the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries. Because I think Harry and death always had a weird connection, it might've been around before the failed killing curse, and it was definitely around before Harry mastered all 3 Hallows.

So, why do I think Harry was always bound to be the Master of Death, and even if Dumbledore or Voldemort had all the Hallows it wouldn't have helped them?

There, are a few things that led me to this conclusion.

First, as I mentioned above, the cloak can not belong to anyone other than Harry in the books. It means that no one but Harry could master all of the Deathly Hallows, regardless of what they did.

Second, This first scene in the Death Chamber with the veil. I'll copy parts of it below and ask you to note, as you read, that Harry, Neville, and Luna are the only three who can see Thestrals and therefore should react more to the veil:

“Who’s there?” said Harry, jumping down onto the bench below. There was no answering voice, but the veil continued to flutter and sway. “Careful!” whispered Hermione. ... He had the strangest feeling that there was someone standing right behind the veil on the other side of the archway. ... “Let’s go,” called Hermione from halfway up the stone steps. “This isn’t right, Harry, come on, let’s go. . . .” She sounded scared, much more scared than she had in the room where the brains swam, yet Harry thought the archway had a kind of beauty about it, old though it was. The gently rippling veil intrigued him; he felt a very strong inclination to climb up on the dais and walk through it. “Harry, let’s go, okay?” said Hermione more forcefully. “Okay,” he said, but he did not move. He had just heard something. There were faint whispering, murmuring noises coming from the other side of the veil. “What are you saying?” he said very loudly, so that the words echoed all around the surrounding stone benches. “Nobody’s talking, Harry!” said Hermione, now moving over to him. “Someone’s whispering behind there,” he said, moving out of her reach and continuing to frown at the veil. “Is that you, Ron?” “I’m here, mate,” said Ron, appearing around the side of the archway. “Can’t anyone else hear it?” Harry demanded, for the whispering and murmuring was becoming louder; without really meaning to put it there, he found his foot was on the dais. “I can hear them too,” breathed Luna, joining them around the side of the archway and gazing at the swaying veil. “There are people in there!” .... “Sirius,” Harry repeated, still gazing, mesmerized, at the continuously swaying veil. “Yeah . . .” ... On the other side, Ginny and Neville were staring, apparently entranced, at the veil too.

(OotP, 773-775)

The interesting to note:

Luna, who can see Thestrals, also hears the whispering. I assume Neville does too.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny are mesmerized but unnerved by the veil. Ron and Hermione seem to fight this memorization in their fear for Harry as he nears the veil.

Harry is the only one who is drawn to the veil He is the only one that moved, the only one whose feet take him against his will to the dias with the veil.

Harry thinks of it as oddly beautiful.

He has an urge to pass through that no one else does. All of them are frozen in place.

Harry is so affected he needs to be reminded twice that he's there to save Sirius before he can draw himself away from the veil.

Third, later in the book, after Sirius fell through the veil, there's this part:

He had reached the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps. Sirius must be just behind the curtain, he, Harry, would pull him back out again. . . . But as he reached the ground and sprinted toward the dais, Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back. “There’s nothing you can do, Harry —” “Get him, save him, he’s only just gone through!” “It’s too late, Harry —” “We can still reach him —” Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go. . . . “There’s nothing you can do, Harry . . . nothing. . . . He’s gone.”

(OotP, 806)

Harry's instinct to go through the veil to get Sirius out is so odd. The way he thinks that he himself can pull him out, not anyone else, but he... I don't know, but, this scene is interesting. It almost makes me feel Harry could pull Sirius back out. He defied death already once and will defy it again in the 7th book, so why not? Why wouldn't he be able to pull someone back from beyond the veil if they fell through just now (the timing is relevant, I don't think Hary could pull, say, his parents out).

My headcanon is that in that very moment if Lupin let Harry pull Sirius out, it would've worked. Caused a pandemonium about the fact Harry can apparently resurrect the dead (even if it's not really what he did), but that it would've worked. (I actually really want to write a fic like this)

Fourth, throughout the 7th book, once Harry finds out about the Hallows, he can't let the thought go. He knows his cloak is one, he is convinced the stone is in the snitch Dumbledore left him, way before he opened it. He just has a sense about it, and a fixation on it that's almost instinct:

Dumbledore had left the sign of the Hallows for Hermione to decipher, and he had also, Harry remained convinced of it, left the Resurrection Stone hidden in the golden Snitch. Neither can live while the other survives. . . master of Death. . . Why didn’t Ron and Hermione understand? “‘The last enemy shall be destroyed is death,”’ Harry quoted calmly

(DH, 374-375)

So, these are my reasons why I believe Harry is the only character in the books that could or would be the MOD. It's just that he always was, in a way. The Hallows already chose him before he ever held any of them.

But what does it mean to be the Master of Death?

“Well, of course not,” said Xenophilius, maddeningly smug. “That is a children’s tale, told to amuse rather than to instruct. Those of us who understand these matters, however, recognize that the ancient story refers to three objects, or Hallows, which, if united, will make the possessor master of Death.” ... “When you say ‘master of Death’—” said Ron. “Master,” said Xenophilius, waving an airy hand. “Conqueror. Vanquisher. Whichever term you prefer.”

(DH, 353)

We don't really get much besides this. Along with what's written on James and Lily's grave:

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

(DH, 283)

Harry believes all phrases, along with the prophecy are connected and lead him to believe he should become the Master of Death:

Three objects, or Hallows, which, if united, will make the possessor master of Death. . . Master. . . Conqueror. . . Vanquisher. . . The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. . . . And he saw himself, possessor of the Hallows, facing Voldemort, whose Horcruxes were no match. . . Neither can live while the other survives. . . Was this the answer?

(DH, 369-370)

So what can the Master of Death do? Death isn't a personified deity, what is defeating or contouring death mean? Does it mean immortality?

I don't know if I'll say full immortality, I think the Master of Death can die the same way Ignotus Peverell did. I think Ignotus Peverell was the first Master of Death, in a way, he at least represented the concept:

And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life

(DH, 352)

He was death's equal, he could escape it and live a fulfilling life, before choosing to meet Death on his own terms. I think that's what it means, that Death won't find Harry until he is ready to move on, and when he finally chooses to move on, Death would greet him with open arms.

The crux of it is the choice. That death can't touch you until you choose to allow it. And those who become Masters of Death, would always eventually choose to greet death, as these are the type of people the 3 Hallows would choose. It's all about choices.

(For the record, yes, I think there could be more than one MOD, I think Ignotus was until his death, and then in the books, Harry is)

And considering how much emphasis is put on choices and intentions in the magic of this world, it seems only right to be so relevant here too.

Like with the Mirror or Erised, which only let someone who wanted to have the Philosopher's Stone but not use it, have it; the Hallows won't choose a master who wouldn't, eventually, be willing to accept death. Because mastering death, isn't only not dying, it's understanding it, and accepting it. Both the deaths of others and eventually your own.

Also, as I mentioned above, I headcanon that Harry could pull Sirius out the moment he fell in through the veil. I don't think anyone but Harry could. I believe, as a Master of Death, Harry is the only wizard (well, being) that can go into the afterlife, walk past the veil, and come back out. A Master of Death is the only one who the afterlife isn't a one-way ticket for.

(Although, I think it's possible that if you wear the invisibility cloak you might be able to pass into the veil and come out even without being the MOD, but, I wouldn't bet on it)

Summary of my thoughts

The afterlife exists in the Wizarding World and nothing that passes beyond the veil can return. It's a one-way ticket.

The scene in Deathly Hallows with Dumbledore in King's Cross station limbo didn't actually happen.

Death, as a deity of sorts most likely doesn't exist.

The Peverell brothers were powerful wizards who made the Deathly Hallows and perhaps the veil too.

The Resurrection stone can't bring a soul back from beyond the veil so it does the next best thing — reviving an illusion of a memory.

All 3 Deathly Hallows are very sentient magical artifacts like the sorting hat. Each of them is very picky when choosing its own master.

When all 3 Hallows choose the same master, this person is the Master of Death.

Being the Master of Death means the MOD won't die until the time of their choice. But the MOD will always choose to die eventually because that's the kind of person the Hallows would pick.

There can, over time, be more than one MOD (not at the same time though). And it's possible Ignotus Peverell was one, in a way.

The MOD might be the only person who can go into the veil and come back out.

The invisibility cloak might also allow you to make a trip into the veil and then back out.

[eomayas]

all the rumors are true • bbh

pairing: idol!baekhyun x f!idol!reader

genre: fluff & angst

synopsis: your secret relationship with baekhyun getting revealed, and what comes after.

warnings: none!

a/n: very self indulgent lmao i had this thought a few days ago and needed to get it out! the ending is a bit choppy i ran out of thoughts. heavily unedited and not proof read 🫣

“yes, i take care of all of them,” you laugh, nodding at the radio show hosts question about if it’s hard being a leader to a group of 4, including yourself. “especially our youngest.” you say, glancing over at sunny, the baby of your group.

“what’s the age difference between you and her?” the host asks.

“six years,” you say, making the host gasp.

“ah, so you’re 28… that means she was 16 when you debuted?” the host looks between you and sunny, both of you nodding. “wow, so you probably have had no time for dating since even before debut!”

you laugh, though it’s 90% true, which sucks. “yes, because she was so young when we were trainees—we all were—i was always with them to make sure they stayed out of trouble and weren’t around strange people,” you say, your eyes sliding over all of your members. “so, no, there hasn’t been a lot of time to date. but i’m not mad at that because i was taking care of my babies.” everyone chuckles at the last bit and mingwa puts her head on your shoulder.

“y/n needs somebody to take care of her!” heejin, the second to youngest member shouts. you smile and shake your head at her words, though they’re unbelievably true. if only the public knew that you were, though. that instead of laying your head on a soft pillow every night, you lied down on a hard chest and let strong arms hold you tight, while soft kisses on the top of your head lulled you to sleep.

“girl, i’m your candy,” sunny sings quietly. you don’t cut your eyes at her immediately, but the panic bubbles in your chest. nobody mentions her singing, or sings along, but sunny and mingwa share a quick look that freaks you out, makes you paranoid that in a few hours when the video recording of this session is posted, speculations will start.

you glance at sunny, hoping to catch her eye, but she’s engrossed in what the host is talking about. you can barely hear above your heartbeat in your ears, the blood rushing through so quickly it’s starting to give you a headache. you try to discreetly regulate your breathing, trying to remember those videos talking about square breathing that you found online. nobody seems to notice, except mingwa who taps your forearm and looks at you with concern that you brush off.

you manage to make it through the rest of the interview as normal as possible. you start talking a lot less, letting your members share more about themselves and the group, and nobody except for mingwa clocks that you were mentally somewhere else.

saying your goodbyes, the four of you get up and shuffle out of the radio station and into the outside world where dozens of cameras await. the shutters fly at rapid pace, and the flash on some of them are nearly blinding, but you and your group smile and pose, despite the chaos happening.

shuffling into the car, you let the three others get inside first. you take the last seat in the sprinter van and buckle yourself in, resting your head against the headrest. “y/n, are you alright?” mingwa asks, concern clear and evident in her voice. you let out a breath and sit up, turning around to look at sunny.

“why did you start singing ‘candy’, soojin?” you ask, using her full name. she looks at you with wide eyes at her government being called and holds her hands up in surrender. “do you know what people are going to say?”

“sorry, mom,” she shoots back, giving you an incredulous look. “all they’re going to say is that i’m acting exactly like how the youngest person is supposed to be acting—interrupting you and singing over everybody. nobody is going to say anything about you and baekhyun.” you press your lips together, stumped because she’s most likely right, even though you have an inkling in the back of your brain that somebody is going to take notice, and make something out if it.

“well, you don’t really want people thinking you go around interrupting everybody,” you chastise. sunny rolls her eyes at you and sighs dramatically.

“we are quite literally the perfect group—i don’t know why you are so worried about our image all the time,” she says. you decide that the conversation is over, and sit facing forward again. sunny doesn’t understand that everything, at the end of the day, falls on you. people look at you like you birthed these girls and raised them up yourself. if one of them screw up, it falls on the entire group but rests on your shoulders to clean up. your image is so important to uphold, because there has only ever been one scandal to your groups name at the beginning of your careers that you did everything possible to stop the public from shaming you and the girls. it’s not easy to do that.

the ride is silent, save for their nails tapping against their phone screens. you sit with your eyes closed and your head leaned back, ready to dive into bed and maybe call baekhyun. maybe.

“would it really be that bad if everybody knew about you and baekhyun?” sunny asks, cutting into the silence. you open your eyes, but don’t turn around. the hair on your arms stands up at his name being mentioned so loudly, somewhere that isn’t the safety of your dorms.

“yes,” you reply. you think about the uproar it would cause, and what it would do to your career. his would be fine, of course, because the dismissal is never the same for men as it is for women. your group would probably have to disband, or you’d have to leave. it would look terrible, especially since you are the leader, if this was public news. “it would be awful, sunny. i cant lose my career over a man.” and while a nasty pang of guilt rips through your chest, it’s the truth.

“but… you told me you think that you love him. that’s not enough?” when she says these words, it’s like she’s 16 again, asking you why the world was mad at your group for a rumor about heejin. her voice is small, naive almost, and it reminds you how far apart you two really are.

you can’t help that your eyes start to water. “soojin, can we talk about this later?” you ask, blinking back the tears. you swallow thickly and pull your headphones out of your pocket, turning up your music loudly to block out any thoughts of you and baekhyun, and the public finding out.

getting back to the dorms, you head straight for your room. you close the door behind you and pull out your headphones and sigh, your head pounding. flopping onto the bed, you bury your face in the pillows and close your eyes.

you’re disrupted by a knock only moments later, and you let out a breath before telling whoever it is to come in. “y/n?” sunny’s voice calls from the doorway.

“yeah?” you roll over and sit up on your elbows to look at her. she gives you a sheepish smile and comes over to your bed, crawling in bed next to you like she used when you guys were trainees and she kissed her family.

scooting over, you make space for her to rest her head on your shoulder, your arm wrapping around her. “sorry for earlier. i guess i’m just trying to see the positive side to it,” sunny says.

“it’s fine,” you sigh. “i’m just super paranoid.”

“is baekhyun?” she asks.

you shake your head above her. it’s amazing to you that he seems to have no qualms or fears about your relationship becoming public. he’s fine with it being a secret or being news, and it makes you feel like shit, like it looks like you’re afraid of being seen with him. though it’s far from that. “no, and i guess that’s what makes me more stressed out. because he’s too chill about it, and doesn’t seem to be worried.”

“he’s old,” sunny snorts and you chuckle. there’s only four years between you and him, so she’s technically calling you old too, but you don’t say anything. “are you gonna tell him you love him?” she asks after a beat of silence. you still against her and she lifts her head to look at you.

it’s a sensitive subject—you and baekhyun haven’t said it yet. you won’t say it, because you’re afraid it’ll open a dam of bad things starting to happen. like once it’s out in the open, the worst possible thing could happen to your relationship. “maybe. i don’t know. probably not,” you ramble.

sunny gives you a sad look and squeezes you into a hug. she doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, but enough passes between the two of you. i’m here for you, she says. i know, you say back.

baekhyuns hands are on your ribs, holding you firmly and pressing you flush against the side of his car as he takes you into a nice, soft kiss. your arms snake around his neck, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair at his neck.

his lips move slowly against yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease. your chest burns with adoration and want, and him tugging you closer to him only makes you throb. pulling away, his mouth chases yours and you let him kiss you again, this time letting him tilt your head back so you’re practically lying against the car.

it’s risky to be out in the open like this, but the parking garage is secluded and for residents of his apartment only. you would see and hear anybody coming through, but so far you haven’t in the last seven minutes.

you pull away from him again, and stop his advances by gently pressing your fingers to his lips. “baekhyun,” you say softly. he kisses your fingertips and then your cheek.

“yes?” he says, looking into your eyes with an intensity that makes your knees weak, so much so that you rest your weight against the car.

“can we go inside?” you ask, your fingers dancing on his cheek. he nods and kisses your palm before grabbing it and taking you to the elevators. baekhyun wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, kissing your temple for a long time, all the way until the doors open, and then pulling you down the hallway to his apartment.

he helps you out of your coat and hangs it up. “what do you want to eat?” he asks as you step out of your shoes.

“bold of you to assume i’m hungry,” you tease, but you’re always hungry around him, and you are hungry right now. baekhyun rolls his eyes at you and repeats his question. “i don’t know. chicken? ramen? rice? whatever you want.” you say, kissing his lips. he holds you close for a beat before letting you go so he can get something started for the two of you.

you bound to the living room and sprawl out on his large couch, turning the tv onto one of the many shows you two have started watching together. you get comfortable and pull a blanket over you, snuggling into the cushions while he busies himself with the task of making dinner.

baekhyun comes into the living room with two bowls of food a few minutes later. you sit up and thank him as you accept the dish, crossing your legs and resting the bowl in your lap. “what did i miss?” he asks, and you catch him up on the show in between bites.

you two eat in a close and comfortable silence. he’d probably have his arm around you if it wasn’t uncomfortable while you two were eating. the close proximity is enough though, your knees touching and his right arm lightly bumping into your left.

you set your bowl on the table, ready to get up to get a drink but baekhyun gets up quicker than you, already knowing what you want. he goes into the kitchen and comes back with two glasses of water. it feels like the world is slipping beneath your feet, and you could cry because of him.

this is the taking care of that heejin said you needed. you finally have it—he’s always like this with you, feeding you, making sure you’re well rested and fed and just okay. he takes whatever worries you have and throws them on his back and just lets you be.

after dinner, you and baekhyun retreat to his bedroom. you lie on his bare chest, a hand resting on his stomach and your ear against his heart. baekhyun mindlessy plays with your hair, his fingers digging into your scalp soothingly. your eyes can’t help but flutter close—there’s no point in trying to fight sleep. you’ll wake up with him tomorrow.

the speculations didn’t start the next day. no, everybody thought it was so cute and funny that sunny blurts out random things while her older members are talking. there were compilations made from your groups content; interviews, your group vlogs, and more. it was funny, honestly, that they adored her disruptiveness.

the speculations started four days later. and when the news broke, the internet nearly stopped working because there were pictures and videos. so many pictures and videos, that it felt like somebody may have been stalking you. there were pictures of you and baekhyun kissing against his car, of you two in his car, of you two getting out of his car, of you two going for a late night walk near the han river.

and then there were videos—albeit, mostly can made—that served as proof that you two really are dating. there’s the longing looks shared at award shows, zoomed in videos of you two standing next to each other on stages, hands brushing. the other videos are just more reasons to believe that you two are dating; heejin saying you need to be taken care of, and then clips of baekhyun taking care of his own members. videos of you talking about your ideal type, and clips proving that you must have been referring to baekhyun, or jaír got really lucky that you found him.

it’s overwhelming.

when the pictures surfaced, you and mingwa were in the practice room dancing to your debut songs. the alert popped up on your phones at the same time, but mingwa grabbed hers first. you heard her gasp and ran over, thinking she might’ve twisted her ankle, but instead were met with her guilty eyes and her perfectly fine ankle.

you didn’t know what to do when you saw the photos. your heart stopped and your felt sick. your head started pounding, and it felt like a rug was being pulled from underneath your feet. you didn’t know what to do, so you started crying, falling to the floor in a heap. you weren’t sobbing, but your were audibly crying, and mingwa wasn’t sure what to do. you managed to get yourself together, and excused yourself to your room, avoiding any staff members on your way.

and now you’re on the phone with baekhyun, trying not to burst into tears as he keeps telling you everything will be ok. “baekhyun, this was such a bad idea!” you cry, pressing your forehead into your hand.

“what was? dating me?” he asks, slight offense in his voice.

“yes!” you shout, but you don’t even believe yourself. “w-we shouldn’t have gotten involved.” you’re adding fuel to the fire, hoping he’ll just break up with you so you can say those photos aren’t real, and that you’re not longer dating so everybody can leave you alone.

“you don’t mean that,” baekhyun says, his voice soft on the other line. it makes you feel like shit. “do you?”

you shake your head, though he can’t see you. “no,” you say meekly. “but we- y/n, you knew this could happen even before we started dating.” he interrupts, shutting you up. you press your mouth into a thin line. “don’t try to push me away now, y/n.” the overuse of your first name makes you feel like you’re being scolded by an elder.

“okay, i’m sorry,” you say, sighing. baekhyun parrots you and you press your body into your mattress. now would be the ideal time to tell him you love him, but it feels like it would be a poor bandaid to apologizing for saying that you should have never agreed to date him. “i don’t know what to do.” you mumble.

“let our companies handle it. you just get some sleep,” he says. you chew on your bottom lip, wishing that he was here with you.

“okay. goodnight, baekhyun,” you say. i love you, you want to add.

“goodnight, y/n.”

when you wake the next morning, your group, managers, and baekhyuns team are all in the dorm lounge. you freeze when you see him, ready to jump out of the nearest window because you know exactly what is about to happen. “we need to release a statement,” your manager says, beckoning you over to everybody.

gingerly, you walk over to your girls, sitting next to heejin at the end of the sofa, the furthest you can get away from your boyfriend. “so, i assume it’s true? the rumors about you dating? you can say no, but i’ve seen the pictures,” baekhyuns manager says, looking over at you. you nod, and when everyone keeps staring at you, you pipe up and say “yes”, your voice hoarse.

“great. how long has it been?”

“seven months,” baekhyun says, his eyes flicking to you. heejin gasps beside you, grabbing everybody’s attention.

“oh, sorry!” she says, waving everybody off. “liar!” she whispers. you told her that it’s only been four months.

both of your guys’ managers read from what looks like a checklist of things, asking you questions and scribbling down answers so they can formulate each of your statements.

“are you happy?” your manager asks, not looking up from the sheet. it’s an easy questions, and you both answer ‘yes’ with ease. “are you in love?” the question lodges your heart in your throat, and the room gets eerily silent, so silent that you could hear a pin drop in the next room.

you don’t know what to say. you don’t want to lie, and look terrible, but you don’t want to tell the truth and further complicate your relationship.

you glance over at bakehyun, and find him already looking at you. you know what you’re going to say the moment your eyes meet, and you feel your stomach flip on it’s side. your heart melts like goo in your chest as you say, “yes”, admitting after many long months the one thing that’s been clawing at you in the back of your mind.

your manager scribbles down your answer and turns to baekhyun. “baekhyun?” he asks. his eyes never leave yours, and it feels like you’re the only two people in the room, despite the fact that there’s about 10 feet of distance between you two.

“of course,” he says it so sincerely that you drop your gaze to your lap, your face turning red and a smile overtaking your lips. your group members giggle and elbow you in your side, equally as happy to hear the news.

you feel over the moon, and your past paranoia is put away and shoved into a box that you choose to ignore for a moment. both of your teams curate statements, and they’re sent out less than an hour later. you and baekhyun take the rest of the day for yourselves, driving out far to the beach and hanging there all day until it gets dark, and your teeth start clattering because of the weather. and when you get in the car, he kisses you and you quite literally feel the love has for you, and your brain goes fuzzy to the point where all you can remember is his name, everything else being put to shame.

the responses you get to your relationship are much more positive than you expect, and of course there are negative comments, but not nearly as many as there are of the positive comments. people cnat help but gush at how you found your person, and are finally getting to get taken care of.

but, of course, cameras are on you more heavily than in the past. and now, when you go on variety shows solo, they want to know about your personal life before knowing about the group. you learn to get used to it, giving way to basically nothing, and sometimes sharing more than people expect, when you want to.

like, when you go on a variety show alone with a bunch of other idols, the same show baekhyun had been on in the past, they bring up an interview moment where baekhyun says that you’re the better dresser of the two of you. you’re asked the same question, and you answer baekhyun, and follow up with admitting that you’re wearing his clothes at that very moment. that makes the internet go crazy, searching high and low for pictures of baekhyun wearing the same item, comparing how it’s massive on you but fits him snugly.

or, when you attend the end of the year award shows and exo performs, the camera is on your group more often than you’d like to admit. there are fancams dedicated to your reaction of his groups performances, everybody focused on how you react to baekhyun specifically. of course, the same thing happens to him with you, and he’s a lot more shameless about his support of you.

you group responds well to your now public relationship. you’re able to get all five of you together more often, and they look at him like a bigger brother. sunny often tags along on your dates and asks about baekhyun and genuinely treats him like her uncle. she makes a lot of jokes about the two of you, mainly on camera. like, when you’re filming content for you groups vlog, she asks how baekhyun asked you out, and then sings the bridge of ‘blooming days’ by CBX, and does the dance too. the internet eats that up, constantly sharing the clip because it truly was funny.

despite the public news of your relationship, though, you and baekhyun manage to keep it private. besides what you choose to share, you can easily dodge questions about your private lives and keep the mystery alive. it does help your relationship now that more people know—there’s no threat of getting caught, or the constant feeling of breaking the rules. it’s easier now, and better than ever.

[goldfades]

★ THE HARD DECISIONS LEAD TO THE GREATEST REWARDS ─── prologue

─ pairing | paige bueckers x fem!reader

─ word count | 2.4k words

─ warnings | unedited, some angst, coach misunderstandings and the feeling of being alienated, transfer-talk, nothing else? little r and p content but this is just the foundation, there will be a lot more coming!

─ ev's notes | as you guys know (OBVIOUSLY) my inbox is open for thoughts on this series and i'd love to know what you think so far, and maybe ideas for future chapters or even the plot itself since i don't have everything figured out just yet. anyways, hope you enjoy this prologue! ily all! mwah mwah

⇨ missing out on updates? check out the masterlist for my series!

May 2022

In a surprising turn of events, collegiate basketball powerhouse UConn has just secured a major coup with the addition of Y/N L/N to their roster. Y/N, once hailed as one of the brightest prospects in the 2021 recruiting class, has announced her decision to transfer from Arizona to UConn.

The news of Y/N's transfer from Arizona to UConn has sent shockwaves through the community, sparking speculation and excitement about the impact she will have on her new team. The timing of Y/N's decision, coming just weeks after the Wildcat's loss to UConn in the NCAA tournament, has led some to speculate about the impact of that defeat on her choice to transfer.

At UConn, Y/N will join a storied basketball program led by legendary coach Geno Auriemma. The Huskies, known for their tradition of excellence and strong team culture, offer Y/N the opportunity for a fresh start and a chance to rediscover her passion for the game.

"We're thrilled to welcome Y/N to the UConn family," says head coach Geno Auriemma. "She's a dynamic player with a bright future ahead of her, and we can't wait to see what she brings to the team."

──

March 2022

The buzzer echoed throughout the court and the UConn girls cheered loudly as they ran up to their teammates on the bench. You felt a lump form in your throat as you swallowed back the tears, your emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

Slumping onto the bench, you buried your face in your hands, the sting of tears threatening to overwhelm you. It wasn't just about the loss, though that certainly stung ─ it was the culmination of months of frustration, of feeling like you were fighting an uphill battle with no end in sight.

You had come to the U of A with high hopes and big dreams, but somewhere along the way, it had all started to unravel. Your coach, once a source of inspiration, now felt like an obstacle standing in the way of your growth. And the teammates, once friends and supposed allies, now seemed more like strangers, each focused solely on their own ambitions.

Inside the locker room, the atmosphere was heavy. Players sat in silence, their faces reflecting a mixture of disappointment and frustration. Coach Johnson's voice cut through the silence, his words measured and deliberate as he addressed the team.

"Look, we gave it our all out there," he began, his tone firm. "But sometimes, the game just doesn't go our way. That's fine, there's always next year and we'll come back strong. Practice is still on for tomorrow morning, 5am to 9am"

Coach Johnson's announcement of another early morning practice felt like a punch to the gut. It was a reminder of everything that had gone wrong, of the sacrifices you had made in pursuit of a dream that no longer felt like your own.

As your teammates exchanged weary glances, you felt a surge of frustration rising within you. Was this all there was to it? Endless hours of practice, sacrifices made in pursuit of a goal that felt increasingly out of reach?

As the team dispersed, heading back to their dorms and apartments, you lingered in the locker room, the weight of the decision you had been wrestling with growing heavier with each passing moment. It wasn't just about one tough loss or a grueling practice schedule ─ it was about reclaiming your sense of purpose, your love for the game that had once been your escape.

"Fuck," you grumbled as you felt the tears fall. You sniffled as you got up from the bench, reaching for your backpack as you began walking out of the locker-room.

You heard the court doors open and some laughter, you held your breath as you ignored the annoyance that filled your stomach. You focused on your feet as you walked, not really watching where you were heading until─you collided with someone, jolting you out of your reverie.

"Oh shit, my bad," the blonde's voice echoed as she glanced at her teammates, giving you a thin lipped smile as she recognized you from the game. She was wearing a UConn jersey as she steadied you with a hand on your shoulder. "Sorry,"

You nodded quickly, wiping your eyes and trying to compose yourself. "You're good," you muttered, avoiding her gaze.

The blonde hesitated for a moment before offering a genuine smile. "Hey, you're a good player. We were all impressed out there. Keep your head up."

You managed a small smile in return. "Thanks."

As she rejoined her teammates and they disappeared down the hallway, you felt a strange mixture of emotions ─ regret for the loss, but also a flicker of hope from her unexpected kindness.

──

"What are you suggesting?" You asked as you met Coach Lindsay's gaze, your expression confused as she sighed ─ you knew what she was suggesting. "A transfer?"

Lindsay nodded, her expression somber. "I hate to say it, Y/N, but I think it might be the best option for you," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "It's clear that things haven't been working out here at Arizona. The coach, the team dynamic and now the whole Alyssa thing... it's all been weighing you down."

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. The idea of transferring had been lingering in the back of your mind for weeks now, but hearing it spoken aloud made it feel all too real.

"I just don't know if I can do it," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've put so much into this program. Leaving feels like admitting defeat."

Lindsay reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, her touch reassuring. "It's not about admitting defeat, Y/N. It's about taking control of your own happiness. You deserve to be somewhere where you can thrive, where you can be supported and valued for who you are."

Her words struck a chord deep within you. For too long, you had allowed yourself to be consumed by the expectations of others, sacrificing your own well-being in pursuit of a dream that no longer felt attainable.

Lindsay hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I'm not supposed to say anything but I've heard talk about UConn being interested in you. They've got a great program, and Coach Geno is one of the best. All you have to do is agree and just trust in the process, babe."

"UConn?" you repeated, the word feeling foreign yet oddly enticing on your tongue.

Lindsay nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Yeah. I mean, nothing's set in stone, but it could be worth exploring. Just think about it, Y/N. You will get drafted to the WNBA if you are at a powerhouse like UConn, especially with your talent."

You couldn't believe it ─ your own assistant coach was telling you to transfer. Was your situation at Arizona truly as bad as Lindsay seemed to suggest? You glanced around the locker room, the familiar sights and sounds suddenly feeling suffocating. Had it really come to this? Were things truly as toxic as they seemed, or were you just overreacting?

As you thought about her words, memories of the past few months flooded your mind ─ the grueling practices, the weird relationships (if you could even call them that) with teammates, the constant pressure to perform. Each moment felt like a weight dragging you down, sapping away your passion and drive.

And yet, amidst the uncertainty, there was a glimmer of hope. The possibility of a fresh start at UConn, of rediscovering your love for the game and reaching your full potential felt right.

Lindsay's voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. "I know it's a lot to take in, Y/N. But sometimes, the hardest decisions lead to the greatest rewards. Just trust in yourself and follow your heart."

"Maybe you're right," you admitted, the words feeling like a weight lifted from your shoulders. "Maybe it's time for a change."

Lindsay smiled, her eyes shining with pride. "I'm proud of you, Y/N. It takes courage to admit when something isn't working and to take steps to change it. Whatever you decide, just know that I'll be here to support you every step of the way."

🚨 ESPN | BREAKING: Top Prospect Y/N L/N Commits to UConn Transfer 🚨 Y/N L/N, widely regarded as one of the most promising players in the 2021 recruiting class, joins UConn with high expectations. With UConn's storied basketball program and renowned head coach Geno Auriemma at the helm, Y/N's transfer promises to shake up the landscape of women's college basketball.

You glanced down at the notification on your phone, a nervous knot forming in the pit of your stomach. The news of your transfer had spread like wildfire, and now, seeing it plastered across the screen of your phone, it felt all too real.

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself of the reasons behind your decision to transfer. The toxic atmosphere at Arizona, the strained relationships with teammates, the relentless pressure from coaches ─ it had all taken its toll, slowly suffocating your love for the game.

But now, with the opportunity to join UConn, you felt a flicker of hope reignite within you. Here was a chance for a fresh start, a chance to rediscover your passion for basketball and thrive in an environment where your talents would be appreciated and nurtured.

──

"Okay, listen up!" Coach Geno's voice echoed throughout the room, earning the attention of the girls on the team. You stood by the shorter man and somehow, you still felt small underneath his towering presence.

"As you all know," Coach Geno continued, his eyes scanning the faces of each player, "we've got a new addition to the team. Y/N, I want you to know that you're not just joining a team here at UConn ─ you're joining a family. We look out for each other, we support each other, and we push each other to be the best we can be."

"You guys all already know who she is, I know you did your research." His lips quirked up into a small smile as the girls exchanged amused glances within the team. A ripple of laughter spread through the room at his remark, breaking the tension and easing the nerves that had been swirling in your stomach.

"As for you, Y/N," Coach Geno continued, turning his attention back to you, "I want you to know that we're thrilled to have you here. Your talent speaks for itself, but what's even more important is your commitment to the team and your willingness to work hard."

As Coach Geno's words sank in, you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with a hint of nervousness. Being welcomed into the UConn family by none other than Coach Geno himself was an honor beyond words.

With Coach Geno's words echoing in your mind, you joined your teammates in a huddle, ready to embark on this new chapter of your life. And as the team broke apart with a chant, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation for the season ahead.

──

"And uh, don't eat Azzi's protein bars. She gets angry when she doesn't get her gainz," Paige remarked as Azzi sent her a glare. Everyone at the table giggled at that as you nodded, glancing toward Azzi.

Azzi sighed. "I think that's like common courtesy, P. Y/N knows better than that,"

"Of course, Azzi. I'll make sure to steer clear of your protein bars," you replied with a playful grin, earning a relieved smile from Azzi in return.

"What else..." Paige hummed as she ate chewed on her food, glancing around the table.

"Oh wait, I got one. If Coach tells you to run suicides, just do them without complaining," Aaliyah chimed in, her tone teasing but with a hint of seriousness.

"And make sure you hydrate," Nika added with a smirk, raising her water bottle in emphasis. "Especially during those conditioning drills Coach loves to throw at us."

As laughter erupted around the table, you couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie and belonging among your new teammates. "Of course, of course."

"And don't come to practice hungover, Coach will notice and he'll force everyone to run laps," Paige added as she shivered, earning a laugh from Aubrey. "Better for everyone if you just skip,"

"I think you need that advice more than anyone, Paige," Aubrey added as she nudged Paige playfully, eliciting more laughter from the group.

Paige mock-glared at Aubrey before joining in the laughter herself. "Hey, I've learned my lesson the hard way. Trust me, nobody wants to run laps hungover. I'm tryna make sure she doesn't get too carried away, she's from U of A, that's like party central."

You shrugged, a smile playing on your lips. "She's not wrong, if there's one thing I'll miss it'll be the insane parties at Kappa Sigma."

"Ooh, so you're a frat girly?" Aaliyah teased, raising an eyebrow playfully as she leaned in with interest.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Not exactly. Frat boys aren't really my thing," you smiled as you looked down at your plate. "Neither are guys, really."

Paige hummed in response as she smirked, raising her cup in a mock toast as Aaliyah's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but her expression quickly softened into understanding. "Ah, got it. Well, good thing UConn has plenty of other things to offer besides frat parties."

"Yeah, like winning championships," Nika chimed in with a grin, nudging you playfully. "And having the best teammates in the world," she continued, earning a chorus of laughs and "awws".

"Look at Nika getting all sappy," Paige mocked as Nika sent her a glare, earning another round of laughter from the table.

Nika rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the smile tugging at her lips. "Okay, shut up Paige,"

"No, you first."

"I asked first, Paige."

"I don't care, shut up."

"No, you-"

"Okay, that's enough." Azzi sent you a thin-lipped smile as you laughed, enjoying the playful banter between Paige and Nika.

You felt yourself settle into the team more and more with each passing moment, the laughter and camaraderie of your teammates easing any lingering nerves or doubts. As you listened to their stories and shared your own, you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging wash over you.

These were your teammates, your friends, your family away from home. And as you laughed and joked with them, you knew that you had found a place where you truly belonged.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[clarkeyhill]

☁️Plus one | George Clarke

[ You were George's plus one for his sister's wedding, you were good friends and worked on multiple brand deals with him. He couldn't think of anyone better to ask than you, you knew him inside and out and his family took to you very well, you notice how his energy shifted towards you throughout, more than a friend would you could say]

The theme was Smart casual, nothing too dressy but nothing too dull. You opted for a baby blue formal dress, one that wasn't too revealing but hugged you in the good places. You wore your hair in a messy curled bun as you applied light makeup. You were getting picked up soon to be ready for the wedding at 12. You felt nervous but not sure why, you'd met them lots of times but not the whole family. What if they think you're dating? The thoughts rush through your mind as you slip on some low heeled heels, a pair that wouldn't hurt your feet from all the dancing. You place some dangly earrings in as your phone buzzes

G: "I'm here are you ready?"

You: "yeah, on my way down now"

You grab your matching clutch bag and head to the lift, you make you way out of the flat to see a smart looking George in a beigey white tee, smart trousers and a big grin "you scrub up well" he says greeting you with a hug "not too bad yourself clarkey" you say with a soft smile, you get into the car as you make your way to the venue. You decide to address the elephant in the room "they don't think we're dating do they?" You ask he chuckles at it "no, don't worry" he says as a sigh of relief washes over you, although you wouldn't mind the speculation. You pull up after a 20 minute drive as you stomach turns, George gets out the car and walks round to your door to help you out "m'lady" he jokes with a fake curtsy "you're such a gentleman Mr Clarke" you snigger as you take his hand, you notice a few people watching you with beady eyes as you slide out the car, patting down your dress. He offers you his arm for you to link into for the walk up the cobbled pavement, knowing you could get unsteady with your heels; you interlock your arm and make you way up to greet his mum and family.

Butterflies form as you get to the top of the path as his mums smiles down at you "oh she looks gorgeous" you say to George "she's not the only one" he says, looking at you, catching you off guard. You scuttle over to his mum as you embrace her in a hug "ooo we've missed you" she says squeezing you tight "aw me too it's nice to see you again, you look lovely" you say to her "so do you! I love the colour" she says pulling away to have a closer look, George stands there rubbing his neck "come here geo" she says to him as he moves over with arms open, she whispers something in his ear which you don't quite catch. You then walk in to go get seated. The ceremony finishes as George gets up for his speech, you see his nerves kick in as his face drips white "you've got this, don't worry" you say pacing a hand on his thigh for reassurance; his mum spots this and smiles towards you "I don't know why you two just don't get together" she says with a soft smile as you laugh it off.

The after party draws in as his sister has her first dance, you sit in awe of the celebration as George sits smiling ear to ear "she looks so happy and content" you say to him, as he wipes a tear from his eye "she does, I'm so happy for her" he says with a sniffle as you smile back at him; the night continues and the free bar hits you a tiny bit, you and George were both tipsy at this point as George's mum and sister invite you for a dance. You slide up as you shuffle across, holding hands with them both as you dance; his sister glances at George to see him staring at you with so much love "y/n, my brothers in love with you" she says, you turn to her confused "what? How do you know?" You say back, "just look at him" she says as you turn your head and there he was, looking at you like he'd just won the lottery, hearts in his eyes as he watched you dance with his family, you slotted into his world so perfectly it was undeniable. You smile at his sister as you walk over to him "hey can we talk?" You say holding your hand out "yeah sure, is everything okay" you nod as you lead him out into the receptions garden. You perch yourself against the brickwork as you look at him "I can't help but think you invited me here for a reason" you say, hoping his sister was right; "what do you mean?" He says acting oblivious "the way you've looked at me, the comments about how I look, it just I don't know, feels like this was more of a test to see if I slotted into your world" you say with a slight smile, he sighs as he cups your hands "I'm glad you picked up on it, I don't know how much longer I could've hid it" he says with a nervous look "it's true, I did invite you here for more of a reason than just a plus one, I wanted to see for myself how my two worlds could work in the same room and they just match so effortlessly" he says with a smile "I like you, a lot y/n and todays opened a door for me to see that I want to pursue something with you, that's if you want-" you interrupt him with a kiss, something so passionate as if you both had wanted it for a while, you interlock your lips for a while as his hands snake round you waist, you both pull away and look at each other under the moonlight "of course I do George, I've never wanted anything more" you say with a sweet smile. You hear a wave of applause coming from the inside as you turn to the door, everyone was looking at you as you plant your foreheads into each others, giggling to yourself "I guess we don't need to worry about what they're going to say about the idea of us" he says laughing with you; "I guess not" you say, planting another kiss onto his lips, something so innocent form the beginning turning into a sea of love, a weight was lifted of both of your shoulders as you walk back into the venue "it's about bloody time!" His mum exclaims hugging you both as you laugh, ending the night on a special moment, you were excited to see the future of you both develop from today onwards.

-

[lu-is-not-ok]

Sorry I'm actually obsessed with the Daiyu-Baoyu theory and I'm rotating it in my head forever. I'm not sure if I'm actually onto anything here but when thinking about it I recalled this CG from the TGS trailer

and I remember thinking about how odd this picture seems because it's so Un-Hong Lu-like. Because from what we've seen, Hong Lu has never even gotten close to being this angry. And yet, they showed us this picture in a trailer before the game even released. It's obviously something they wanted us to see and keep in mind. But so far, there doesn't seem to be anything we can think of that can draw this kind of reaction out of Hong Lu, who seems to just redirect or avoid upsetting topics altogether.

When reading your theory, I remembered this CG and noticed that he's facing the right, meaning we can't see his jade eye. This isn't the first time they've obscured something important from us in the trailer (e.g., Don Quixote's eyes), so it's not a stretch to say they're intentionally hiding his eye. This suggests that something might be up with it in this scene that we aren't supposed to know yet, like, for example, being removed.

If we assume that Baoyu's memories are in his eye, which has been put in Daiyu's body, as well as Kurokumo Hong Lu's attitude being the most Daiyu-like, then it would explain this CG a lot better, because it's not really Hong Lu or Baoyu. It's Daiyu.

Sorry for the very long ask, I got excited. Again, I'm really just rambling and speculating. What I do know is that I'm really enjoying this theory, and thinking about writing a fanfic with the premise because it is so fascinating to me!

Funny you bring up that CG in particular, since the subject of it has come up on this blog before! That being said, I unfortunately can't find the exact post where I talked about it, so I might as well do so again - especially since we now also have more insight on Hong Lu as a characer.

The full CG that cut-in comes from can be seen in the Story Demo video for the Alpha Version of Limbus, as a preview CG for the 1-5 node on the very early version of Canto 1's Story Node map.

Notably, this CG does not appear in any Cutscene/Story Demo videos post the TGS Teaser, meaning the CG must have been scrapped at some point between that Alpha Version demo and the post TGS Teaser demo. Whether it was scrapped after it was used for the Teaser, meaning it was still part of the story at the time, or whether it was scrapped before but PJM decided something about that particular image of Hong Lu was important enough to the Teaser to include it anyway, is something I don't think we'll ever know.

Unfortunately, with how early the CG seems to have originally been placed in the story, I doubt it has anything to do with Daiyu specifically. However, I do now have my own theory of what that cutscene might have entailed, as well as why that would contribute to it being scrapped.

Judging by the leftmost panel, it's easy to deduce this was where Yuri's backstory was originally meant to be explained, as in the whole site burial and survivor's guilt thing would be brought up. The fact that the explanation would later be moved to be inside the Dungeon rather outside would on its own be a good reason to scrap the CG, but there's something else about it that I realized only recently.

In the game proper, Yuri reveals her trauma almost exclusively to Gregor (and initially Ishmael), as all the other Sinners have already passed out due to the gas grenade. However, in the hypothetical scrapped scenario where the reveal came outside the Dungeon, every Sinner would have a chance to hear it and react to it.

So, what kind of reaction would fit the other two panels on the CG? The middle panel of Rodya comforting an uncomfortable looking Yuri while Hong Lu looks innocently confused, followed by a panel with the angriest looking Gregor we've ever seen clashing with the angriest looking Hong Lu we've ever seen?

Here's what I think could have originally happened in that scene (and this is Entirely Speculation, we have no proof of this actually being the case):

I believe, after sharing her story, especially the point about trying to escape the site burial, Mr. Hong 'I am always ready to accept my own death' Lu would act confused and ask something along the lines of "Why didn't you just stay?" or a variant of such. Why didn't you just accept it, why didn't you just let it happen, why did you try to fight it, etc. Essentially asking why, if Yuri was going to feel such guilt for surviving the ordeal, would she ever bother trying to survive in the first place.

This would, understandably, piss Gregor the fuck off, as he himself holds a good deal of guilt for the fact he participated in the War and survived through it. There's a high chance of him trying to verbally rip into Hong Lu, to tell him that he has No Idea what it's like to have to live day by day trying to survive just long enough to see tomorrow, what it's like to have one's life turned into hell without them having any choice on the matter, what it's like to feel the need to run away despite knowing that it will leave them with the guilt of not being able to save anyone else. He's some sheltered rich kid after all, how could he know what it's like to actually suffer?

And I think something like that would be enough for Hong Lu's facade to crack. Because no, Gregor is wrong. Hong Lu knows exactly what it's like, more than anyone should know he does. He might not even be responding with much in this cutscene, even just a hostile "You know nothing about me and my life." would be enough to set the tone. That whatever is going on behind that smile of his is so much worse than what it seems.

...And that's why I think it was scrapped. Because a peek behind Hong Lu's mask in Canto 1 would be too early.

Hong Lu's slow unraveling of his lies is just that - slow. It took us until Just This Recent Canto to get a somewhat clear confirmation that no, the info he gives about his Family is not to be trusted. It took until Canto 3 to see him be the only Sinner actively willing to lie and until Canto 4 to show us he's a good actor. Revealing that Hong Lu has a very different side to him underneath the curious cheerful persona as early as Canto 1 would completely alter the pacing and trajectory of his arc. You'd have a reason to suspect him from the beginning, rather than have a chance to be just as fooled by him as Dante and the other Sinners are.

So no, I don't think that CG is meant to show Daiyu. But I do think that CG was meant to be our first hint to the fact that Hong Lu isn't being honest with the others, at least until it was decided it was too soon for such a reveal.

[rylem33]

The Solaris Prism: Yellow

Characteristics of a “yellow” personality: cheerful, joyous, confident, vain. - - - - - -

Stacey Hart wasn’t a thief, not really. Not in the criminal sense. She didn’t creep through alleyways or lift wallets from unsuspecting tourists. No, this wasn’t her thing. Not usually.

But desperate times…

She glanced down at the ornate wooden box sitting on her cluttered coffee table, biting her lip. Her knee bounced nervously as she turned the situation over in her head for the hundredth time. It hadn’t even been that hard to take. She’d been making another delivery to the museum when she saw it sitting there. Just… sitting there on the table.

The way the box had caught her eye, its glossy, intricate carvings shimmering in the sunlight spilling through the museum’s loading dock. She didn’t know what was inside, but, Come on, she thought, anything this fancy has to be worth something.

Her fingers twitched. The memory of taking it still made her stomach churn. She wasn’t like this.

It’s not like I’m some master thief. It was right there. Unattended. Who’s gonna miss it?

She had bills to pay and a landlord breathing down her neck. The hospital wasn’t going to wait forever. And what were her options? Another double shift at the diner wasn’t going to cut it.

“Maybe… maybe it’s nothing,” she muttered, reaching for the box. Her hand hovered for a moment before she finally gave in. The latch clicked softly.

Inside was a single object: a small, smooth prism nestled on a bed of black velvet.

“That’s it?” she said aloud, the weight of her voice doing little to mask her disappointment. She picked it up gingerly, turning it in her hands. The light caught its surface, sending faint rainbows across the table.

It looked so… normal. No glowing, no jewels encrusted along the edges. Just a plain piece of glass.

Her eyes flicked to the underside of the box lid. Carved there in meticulous script were the words:

The Solaris Prism.

Solaris? Her fingers brushed the engraving as her brows furrowed. Some kind of museum piece, then. But why? Why was this so important?

She sighed and grabbed her laptop, the prism still in her hand as she began searching online.

“Let’s see… Solaris Prism…” she mumbled, her fingers tapping away. Links popped up, most of them unhelpful. A few cryptic forums, a badly formatted webpage that looked like it hadn’t been updated since the ‘90s, and, oh, a grainy image of something that looked vaguely like her find.

Ancient artifact. Powerful civilizations. Source of unimaginable energy. She snorted.

“Yeah, right. And it just ends up sitting on a table?” She slouched back in her chair, staring at the prism again. No price tags, no appraisal estimates. Just mystery and a lot of speculation from people who sounded like they lived in their mom’s basements.

Her gaze lingered on the prism as she turned it over in her hands. It felt oddly warm. Not hot, just… warm, in a way that glass shouldn’t.

What if it’s worth millions?

Her pulse quickened at the thought, but she shoved it down. No sense getting carried away. If it was valuable, there’d be someone out there willing to pay. Someone who’d understand its worth better than she could.

She rubbed her temples, glancing at her phone. Her mom had called twice that morning already, but Stacey hadn’t been ready to deal with the guilt of all the things she’d yet to do.

With a sigh, she grabbed her phone and hit the call button. The ringing barely started before her mom’s familiar voice answered.

“Stacey, honey, finally! I was starting to worry. Did you get my messages?”

“Yeah, Mom,” Stacey said, brushing her hair behind her ear. She tried to keep her voice steady, even though she could hear the weariness in her mom’s. “Sorry, I’ve just been… busy.”

“Did you talk to the landlord about an extension?”

Stacey winced. “Not yet.”

“Stacey,” her mom said, a note of frustration creeping in. “You’ve got to stay on top of this. And what about the pharmacy? Did they call you back about my prescriptions?”

Dang, forgot about that. “Not yet,” Stacey repeated. One more thing I need to put on the list. Her hand drifted toward the prism on the coffee table, her fingers brushing over its smooth, cool surface. “But… actually, I’ve been working on something that might help. With the bills and… you know, everything.”

“Help?” her mom asked cautiously. “What do you mean?”

Stacey picked up the prism, turning it over in her hands. The facets on its surface caught the light spilling in from the window. “I found… something,” Stacey began, hesitating as she tried to put it into words. “It’s, like, this artifact or something. It might be worth a lot.”

Her mom sighed on the other end of the line. “Stacey, please don’t get wrapped up in some scam or junk… We can’t afford to waste time on distractions.”

“It’s not junk,” Stacey said, frowning. She turned the prism, holding it up to the sunlight streaming through the window. For a moment, nothing happened, but then—flash.

A sudden, blinding burst of golden light shot through the prism, catching her square in the eyes. Stacey yelped, nearly dropping it as she blinked rapidly, trying to clear the bright yellow afterimage burned into her vision.

“Stacey? What happened?” her mom’s voice asked, her concern immediate.

“Uh…” Stacey rubbed her eyes, blinking again as the world swam back into focus. “Nothing, Mom. I just…uh…got a little distracted.”

“Distracted? Stacey, this isn’t the time for that…”

“I know!” Stacey interrupted, her tone sharper than she intended. She winced, then softened her voice. “I know, Mom. I’m trying, okay?”

As she spoke, something strange began to bubble up from within, and her lips tugged into a small smile. The usual pressure that weighed on her shoulders seemed to ease just a little.

Her mom sighed again. “Honey, I just don’t want you getting your hopes up. We’ve been through so much, and I hate seeing you stress about my medical stuff…”

“It’s fine,” Stacey said, the words slipping out before she realized it. Her hand fell to her lap, dropping the prism onto the floor. “I mean, it’s not fine-fine, but, like… it’ll work out, you know?”

“Stacey, are you okay?”

“Totally,” Stacey said, a giggle bubbling in her chest. The sound surprised even her. She leaned back against the couch, her head tipping toward the window where the sunlight warmed her face. It felt…warm, wonderful, invigorating. “Actually, I feel pretty great right now.”

“Great?” her mom asked, skeptical.

“Yeah,” Stacey said, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. She froze. Her hair… it looked lighter. She tilted her head, pulling the strand into the sunlight. Golden. Definitely golden, almost glowing.

Her mom’s voice pulled her back. “Stacey, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but…”

Her mom’s voice droned on in the background, but Stacey barely heard her. Her focus was drifting.

“Stacey, are you listening?” her mom’s voice broke through, insistent. “We need to figure out what’s happening with the landlord. And…did you say something about an artifact? What kind of…”

“Uh-huh, yeah, totally,” Stacey murmured, her gaze dropping to her hands resting on the keyboard. Something was off. Her nails… weren’t they shorter before? She tilted her fingers, watching as the edges lengthened right before her eyes, smoothing into perfect ovals. A soft, yellow polished shine appeared catching the light in the room.

Her mom kept going, oblivious. “Honey, I need you to focus. Did you call the pharmacy or not? Because if you didn’t, I can…”

“Mom, wait,” Stacey interrupted, holding her hand up as if her mom could see it. “Have you ever noticed how good my hands look? Like, seriously, my nails are… wow.” She turned them this way and that, marveling at their flawless shape, the soft light reflecting off them making them sparkle faintly.

“What?” her mom stammered, clearly thrown. “Your hands? Stacey, what does that have to do with…”

“Nothing, nothing, sorry,” Stacey said, though her tone was far from apologetic. She felt lighter than she had in years. Her eyes darted to the mirror on the wall, and she stood up, phone pressed loosely to her ear as she approached it. Her reflection stopped her mid-step.

Her face was changing. Her cheekbones had lifted, her jawline softened into a delicate curve. Her lips looked fuller, their natural pink hue replaced with a faint, glossy sheen. Her wide brown eyes now shimmered with flecks of gold, catching the light. Stacey leaned closer, a smile creeping onto her face. She looked… radiant.

“Mom,” she said suddenly, her voice bright and lilting. “Do you think I’d look good in, like, a strapless top? Or maybe one of those off-the-shoulder things?”

“What?” her mom sputtered. “What are you talking about? Stacey, this isn’t like you. What’s going on?”

“I mean, not that I don’t already look good,” Stacey continued, her giggle bubbling up again. She tilted her head and her hair fell like golden thread around her face. “I just think I could… I don’t know, elevate things a little.”

Her mom’s voice wavered between panic and disbelief. “Stacey, are you sure you’re feeling okay? You sound…different.”

“Different good, right?” Stacey asked, running her hands down her sides. Her sweater felt tighter across her chest, and when she shifted her weight, the fabric strained uncomfortably. She blinked, watching as the plain cotton began to shimmer. Threads of yellow light wove through the material, dissolving it into something softer, glossier, and definitely more glamorous. The sweater shrank upward, reshaping itself into a strapless top that clung to her curves like a second skin.

“Ooooh,” Stacey cooed, twisting to admire the way the top emphasized her figure. Her waist pinched inward, her hips flaring outward as if they’d been sculpted. Her jeans shimmered next, the denim fading away into a high-cut yellow skirt that hugged her hips and thighs. 

“Stacey!” her mom practically yelled now. “Why are you talking about clothes? Why are you acting like this? Please…what’s happening to you?”

“Relax, Mom,” Stacey said, rolling her shoulders. The way her body moved was new…slinky..sexy. “You worry way too much…it’s bad for your skin! Stress makes you wrinkle, you know.”

“What…what are you even talking about?” her mom stammered, her voice breaking.

“Just a little life advice,” Stacey said, grinning as she turned back to the mirror. Her legs shimmered now, lengthening into smooth, golden tanned perfection. Her sneakers dissolved, the fabric shifting upward as they transformed into towering yellow stilettos. The heels clicked softly against the floor as she stepped closer to the mirror, her grin widening. “Oh my God,” she breathed, placing a hand on her hip. “Do you see this, Mom? Wait…of course you don’t. But wow.”

“Stacey, please,” her mom pleaded, panic lacing her words. “Something’s happening to you…you need help! You’re not acting like yourself!”

“Not acting like myself?” Stacey repeated, laughing as she tilted her head to admire the way her hair caught the light. “You’re right! I’m better. Like… so much better.” She blew herself a kiss in the mirror.

“Stacey, please…”

“Oh, Mom, you’re stressing again,” Stacey said, her tone a mixture of joy and indulgence. “You should really try lightening up. Like, just let yourself be happy.  Feel the joy that is life, you know?” She twirled in front of the mirror, her skirt flaring as her heels clicked against the floor. “Life’s too short to worry about all this boring stuff.”

Her mom’s voice broke on the other end. “Stacey, I…”

“Okay, I’m gonna go now. Love you! Bye!” Stacey chirped, cutting the call with a flick of her manicured finger. She tossed the phone onto the couch and turned back to her reflection, unable to stop smiling.

“Perfect,” she whispered to herself. With a final glance at the mirror, she blew her reflection another kiss. Problems were for other people.