#but sometimes you have to take kindness at face value

[dominote]

i think light yagami is "socially adept" in terms of being able to reason out relatively well what to say and do to come off as a harmless and good and polite young man who is likeable to be around. however i do not think "socially adept" (or "neurotypical") typically comes with having to preface every other normal-passing action and statement with a minor crisis of "ah shit. quick, what would i say/do in response to this if i was light yagami, a normal and nice and respectable young man?"

everyone likes to talk about him talking about kira in third person but can we acknowledge that he also talks about LIGHT in third person. i'm not adding manga panels at 3:57am but y'all know exactly which ones i mean

[ceramicbeetle]

finally found a place to read With the Light online and i'm thrilled; if you haven't read this manga i do Legitimately recommend it

[faebriel]

hgs brainrot has returned due to tbosas .. speaking of hgs here’s an ask abt the hgs au: if things were totally different, and Wilbur were to be a 12 victor, what do you think a possible mentor-tribute dynamic would look like between him & Niki? I feel like it would be similar to Snow & Lucy in the way that he’s just going out of his way to cheat n help her

anon u have in fact struck jackpot because this is a concept i was spinning some thoughts abt before bee mentioned avoxes and we went OOOOH at that!!! so yes i have considered rainduo as a mentor-tribute dynamic and would love to talk about that concept too :]

so for this concept i think wilbur and niki would be close friends throughout childhood from 12, and then in their teens wilbur is reaped and, well, no one has particularly high hopes (he's a writer and a musician at heart, not a fighter) but through sheer trickery and dumb luck, he makes it to the end of the games. wilbur pulled some pretty fucked up tricks to win - when you can't use brute force, you have to use your brain - and partly due to the trauma of the games, partly due to his shame and survivor's guilt, he sinks into the capitol and relishes a new life there as a socialite. to him, the old wilbur died in the games and the new one has taken his place - to niki, and to his other friends in 12, whatever the games did to him made him into every vapid heartless capitol victor there is.

or. niki has her doubts. they all saw how horrible the games were, but surely there is some part of him left, some part that's hurting, even if it's buried deep?

anyway.

like og spin of the au, niki is reaped and this sucks - this time she does expect wilbur as her mentor on the train, and she expects some kind of warm welcome (maybe even an apology for leaving them so suddenly and silently? an explanation?) but she gets jack shit. wilbur is jaded and cruel and unrecognisable and niki entirely hates it. this is the part where i REALLY WISH we got some time of those two beefing with each other directly in canon (or at least interactions while niki was So Mad at him) but it's okay we fly blind. niki feels abandoned, lonely, thrown off of her kilter - she expected an ally in this place, but she doesn't recognise the person wilbur has become. she doesn't recognise his shallowness (...much), his ruthless advice for the arena, the way he doesn't seem to care for anything. she's scared and now she's lonely and it pisses her off - their mentorship is fraught. here are some thoughts from discord on that:

i tend to think of niki as a bit naïve before l'manberg or even doomsday - i think this is an au where this streak would come out real strong, and niki is stubborn that she can get through the games without losing herself. stubborn that she can stop things, that she can protect people. i don't think wilbur is cold enough (or, really, can bear to say aloud) to say that her odds in the arena are slim enough as it is, but he definitely tells her that she's making enemies and that her odds of survival dwindle with the more trouble she causes.

beyond that... hm. niki's trust in wilbur is almost unshakeable until nov 16, even when she outright says she doesn't recognise him anymore. i think she'd reluctantly listen re: don't burn down any buildings, but she would grow bolder each day she had to stay in the capitol. she gets more honest in front of the cameras. she makes more friends in training, and not the ones wilbur recommends. she throws barbs at him every time he makes one of those callous, cold-hearted comments about other tributes and rankings and odds. and besides, she's going in the arena this time, not him. she needs to practice her bravery.

it's like... she hasn't given up on him. she thinks the old wilbur is in there somewhere. (she is wrong. that is not how trauma works.) but she won't hold her tongue just because she

for extra angst points could definitely play up the whole 'feeling abandoned' angle between them as niki goes into the arena - probably due to how fraught their friendship gets leading up to the games. niki wants to focus on them and their friendship, wilbur has stringently cut off (almost) everything from 12 and refuses to let her in; he tells her to behave for the cameras, she tells him she never will. i think the last point in that screenshot would also make for a super tasty argument where niki feels wilbur has gone astray, that he's abandoned 12, and that he'll probably do nothing but sit on his ass and watch her die and he can't even bring himself to care about her anymore, can he? just more fodder for the arena. and honestly, i think wilbur would passively agree with most of that - he values niki's opinion, after all, even now, and if she says he's rapidly descending into a lost cause then she must be right. and it's niki, so she will be fine, and he goes to his bedroom that night and tries to pretend he is sleeping perfectly fine instead of feeling paralysed with fear.

okay now onto the games - YES HE SO WOULD. or at least i think he would go out of his way to help. as for cheating - he's a recent victor for 12 and i think he would value tommy (no doubt a link to him... i think they'd be in touch in this au also) too much to risk the punishment falling onto him as well. i get the vibes this is a games closer to 74th than 10th, so there are far fewer opportunities to cheat and the consequences of getting caught are higher. but schmoozing up sponsors? making stupid ass radio interviews or whatever to talk up niki's odds? sharing anecdotes from their childhood - some real, some entirely fabricated - across capitol airwaves to stoke their sympathy? 100%. with less to lose in this au, i think niki would be far less inclined to play nice for the cameras - i hope you starve, she spits at one of them, and wilbur appears on a talkshow two days later as she scrambles for survival in the arena to talk up how she always saved loaves from the bakery for the poorest mothers and children in 12. he borrows and begs and swindles to the point where it feels like cheating. but hey, this new wilbur is capitol-branded. he knows how to play the game.

if anything he probably sinks into the game a little too much. self-preservation is not his forte. probably wracks up a few heavy debts and favours to owe, but those are not priority until niki is out of the arena, alive. as long as she wins, and as long as the family he has isn't in danger, he will manage. wow it would suck if at some point those two goals became impossible to co-achieve. anyway

i kind of see niki's victory in the arena being similar to the one in the main au - if only because planning out an entire games is hard for meee >-< . she walks in bolder and braver for sure, and with a less strategic pick of allies, but they all get picked off and she spends a few weeks so terrified she can barely sleep and then she ruptures some fuel line and sets the arena alight with a fire that burns brighter and more ravenously than it should. but she wins, and she's airlifted out of a filthy, muddy creek she had resigned herself to die in, and wilbur barges his way through as many peacekeepers so that he can actually see her with her burnt skin and hair and unfocused eyes and trust that what was on the screens wasn't a fluke, and that they made it. and then it's just a matter of surviving the after.

i'm sure there are some other random quirks or tidbits i can think of re: this take on a c!rainduo hunger games au but these are my base thoughts!!

[convoloutedinjoke]

I think the thing that doesn't jive for me with J/H most of the time is that theres a lot of stuff where its made out like jean is ooooghghg Suffering because harry doesn't Care for him as much as he Cares for Harry and it rings really false to me. Harry would... care a lot? He would care very very much and in his own broken way try his best to express it? Maybe it wouldn't always come out right (see: the video game disco Elysium) but he wouldn't Not Care As Much. He would care. He would care so much it would be a major source of tension in whatever they'd call that whole situation, because (points at jean) unable to reciprocate even if he wanted to, which most of the time I doubt he does.

[secondpersonpoetry]

hi! heard the released “Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call” (which i’ve seen you’ve heard live, if i’m not mistaken!!) this morning and i don’t know if there’s really a particular vibe/dynamic/ship hrpf-wise (personally haven’t yet been able to put my finger on it) that quite relates but the lyrics have been rotating in my head all day and i was wondering if you had any thoughts? hope you have a good one! <3

OH ANON HAVE I EVER SEEN IT LIVE!!! and the second that song came out i zoomed it straight into my fic playlist and unfortunately there are so many guys this could be. right now the one that's resonating is, of course, the golden boy and his haunted ghost themselves: mcstrome.

i am thinking about connor, specifically, after the stanley cup final. that game seven. how angry he was, how loud the silence when they told him he won the conn smythe. how close he's come before and again and again lost. there's nobody else to blame but himself. he's in the empty room and he knows why (1)

at!! your best!!! you were magic!!! oh, golden boy. connor the anointed, of course. at the very beginning of his career we always knew he was something special and who wouldn't have fallen in love with him? weren't all of us a little bit dylan strome in awe of the generational talent? we were all bathed in radiant light just by being in the vicinity (2)

don't even tell 'em that you know me breaks my heart (3). in terms of building a narrative i think i've said before there is a universe where connor/dylan were together before the draft and to protect both of them, dylan breaks up with him. connor says i love you and dylan says i don't. because he doesn't, you know? he loved connor. he loved davo. he can't be in love with connor mcdavid, first overall pick of the edmonton oilers. i'd rather be hurt forever than have to watch us try to make this work and destroy us.

and after connor mcdavid left the otters, dylan strome captained them to a memorial cup win. what a haunted home, eh? to be captain of the team you and your best friend were on, only now he's left you? don't call me to tell me about your rookie season with the oilers--we both know about your broken collarbone. don't call me to tell about becoming the youngest captain in franchise history when i stepped into the shoes of your captaincy here. don't call me. (4)

narratively: dylan's the one who broke connor's heart and his own but by god it wasn't easy. we both know what happened, you went first overall. please don't make this harder on me. please don't call.

this verse can be about the weight of dylan having to live up to connor's standards and always being measured by him. i would just like to bring up the connor stepping stone chart for absolutely no reason as well (5)

we are, at long last, at the potential future of now: dylan strome, happy, smiling, thriving on the washington capitals. connor, on the oilers. i'm not yours, dylan can say. haven't been for a long time. it took some time but i made this. please don't call and ruin this for me, stay out of my life. i don't want you or need you (6)

[p.s. this took a while because when i received this ask i was a) immediately possessed to write this verse by verse breakdown i had never thought of before and then b) immediately plagued by the idea of making you a little graphic (above the read more) and finally got to do it after banging out all the actual lyric thoughts two (?) weeks ago. emerging two and a half hours later from the fugue state of GIMP with 37 layers in this bad boy hope you enjoy!!!]

[kashverse]

gojo is the best spouse because he turns you into a legend without you even trying. to know him is to know you—your name slipping past his lips in every conversation, your face proudly displayed on his phone, your stories recounted with a kind of giddy enthusiasm that makes even the most stoic listener crack a smile. there’s no such thing as bad luck when gojo satoru loves you; his eyes alone banish any misfortune that dares to linger. he’ll talk about you to strangers, to cashiers, to police officers who stop him for jaywalking—he doesn’t care. “you think that’s impressive? my partner did something even cooler the other day.” you’re his pride, his joy, the one thing in his life that makes him want to slow down and just exist in the warmth of your presence.

nanami is the best spouse because he redefines what love is supposed to be. it’s not just passion, not just commitment—it’s the quiet assurance that you are valued, that your thoughts hold weight, that your happiness is a priority. he sees you, truly sees you, in ways no one else ever has. he believes in balance; he wants you to chase your ambitions, to work if you wish, to contribute in the ways that make you feel fulfilled. but when it comes to making dinner? setting the table? making sure you eat something warm after a long day? that’s his job, and he won’t hear a word of protest. marriage, to him, is not an obligation—it’s a privilege, a choice he makes every day when he reaches for your hand, when he listens without interruption, when he presses a kiss to your temple and says, “i’m lucky to have you.”

toji is the best spouse because he teaches you that love is not about erasing the past, but honoring it while making space for something new. he carries the weight of old wounds, but never lets them cast a shadow over what he has with you. he never makes you feel like a replacement or a second choice; he loves you for you, not for what you remind him of. he is grateful—so deeply, unbearably grateful—that despite everything, despite the ghosts that sometimes linger in his mind, you chose him. you remind him that love can come twice in a lifetime, that he is not meant to drift through the years alone. “thank you,” he murmurs against your skin, rough hands cradling you like something fragile. “for giving me another chance at this.”

sukuna is the best spouse because he makes you fall in love with the smallest, most insignificant things. love isn’t grand declarations with him, it’s not poetry or flowers or whispered confessions—it’s found in the way he pulls you closer in his sleep, in the way his hand lingers on the small of your back when you walk together. it’s in the extra piece of food he sets aside for you, the grumbled complaints when you forget your coat, the way his touch is always firm but never unkind. it’s absurd, really, that the king of curses finds beauty in the mundane, but somehow, with you, he does. love is a worn-out robe draped over your shoulders because you looked cold. love is a scoff and a muttered, “you’re hopeless,” before he takes over a task you were struggling with. love is him, in all his rough edges and unspoken affections, in the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren’t paying attention—like you are the only thing in this world worth keeping.

[just-a-ghost00]

A portrait of your fated lover

Group 1

Cards : Agate - Find your solid ground, Knight of pentacles, Treat yourself eat what you want, Underworld, Newborn butterfly, Majestic stag " I honor my self worth by asking for what I want."

There's a predominance of Earth energy in this spread, especially Taurus energy. I also picked up on Venusian energy so Libra may be significant as well. This person's energy feels very feminine. I think it is safe to say that this person is a lover by nature. They are very caring, kind, generous on a daily basis but those qualities will be even more highlighted when they are with you. They have a very empathetic nature as well. Their sensitivity shows in the way they talk and in their gestures. They walk very slowly, their touch is deliberate and careful, their tone is reassuring and warm. They are very encouraging and supportive of others as well. I feel like your trope with this person would be friends to lovers. Connection to and through music seems very significant. Music could be part of their hobbies but it could also be their job. They need time to trust people but once their mind is made, this person does not back down until they get what they want. They have a steady and secure approach with relationships. They take the time to get to know the other and make sure that both partners are on the same wave length because they value stability and authenticity. When they are dating, they are in for the long run. They're not interested in short term connections. This person is family oriented and also career oriented so they would appreciate a partner that is respectful of their goals.

They definitely are a foody ! In the past, they may have struggled with their body image and physical health. They could have struggled with eating disorders. But now, this person is very conscious of what they eat. However, they do not deprive themselves of what makes them happy. They've worked really hard on their sense of worth and can now proudly say that they love themselves. They've gone through an important transformation in their life. This could have involved a physical glow up. But I feel like their mental state changed drastically as well, as I get the impression with the underworld card that they overcame a period of depression. With the energy of the stag, I feel like this person has stepped into their true power after many trials. I also pick up on the fact that they feel grateful for these challenges because they're aware of the role they played in their progress. They learned how to set their boundaries and ensure that their needs are met. They may have been neglected in past relationships.

They enjoy spending time alone in nature to get back to their center. If in the past they used to be surrounded by many people, they learned the hard way that sometimes being alone was better than being in bad company. This person now values their alone time and makes it a part of their routine. Speaking of routines, their energy feels quite organized and stable. This person likes for things to be explicit. They like to know in advance what their schedule will be, what people expect of them, what resources do they have and so on. Unpredictability may scare them. Physically, I feel like they're quite tall and fit. They put a lot of work into their health and their appearance. They dress aesthetically. Their physical traits are natural for the majority : they don't dye their hair, they likely do not have any piercing or tattoo, if they've had any surgery it isn't something that is appearant and it was likely done for health purposes only. They may not wear make up or if they do, they use very little amount of product. I get a very clean vibe from this group. Honestly, I feel like your person could be modeling for an ad. For some of you, that may be part of their job. Anyways, they are definitely good looking and I feel like you'll particularly enjoy looking at their face. They may have straight hair with bangs that hide their eyes. They may like to wear hoodies and beanies or caps a lot. I feel like their fashion style is rather genderless. What stands out the most is how clean and tidy it looks all together. They may go for a casual chic vibe more often.

This person has a very romantic vibe. They could mostly show affection through physical touch, acts of service, gift giving and quality time. Though they may be very artistic and don't have any difficulty communicating in their daily life, I feel like in an intimate setting they have a hard time finding their words. They may not say "I love you" very often but their actions will show you without a doubt that they do. They'll bring you your favorite food when you're feeling a bit down, surprise you when you least expect it because you deserve it, anticipate your needs, make significant gestures to help you on your journey. Their love feels slow and steady. They'll build a cocoon around you that you'll never want to leave because of how safe you feel in it. You'll never have to fear this person's reactions or wonder whether they're faking it. Everything they do is very genuine and deliberate. If they tell you they like you, they mean it. If they gift you something, they meant to. They don't have any second thought, any ulterior motive than to take care of you, nurture you and love you wholeheartedly.

Channeled song (s) : Jimin - Lie, BTS - Butterfly Extras : niche interests, book worm, ASMR enthusiast, workaholic, gamer, middle child, ESFP, ISTP, ENTJ

Group 2

Cards : 8 of pentacles, Chrysocolla - Be your own mama, I've got superpowers, The Observer, Sturdy crab, Eternal roots "Guidance is available to me now. I know that angels, ancestors and spirit guides are always at hand. I do not walk alone.

Okay, this is definitely my psychic / healer group. This person is a good mix of Earth and Water energy, especially Taurus, Scorpio and Cancer. This person has a hard time looking at themselves in the mirror. They struggle with their body image and they are not comfortable with showing their body. They are very modest and this could also be because of their cultural background. They are a hard worker to the point that when they're up to something they have a hard time stopping. They may stutter or have a hard time finding their words in public settings but in private they can be pretty elaborate. This person had to grow up very quickly and parent themselves. They could be working in a medical field or a position that requires them to care for others : teacher, paramedic, massage therapist, psychologist and so on. They use their hands a lot or they have the ability to provide healing through touch. They may also do a lot of manual activities as a hobby. They could have the ability to read into energies. This may or may not be a conscious thing. This person is possibly religious and/or interested in the occult.

They have a hard time trusting other people. They have a sturdy shell that not many have been able to see beyond. This person is alone most of the time. They have a hard time making connections. They may struggle with ASD. This person could be neurodivergent. They need a lot of quiet time to recharge. They could also struggle with mental health issues. This person has been through a lot, that's for sure. And despite all of that, they are the kindest and sweetest person you'll ever meet. In group settings, they tend to be like a mother. They cater to everyone's needs exept their own. They encourage and compliment others, make sure everyone's eaten and drunk their water, that everyone's had a proper sleep and is feeling good. But they forget themselves in the process. Physically, they have rather long hair. They can be quite curvy but I feel like what stands out the most about their appearance is that they hide behind a lot of clothing. They wear oversized clothes or clothes that aren't revealing. They may layer clothes a lot. If they wear skirts or dresses, those are quite long and flowy so that it doesn't stick to their body. Even in Summer, this person is covered up. This person masks a lot of their true self in public. This could be litteral in the sense that they wear an actual mask in public, maybe for health purposes for some. But it could also be metaphorical in the sense that they wear things or act in ways that is not relevant to who they are as a person. This is likely a defense mechanism and they may do so because they feel pressured. Of course, it could also mean that this person wears a veil in public.

In connections, I feel like they show their affection in all ways. They have no problem changing love languages to adapt to their partner's needs. This person feels like a chameleon a little. I think this could be related to their ability to mask certain aspects of themselves but also to their high levels of empathy. I am not given many details about their physique but more about their personality so it could also mean that looks don't matter to them. They also feel very balanced in their feminine and masculine. It could be possible that this person is gender neutral. I see a lot of green on the cards which relates to heart chakra energy. So this person has a lot of heart that they put into everything they do. They are a very genuine person that only wishes to love and be loved. Their shell isn't easy to crack but once you've earned their trust, you can be sure that they will treat you like royalty. They are 100% a giver and tend to be on the submissive side. In that sense, they feel a bit similar to group 1's person. Family is important to this person. They may wish to have a family of their own in the future. Like group 1's person, they are not into short term connections. They date for the long run. They look for a partner that can be understanding of their shadows and will not run away when things get difficult. This person is dealing with an abandonment wound. In past connections, they were mostly left out and never chosen. They may have been bullied as a child. This person is extremely loyal and dedicated to their lover. You will never have to doubt about this person's dedication and intentions.

Channeled song(s) : Mario theme, Naruto OST, Saliva - I walk alone (Dave Bautista entrance theme) Extras : words of affirmation, cultural differences, kinky 24/7, first born child, golden retriever vibes, ASMR enthusiast, ISTP, ENFJ

Group 3

Cards : Copper - Energize your whole world, Strength, Hierophant, Do what you love, Cunning fox, Forgotten arch "The more I honor my inner light the more I brighten the world. I choose to shine."

This group gives of fire and earth energy, especially Taurus, Leo and Sagittarius. There are two things that are striking about this person : their eyes and their voice. They are smart AF. If you were to debate with them, you wouldn't be able to win. They are very convincing people. And also very charming. They ooze confidence. This is someone that is very active physically, both for health purposes but also for fun. They are very passionate, bed time included. They are also very funny. They make a lot of snarky comments and sexual inuendos. They speak and type really fast. They cannot stay still. They have many interests and can pretty much do anything. They're an all rounder and a fast learner. They are very skilled and popular among their peers. They have core values that they would defend no matter what. They cannot stand injustice. This stems from past experiences, including romantic ones. They could have been cheated on by ex partners. This person may have been told quite frequently in their life that they were "too much", "too loud", "too noticeable". Which may have birthed a lot of resentment in this person as well as anger issues.

Physically they are quite bulky and impressive. They intimidate people just by their looks. There's something about them that's very warm. It could be because of their fashion style, their shining smile or their incredible charisma. They are intense. Not only because they are constantly on their guards and ready to fight but because their personality is complex and they have a lot of depth. This person may be religious. Or at least they're very traditional. If they define themselves as a man, they may be a bit of a machist. They have a very dominant energy. I feel like they're the type to believe in that alpha/beta/omega dynamic between people. And they want to be perceived as and embody that alpha energy. They come off as very masculine in their energy. So they may struggle with expressing their feminine side more. This person is likely to show affection through actions than words. They are definitely sensual and kinky. They have a lot of stamina. They are stubborn AF. But they're also incredibly uplifting and inspiring. This person is the type that would push their partner to be the best version of themselves and help them embrace their own light. I feel like they would challenge their partner, tease them a lot, bring out the more competitive side of them because they themselves are very competitive. They aren't afraid of depth and shadows so if their partner had any rocky past I feel like this person wouldn't mind. They're the "only matters the here and now" type.

This person has a very curious mind and I feel like that applies sexually. They may like to spice things up quite often. They may enjoy spicy food and boosting their stamina with certain herbs deemed as aphrodisiacs. They could believe in superstitions. Again, I get a very committed vibe from this group. If this person dates someone, they do it with the hope that it will lead to something long lasting. They are the most likely to commit very early on in relationships. They do not like to dwell on the past. I also feel like very early on this person will make you feel like royalty. They definitely pamper their partner and spoil them. Even though they may not be into PDA, I feel like this person will deliberately at times use physical touch to show others you are off limits. They definitely are the jealous and possessive type. They may be a bit rigid at first in connections and they need to be sure their partner is as serious as they are if they want to be able to release the need to control.

Channeled song(s) : The Final Countdown, Doodle - Changbin Extras : book worm, cultural differences, gift giving, kinky 24/7, drama queen/king, INTJ, ENTP, INTP, INFJ

[girlgenius1111]

luckier than grapes

clearly into one another, neither you nor alexia do anything about it. alexia is convinced to make a move on new years. you're clueless. fluff :)

—

Playing with a team that performed at the caliber that Barcelona did should have been the most intimidating part of the whole moving to a different country thing for you. Somehow, it wasn’t. There were many intimidating things about it; a new language, a new style of play, a tight knit team, high expectations. All of that paled in comparison to the fear the Barcelona captain caused in you. 

You’d played against Alexia before, and she brought an intensity to the pitch that left you breathless. She was an otherworldly presence when she played. All furrowed brows and sharp words thrown at the ref. She was Alexia Putellas, one of the best in the world. She carried herself in a way that made you feel smaller, somehow. Like you were an amateur and she was an expert. Better yet, like you were playing for a high school team and she was… Alexia. Mononymous. 

When you’d joined the team, though, you didn’t meet the overwhelmingly perfect version. You met Alexia, your captain, who was running late because she spilled coffee in the hallway outside her apartment door, and didn’t want to leave it for somehow else to have to clean. She was still striking, still sent butterflies fluttering around your stomach. This time, it wasn’t because she intimated you. It was because when she smiled, one side of her mouth raising slightly higher than the other, you were a goner. 

Alexia was beautiful, anyone could see that. But as you spent the next few months getting to know her, you saw more. Alexia was gentle when she’d help you up after a rough tackle or wake you up on the plane to tell you it was time to get off. She was kind and caring, and fiercely passionate about her friends. You were drawn to her in a way you couldn’t really explain, and miraculously, it seemed she was drawn to you in the same way. 

Chats in the locker room turned into grabbing lunch with her after training. Rides home from matches turned into movie nights where you both passed out on the couch. 

You told yourself it was platonic. What else could it be? The chances that Alexia felt something for you outside of friendship… that just wasn’t possible. In the few months you’d gotten to know her, she’d become your best friend. You weren’t naive to your true feelings, but you were firm that there was no way they were returned. As quickly as you’d fallen for Alexia, you’d convinced yourself you could never have her. That she’d never feel the same way. You were addicted, or maybe you were just hopelessly in love. Either way. You valued your friendship with her too much to put it in jeopardy by confessing your feelings. And if you couldn’t have her as your girlfriend, you’d settle for having her as your best friend. Because any Alexia was better than no Alexia. 

You could pretend her touch didn’t send chills up your spine, or that her laugh didn’t instantly bring a smile to your face. You could pretend that making her smile didn’t feel better than winning all the titles in the world, or that you liked to take her sweatshirts not because they smelled like her but because they were just oversized and comfy. You could pretend. You just didn’t know how long you could pretend for. 

You didn’t know a lot of things, it turned out. 

—

“Alexia, if you don’t invite her, I will and I’ll bother you about it anyway, so you might as well just–”

“Fine! Fine, María. You are so pushy sometimes.” Alexia snapped, her eyes flickering over to where you were chatting with Kika, her frustration with her friend almost evaporating as she watched you laugh. 

“And you are hopelessly in love and I can’t take it anymore. So if I have to be pushy, I’ll be pushy.” 

Alexia didn’t even bother contradicting Mapi. That ship had sailed weeks ago when she’d had too much wine at dinner with her sister and she’d called Mapi half sobbing about how much she liked you. Drunk Alexia was an evil Alexia, she’d decided. Because now Mapi knew and the defender was making her do something about it instead of pining after you from afar. 

She began to walk in your direction, trying to hype herself up and failing miserably. You didn’t like her like that. She was sure, absolutely convinced. There was just… no way. No way on earth or in heaven. But here she was, like an idiot, about to stumble her way through an invite to a New Year’s Eve party because for some reason, her words tended to become all jumbled when she talked to you. 

As soon as you spotted her walking in your direction, whatever conversation you’d been having with Kika promptly fell out of your head. Kika, oddly, seemed to disappear the next second, as if knowing to give you and Alexia a moment to yourselves. Strange. 

“Hola.” Alexia said softly, her hands twitching at her sides as if she wanted to give you a hug or something. 

“Hi.” 

“Um… I have a question.” Alexia said, switching to English so she was sure you’d understand. Her accent made your heart beat faster, as it always did. 

“Shoot.” You replied.

Alexia’s eyebrows knit together, a look of confusion washing over her face. “Shoot? Like a ball?” 

Biting your lip to keep from chuckling you shook your head. “Kind of? It’s a saying. It means ask your question. Go for it.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Alexia nodded, trying to regain her composure. Her hair was falling out of the ponytail it was in, you could see a sheen of sweat across her forehead, and you were completely bewildered at how someone could look so beautiful after several hours of intense exercise. “Vale, you said you would be home for New Years Eve? There is a party, Patri is throwing a party. And I wanted to invite you. So… I am. Inviting you.” 

There were no errors in Alexia’s words, and you couldn’t help but feel that she had rehearsed what she’d just said before. It was a bit awkward, too, but Alexia was always a bit awkward. At least around you. 

“I’d love to come.” You smiled back, pretending you weren’t analyzing every single part of what she’d just said. 

“Good! I.. want you there.” Alexia said quickly, hoping you’d attribute the flush of her cheeks to the heat and the workout. You didn’t even notice it though, too busy staring at her eyes, and how one of them was a bit lighter than the other. 

“I’ll be there then.” 

The two of you smiled at each other, more oblivious than any two people had potentially ever been before. With a few more words exchanged, you headed in for the locker room and Alexia bounded back over to Mapi like an overexcited dog. There was something… different about this. You and Alexia hung out all the time, but the way she’d asked about New Years…as if it meant something. It was several weeks away, though, so you had plenty of time to think about it and figure out what specifically Alexia’s game was here. 

—

And think about it, you did. All through the break. Christmas may not have even occurred and you wouldn’t have noticed. All you could think about was her on New Years. What would she wear? Why had she invited you so… formally? What would she wear? Was this… could it possibly be what you secretly hoped it was? What would you wear?

By the time the 31st came around, you were still just as confused as you’d been before the break. You and Alexia had talked, often, but it didn’t feel different the way her question about the party had. Even when you fell asleep on facetime together on Christmas Eve, it didn’t feel… weighted, like her invitation had. It felt normal, comfortable. Safe. Alexia always felt very safe. 

That was what you focused on, as you got dressed for the party. You forced your brain to stop overthinking, and just reminded yourself of several things. You always felt safe with Alexia. You always had fun with Alexia. There was no way your feelings were requited so there was nothing to be nervous about. You were alarmingly calm, as you walked into Patri’s apartment, a nice bottle of champagne and a bag of grapes in your hand. 

That calmness lasted all of 10 seconds, after which you spotted Alexia in a lace crop top and black jeans and you forgot how to breathe.

—

Alexia was nervous. She didn’t really get nervous, but here she was, watching you walk in through the front door and feeling her pulse quicken rapidly. You were greeted by Patri, hugging her tightly and handing over the things you’d brought, unaware of your captain’s eyes on you. 

“Be cool.” Mapi instructed. “Casual, but confident. Be yourself but don’t–”

“Get away from me before I pour your drink on you.” Alexia mumbled, fixing a smile on her face as she watched you look in her direction, raising your hand in an adorable little wave. She’d thought about how this would go for weeks, since you’d agreed to come to the party. She thought and thought and thought, and somehow, as you walked towards her, she was completely blank on what to say. 

“Hey, you.” You greeted, smiling that soft smile Alexia never really saw you give anyone else. She swallowed hard, forcing her brain to start functioning again. 

“Hi… um. How are you? How was your flight?” 

“God, awful. Delayed and I got moved to a middle seat and I barely slept at all. I’m so exhausted, I almost didn’t come, but I knew you were looking forward to it so I drank some coffee and threw an outfit on and here I am.” 

It was a long winded answer not at all justified by the question, yet you felt that familiar comfort take over as you looked at Alexia, at her soft hair falling to her shoulders and the hazel of her eyes. All she had to do was look at you, and you were talking, telling her every detail of your day. 

“Well, I am glad you came, but I am sorry you are tired. And it does not look like you threw that outfit on. You look… good. Really good.” Alexia blushed, gripping her champagne flute tightly in her hands. 

You blinked, a shy smile spreading across your face. Maybe… maybe you hadn’t misunderstood the undertone of her invitation to this party. The thought barely took hold in your head before it was pushed away. 

“I have to go find Mapi for something. I’ll see you later.” Alexia said suddenly, turning and walking away from you so fast, she was out of sight before you could even process what had happened. 

Honestly, you weren’t sure what was going on now. It had seemed like, for a minute.. maybe. But no. She’d rushed away like she couldn’t get away from you fast enough, and you cursed yourself for getting your hopes up, even if it was just for a minute. You had to resign yourself to the fact that Alexia was your friend and nothing more. 

With a deep breath, you turned away from the spot Alexia had vacated, looking around for Pina. You needed a shot. And she’d give you one, surely. 

—

“Ale, breathe.” Mapi insisted, eyes flickering back and forth as Alexia paced the length of Patri’s bedroom, her panic taking over completely at this point. The defender had very aggressively pulled away from the conversation she was in with Ingrid, finding herself in Patri’s bedroom with Alexia before she had a chance to yank her arm back. Alexia, it seemed, was panicking. 

“I told her she looked really good! What was I thinking letting you talk me into this. She doesn’t like me, María, she doesn’t. This is insane, and I’m not doing it.” 

Mapi rolled her eyes. “You better or I’m locking the two of you in this bedroom until you do it.” 

“I can’t kiss her!” Alexia half shouted, throwing her hands up in the air and flopping down onto Patri’s bed. 

Mapi sat on the edge of the bed next to her, an amused smirk pulling at her mouth. “Do you not know how to–”

Alexia removed her hands from her face, her glare intimidating enough that Mapi trailed off without Alexia having to say anything. 

“Look, Ale, it’s a good plan. You kiss her. It’s midnight on New Years, it's what people do.”

“It’s cliche.” 

“But that is what's perfect. You kiss her. She likes it, you’re good. She asks you what the hell you’re doing, you say… Everyone needs a New Year's kiss. It’s tradition.” 

“That’s insane, she isn’t going to buy that!” 

Mapi sighed, frustration bubbling over. “It won’t come to that! She likes you, Ale, she wants you. Just trust me.” 

Alexia inhaled deeply, trying to calm her nervous system down. This wasn’t her. She was Alexia. She was confident and sure of herself, even if you had a magical ability to see right through all that. Alexia had learned a long time ago that if you carried yourself with confidence, you’d become confident.  

She stood with a renewed purpose, taking a few more calming breaths. “Okay.” 

Without another word, she left the room, leaving her best friend sitting on the bed, utterly confused as to what had just happened. Mapi checked her watch. 11:55. She’d find out soon enough what Alexia had decided, she thought. 

— 

When Alexia reappeared, she seemed much calmer. Maybe it was the two shots you’d taken in a row at Pina’s insistence, but she seemed like herself as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders and casually steered you to the corner of the room. 

“This is the best spot for the countdown.” She declared, hoping you wouldn’t ask why because she didn’t have a reason other than… everyone would be facing forward, watching the TV, and not looking at the two of you. Luckily, you just nodded your head, looking around the room. It was quite full of people, and you wondered if maybe Patri could set you up with one of her friends. You had to get over this crush, you decided, because it was going to ruin your friendship with Alexia if you didn’t. It was a minute or two to midnight, surely you could find some random girl to kiss. This was Patri’s party after all. 

But Alexia was staring at you, you noticed out of the corner of your eye. You turned to her, seeing that the nervous energy had returned and she was fiddling with the hem of her shirt, one of her feet tapping on the wood floor. 

“I–”

“Are you–?”

Both of you spoke at the same time, laughing slightly as you both gestured for the other to continue. 

“You first.” Alexia insisted with a smile. She was wearing some kind of lip gloss and it was… distracting, to say the least. 

“I… uh.” You shook your head, trying to clear it of thoughts of Alexia’s lips. “Are you okay? You seem nervous?” 

Alexia looked like a deer caught in headlights, frozen for a moment before she bobbed her head up and down. “I am fine! Just excited.” 

“If you’re sure.” You looked at her skeptically, briefly reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Anyway, what were you going to say?” 

“Sí, vale.” Alexia nodded, trying to ignore the stares of Mapi and Ingrid and Patri and Pina and Kika and the entire team who were more focused on her than the countdown on the TV. She knew Mapi would open her big mouth and now she had an audience. 

She took another calming breath, letting the attentive look on your face relax her. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, something about liking you or maybe about kissing you, she wasn’t sure, you spoke. 

“Where are your grapes?” You asked, realizing with a jolt that it was a minute to midnight and Alexia was grapeless. 

Alexia froze. “My… what?” 

“Your grapes! The twelve grapes at midnight, under the table in under a minute. Did you forget to bring some? I brought extra, in case anyone forgot theirs, let me go get them–” 

Of course you’d brought grapes for a tradition you didn’t even participate in. It was one of those things that was so thoughtful and so you, Alexia was almost overcome with adoration. She couldn’t wait any longer. She couldn’t pretend any longer. As you turned to rush to the kitchen, knowing you didn’t have much time, Alexia grabbed your hand and spun you back around to face her. 

Your question died in your throat as she cupped your face in her hands and leaned in and kissed you. Kissed you. Alexia kissed you. You were stunned for a moment before your instincts took over and you wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her body flush into yours. It was the most natural thing in the world, kissing Alexia. Feeling her soft lips on yours, her thumbs brushing across your cheekbones. Feeling her. It was… right. She pulled away, her eyes fluttering open and finding yours, just a few inches away. 

You looked awestruck, and she couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not, though she was absolutely sure you’d been kissing her back. Arms still linked together around her neck, you shook your head slightly, as if waking yourself from a daze. 

“You… kissed me.” You murmured. 

“It is New Year's.” Alexia said, biting her lip as she stared at you, waiting for any kind of decisive reaction. 

“It’s not midnight yet.” 

“I could not wait any longer.” 

The voices of the crowd echoed around you, counting down as the clock struck midnight, but all you could do was stare at Alexia in astonishment. You couldn’t really formulate any thought other than… oh my god. 

Words were failing you, so you surged forward, kissing Alexia again. It was even better the second time, if possible. Her arms held you securely against her, and you felt the smile on her face just before she pulled away again. 

“I really like you.” You mumbled, voice barely audible as the countdown ended and everyone cheered, wishing each other a happy new year. 

“I really like you, too.” Alexia replied, pressing her forehead to yours. “I have been wanting to do that for a while.” 

You smiled, too, allowing her to pull you closer. You hugged her tight, pressing your face into her shoulder. You still couldn’t quite believe it. But over Ale’s shoulder, you could see your teammates high-fiving and cheering, and you knew it had nothing to do with the New Year. 

This wasn’t some fever dream. It was real. 

“Your grapes.” You said again, pulling back from the warm hug to look at Alexia. 

She just laughed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I think kissing you is luckier than grapes.” 

You melted at that, pushing a strand of fading blonde hair away from her face. “Kissing on New Year's… kind of cliche, no?” 

Alexia rolled her eyes. “Shut up.” 

Before you could decide whether to shut up or not, she was doing it for you. Alexia kissed you again, ignoring the wolf whistles from your teammates. She’d found her new favorite thing. And if she had to make a resolution, it would be to kiss you every second of every day.

You felt the same; if anything could bring you luck in the New Year… it was Alexia. 

—

i wrote this in like two hours i hope it isn't terrible!!!!

[girlkisser13]

dating dick grayson would include

• dick loves physical affection so whenever he sees you be prepared for some form of touch— pda is not really an issue for him.

• forehead kisses, nose kisses, neck kisses, just so many. he aims to kiss you at least twice a day, it's become a type of ritual that he lives for. sweet kisses, long sensual kisses, make out sessions— just so many.

• damian LOVES you, you're basically a mother figure to him and he will happily challenge grayson for your attention.

• he comes over randomly and sometimes stays the night after patrol because he thinks so highly of you.

• dick is so happy you get along with his family, especially damian, but on some occasions when his little brother stays the night he's a little frustrated since he wanted some personal one on one time with you.

• he puts so much effort into your dates, he's hardly around long enough for you to go on regular ones so when you both have the time you can bet he'll go all out in an attempt to make up for what he's missed.

• if he gets called away for a mission on dates dick is really upset about it. like he'll answer the phone and his face will just drop, you can tell by his expression that's he's got to leave before he even tells you.

• when he gets back he'll do anything for you, make you breakfast in bed, cuddle, kiss you or any other fun suggestions he can think of. <33

• when his is on a mission, he will drop everything he is doing to make sure you’re okay.

• one time, he left jason to fight off a mob alone just because you called to say you stubbed your toe. jason still isn’t over that.

• brags about you quite often, his friends know exactly who you are and totally willing to look out for your safety.

• he buys you a bunch of nightwing merch. nightwing pajamas, nightwing bedsheets, nightwing purses. everything nightwing. sometimes robin.

• he really likes when you wear them, it makes him SOO proud.

• dick LIVES to hear you laugh. there is no joke too dirty, no expression too silly, no story too embarrassing. he will do and say whatever it takes to get you rolling, no matter how foul your mood.

• he loves to be fussed over. when you baby his injuries, neaten his hair/clothes, or barrage him with daily text updates and check-ins, he feels valued. it’s not about clingyness or ego, it’s about feeling prioritized. <33

• so long as you’re not being condescending, every little thoughtful thing you do or say is cataloged and recalled with affection.

• dick would be that kind of boyfriend who would gladly go shopping with you, he would excitedly run through the shop looking for the perfect outfits for you. he would patiently wait until you try on the clothes he chose for you (the whole store) and he would pay for everything.

• he loves if you read to him before bed, you tell him he is such a kid but he just enjoys listening to your voice. if he hears your voice before sleeping he has the sweetest dreams.

• he shows you his acrobatic moves all the time just to impress you.

• like you can’t reach the top of the shelf and instead of just helping you grab the item you need he jumps in the air does like three flips and lands with whatever you need in his hands. he definitely bows after doing this.

• he loves you so much he can't even explain it, but he constantly tries to. <33

[pucksandpower]

Changing Lanes

Charles Leclerc x Horner!Reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc always thought he would spend the rest of his career racing in red. But you make him see that he deserves better than false promises and unrequited love

“Took you long enough,” you say, lounging casually on the small leather couch in Charles’ driver’s room, your fingertips tracing intricate patterns on the cushion beside you.

Charles raises an eyebrow, letting out a dry laugh as he kicks off his shoes. “Every single time I see you, Y/N, you always have something to say.”

You linger on him. “Is it my fault you had to chat with the entire paddock before coming here?”

He smirks, crossing the room. “It’s called being polite. Something you could learn from.”

“Polite?” You scoff, feigning innocence. “Oh, like how Ferrari celebrated that P3 like it was a win? That kind of polite?”

Charles stiffens but he keeps his cool. “We take what we can get.”

You tilt your head, eyes narrowing. “Starting on pole and settling for P3? Charles, you deserve better.”

“I know,” he sighs, avoiding your gaze. “But this is racing. Sometimes it just doesn’t go your way.”

You lean in closer, your voice dropping an octave. “It could, though. If you were with a team that actually valued you, that gave you a car worthy of your talent.”

He looks up, meeting your gaze with a challenge. “You mean Red Bull?”

A coy smile plays on your lips. “It’s not a secret that Dad wants you. And imagine … you, in a competitive car, and me, right by your side as your race engineer.”

Charles’ eyes dart to your lips then back up to your eyes. “Tempting,” he murmurs, leaning in just a fraction closer. “But is this for the team or for you?”

“Can’t it be both?” You whisper back.

His breath hitches and he pulls back slightly. “This isn’t just about racing, is it?”

You hesitate. “I see how they treat you. How they let you down time and time again. But with us ... with me ... it would be different.”

He looks conflicted. “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” You press. “With Red Bull, you’d have support, a competitive car, and … me.”

Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not just about what happens on track. It’s about the politics, the contracts, the media ... it’s all complicated.”

“You make it sound like an impossible puzzle,” you say, tracing circles on his wrist. You gaze locks with his, trying to convey everything you feel.

“It might be.”

You lean in, lips just inches from his. “Then let’s solve it together.”

He hesitates, searching your eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N.”

You smirk, confidence oozing from every pore. “Isn’t that what racing’s all about?”

Charles chuckles softly, the tension in the room slowly melting away. “You always have an answer for everything.”

“It’s the Horner in me,” you retort with a smug smile. “Besides, aren’t you tired of being just another pawn in Ferrari’s game?”

“It’s not easy. To just switch teams, to give up on something you’ve worked for your entire life.”

You reach up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Who says you’re giving up? You’d be making a choice. A choice to be somewhere you’re valued. Somewhere you have a real shot at the championship. With people who truly care about you and actions that reflect that.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just about the racing. There are so many other factors.”

“Like what?”

He opens his eyes, meeting yours. “Like us.”

You blink, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“If I come to Red Bull … if I work with you … it changes everything. Our relationship. Our dynamic. Everything.”

You take a moment, absorbing his words. “We can handle it. We’re strong enough.”

He gives you a sad smile. “I wish I had your confidence.”

You cup his cheek, your thumb stroking his skin. “You have me. Together, we can face anything.”

Charles looks at you for a long moment, his emotions raw and exposed. Finally, he speaks. “I’ll think about it. But whatever I decide … know that it’s not just about racing. I refuse to give you up.”

“Just promise me one thing.”

He raises an eyebrow. “What?”

You lean in, your lips brushing his ear. “Never settle for less than you deserve.”

He smiles, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. “Same goes for you, Y/N Horner.”

***

“I still can’t believe they forgot to remove the radiator blank,” you murmur, your fingers softly tracing patterns on Charles’ bare chest as he lies next to you in his São Paulo hotel. The dim light from the bedside lamp paints soft shadows on his face, emphasizing the frustration in his eyes.

Charles sighs heavily, turning his head to look at you. “Neither can I. Another race, another issue. I don’t even know why I’m surprised anymore.”

You lean in closer, lips brushing against his ear. “You don’t deserve this, Charles. You’re better than this. Better than them.”

He chuckles humorlessly, eyes closing. “It seems like it’s one thing after another.”

“Come to Red Bull,” you whisper, fingertips dancing down his arm. “You know it’s the right move.”

He opens his eyes, looking deep into yours. “Y/N, we talked about this.”

You press a gentle kiss on his jaw, speaking against his skin. “Hear me out. If McLaren overtakes Ferrari in the Constructors’ standings, you can activate your exit clause. You could leave them, Charles.”

Charles swallows hard, feeling the warmth of your breath on his neck. “And if they don’t?”

“Then we’ll buy you out,” you say confidently, trailing kisses down his collarbone. “Dad’s already spoken about it. We want you. I want you.”

Charles’ breath catches as your hands explore his torso but he tries to focus. “Equal status with Max?”

“Of course,” you assure him, pressing your body flush against his. “You and Max, racing side by side. Just think of the possibilities.”

He groans, both from your touch and the tempting offer. “A car designed by Adrian Newey ...”

You nod, “With plenty of oversteer, just how you like it. No more one-sided compromises.”

He laughs softly. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

You smirk, lips hovering over his. “Always. And instead of Xavi, you’d hear my voice on the other end of the radio, guiding you, supporting you.”

Charles captures your lips with his, deepening the kiss before pulling back. “You’re making it very hard to think.”

“That’s the point,” you whisper with a playful grin, your hands tugging at his waistband.

He bites his lip, trying to resist your charms. “But Y/N ... it’s not just about the racing. It’s ... it’s us. What happens to us?”

You cup his cheek, gazing deep into his eyes. “We fight together, we win together. Every podium, every championship, we celebrate together.”

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “You make it sound so perfect.”

“It can be,” you promise, pressing soft kisses on his eyelids. “With Red Bull, you’d have everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And me.”

Charles smiles, caressing your cheek. “You’re very persuasive, you know?”

You grin. “It’s one of my many talents.”

He chuckles, capturing your lips once more. “I’ll think about it.”

“Whatever you decide, I’ll still be by your side.”

He smiles, pulling you closer. “I know. And that’s what makes this decision so hard.”

***

“Absolutely unbelievable,” your father mutters, watching the replay of Ferrari’s disastrous double stack. “You would think they’ve never done a pit stop before.”

You nod, equally shocked. But your attention shifts as the familiar figure of your favorite Monegasque storms into the Red Bull garage, his helmet still on and visor obscuring his face. You can feel the fury emanating from him.

“Charles?” You question hesitantly.

He doesn’t respond to you but instead turns to your father, “Christian, can we talk? Now. Somewhere private.”

Christian looks taken aback by the intensity in Charles’ voice but nods. “Of course.”

Charles glances at you. “You too, Y/N. Please.”

You follow, the weight of the moment heavy on your shoulders. Once inside the small office, Charles finally removes his helmet, revealing eyes red from restrained tears. He takes a moment, collecting himself before he speaks.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Charles exhales. “Every single time I think they’ve hit rock bottom, they find a new low. Today was the last straw.”

You approach him, gently placing a hand on his arm. “Charles, I’m so sorry.”

Your father is equally sympathetic. “That was hard to watch. I can’t even imagine what it felt like.”

Charles closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just today. It’s everything. I gave them everything. I wanted to win with them. For my father. For Jules.”

You swallow hard, emotions swirling. “They would be so incredibly proud of you. No matter what.”

He blinks back tears, voice strained. “I wanted to drive that red car to the top for them. But I can’t keep sacrificing myself for a team that clearly does not value me in return.”

Your father speaks up, “Charles, if you’re thinking of a change ... Red Bull is ready to welcome you with open arms.”

Charles looks up, locking eyes with him. “I know. And as much as Ferrari has been my dream, my home, I can’t do this anymore. I want to be with a team that values me. I want to join Red Bull.”

You’re taken aback by his sudden declaration but the look in his eyes tells you that he’s made up his mind. “Charles,” you whisper, stepping closer. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“It’s hard,” he admits. “But this is where my heart is telling me to go.”

Your father gives the two of you a moment, leaving the office to give you privacy.

Charles takes a shaky breath, pulling you close. “I never imagined leaving Ferrari. But after everything, I know it’s the right decision.”

You wrap your arms around him, resting your forehead against his. “They will be so proud of you, Charles. No matter what colors you wear or what car you drive.”

He smiles weakly. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”

You pull back slightly, searching his eyes. “This is a big step. I don’t want you to regret anything. Are you still sure?”

He nods, determination in his gaze. “More than I’ve ever been.”

You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Then welcome to Red Bull.”

***

“I have to tell Ferrari,” Charles straightens, determination evident in his eyes. “I just need to get it over with. Will you come with me?”

“Of course.“

Charles grabs your hand, pulling you towards his driver’s room. “Wait here,” he says, going in and returning moments later with his Ferrari jacket. He places it over your Red Bull team polo, attempting to keep your allegiance concealed for now. You both then proceed to the debrief room where the Ferrari team is waiting.

Fred Vasseur begins his speech the moment you both enter, “This wasn’t how we wanted to end the year but looking ahead to next season—”

Charles cuts him off, “Actually, there won’t be a next season. Not for me.”

The room falls into a tense silence, all eyes on the driver who has given them his heart and soul.

“What do you mean?”

Charles takes a deep breath, “I’ve decided to leave Ferrari.”

Gasps fill the room. Fred’s eyes land on you, finally noticing the Red Bull logo peeking out from under the jacket you’re borrowing. “And you bring her, of all people, here to tell us this?”

Charles squares his shoulders. “Y/N is here because I asked her to be. This decision is mine and mine alone.”

Xavi stands up, “After everything we’ve done for you! This is how you repay us?”

You can’t hold back any longer. “Everything you’ve done? You mean the countless strategy mistakes, the endless car issues, the complete lack of support?”

Another team member cuts in, “This is not your place, Y/N!”

“It is today,” you retort. “I’m here to support my new driver.”

Charles’ voice shakes but he speaks with conviction, “I gave everything for this team. I bled Ferrari red. But I can’t keep doing this. Not when it’s clear that my effort and commitment is not matched in return.”

Fred’s voice softens. “Charles, we’ve had our challenges but we can overcome them together.”

Charles shakes his head, tears threatening to spill. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m joining Red Bull. My manager will send over the necessary legal paperwork as soon as possible.”

The room is filled with murmurs, disbelief evident on every face. Charles takes one last look around, his eyes filled with pain, and turns to leave.

You follow closely, feeling the weight of every step as you exit the debrief room.

The second you’re around the corner, Charles breaks down. He rests his forehead against the wall, tears rolling down his face silently. “I didn’t ... I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”

You pull him close and try to find the right words. “It was never going to be easy. But you did what you had to. For yourself. For your future.”

He turns to look at you, eyes red-rimmed but determined. “I just wanted to make them proud.”

You cup his cheek, wiping away a tear with your thumb. “They would be proud of you. Not for the badge you wear or the car you drive but for the man you’ve become.”

Charles takes a shaky breath, pulling you into a tight embrace. The two of you stand there for a moment, finding solace in each other’s presence.

When he finally pulls away, he manages a weak smile. “Thank you. For standing by me.”

You squeeze his hand. “Always.”

***

***

***

Charles stands in front of the massive two-story trophy wall at the Red Bull Racing factory in Milton Keynes, eyes wide with wonder. “Ferrari would never do something so ... gaudy.”

You smirk, sidling up next to him. “And yet, you love it.”

“I do,” he laughs. “It’s … different.”

You lean in, whispering conspiratorially, “Well, Ferrari hasn’t had all that much to exhibit in the last two decades. Not for lack of trying from the drivers, of course.”

He playfully nudges you with his elbow, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Cheeky.”

The two of you walk further into the factory. “So,” Charles draws out, “I was wondering if you could recommend a good real estate agent in the area.”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. “Why would you need an agent when I have a perfectly good apartment we can share?”

“Really? Are you sure? I just … I wasn’t sure if you would want that and I don’t want to pressure you.”

You roll your eyes affectionately. “Of course I do, Charles. It’s not even a question.”

He smiles, the weight of the decision to move seeming a little lighter now. “Thank you.”

You wink, taking his hand. “Come on, let me show you around.”

As you guide him through the factory, he’s like a kid in a candy store, eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. “This place is incredible,” he murmurs, running a hand along a piece of machinery.

You grin, pulling him towards the simulator room. “Wait until you see this.”

He steps inside, eyes immediately drawn to the impressive simulator setup. “Wow.”

You gesture for him to sit down, watching as he takes a seat, adjusting the settings. “Ready for your first sim run in the RB20?”

He nods eagerly, “Let’s do it.”

As he starts the simulation, you watch closely, monitoring the data and providing feedback. The two of you work seamlessly together, the connection between race engineer and driver already forming and growing.

After several runs, Charles steps out of the simulator, a huge grin on his face. “That was incredible! The car feels amazing.”

You smile. “I’m glad you think so. The team has put a lot of work into it.”

He pulls you into a hug, burying his face in your hair. “I can’t wait to get on track with you on the other side of the radio.”

You pull back, looking into his eyes. “Me too. We’re going to do great things together. I know it.”

He nods. “I know we will too.”

***

“I have to admit,” Charles says, eyes scanning the paddock, “I’m thankful that Mercedes and McLaren are between our motorhome and Ferrari’s. Makes things less ... awkward.”

You glance towards the distant red of the mobile Ferrari building, understanding the sentiment. “Must be weird being so close and yet so far.”

He nods, a hint of melancholy in his gaze as he looks at the place he called home for so long. “It’s bittersweet.”

Pulling him from his thoughts, you nudge him playfully. “Come on, Mr. Pole-Sitter. We have a race to prep for.”

Charles smirks, playfully rolling his eyes. “Always so professional, Miss Horner.”

You grin. “Only when it counts.”

The atmosphere in the Red Bull garage is electric. Mechanics and engineers hustle around, getting everything ready. The RB20 sits gleaming, waiting for its moment to shine.

Charles adjusts his gloves, taking a deep breath. “Feels different,” he admits, looking at you. “Being here, in this car, with this team. But a good kind of different.”

You lean in, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You’ve got this. It’s just another race.”

He smiles. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one in the hot seat.”

“True, but I’ll be with you every step of the way. Just listen to my voice and trust me.”

“I always do.”

As he gets into the car, you lean in closer to his helmet, your lips touching it’s hard shell. “And Charles? Stay safe out there.”

He looks at you and winks. “I’ll come back to you.”

The race begins with a burst of energy. Charles takes off from pole, holding his position as the field jockeys for placement behind him.

“Good start,” you say through the radio, your voice calm and composed. “Keep it steady.”

“Copy.”

The race is intense, with Charles and Max battling for the lead, their cars dancing on the edge of perfection. The radio chatter between the two of you flows naturally, filled with technical details, strategy adjustments, and the occasional personal quip.

“Feeling the heat from Max?” You tease after a particularly close call between the two Red Bulls.

Charles laughs breathlessly. “Just keeping things interesting for the fans.”

The race continues at a blistering pace, with Charles and Max pushing each other to the limit. But through it all, Charles remains in the lead, with you guiding him from the pit wall.

“Final lap,” you inform. “Bring it home.”

He nods, pushing the car to its limit. The cheers of the crowd grow louder as he crosses the finish line, securing his first victory with Red Bull.

“Amazing job, Charles! I knew you could do it!”

He lets out a whoop of joy. “Yes! Thank you, team. Thank you, Y/N. I couldn’t have done it without you all.”

The two of you celebrate the victory, and as the rose water sprays and the cheers of the crowd fill the air, you know that this is just the beginning of an incredible journey together.

***

“You’re sure about the medium tyres, Y/N?” Charles asks nervously as he looks at the other cars lining up. “Everyone else is starting on softs.”

You nod confidently, tapping the race strategy on your clipboard. “Yes. The upside of using the mediums is it gives us flexibility. We can extend our first stint if needed, especially with possible rain on the forecast. While everyone else has to pit early for hards and then again for inters when the rain starts, we’ll only have to pit once. Trust me.”

He inhales deeply, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside. “I do trust you. It’s just ... Ferrari ... the strategies there ...”

“I know,” you interrupt softly, understanding the trauma and distrust years with Ferrari had instilled in him. “But this isn’t Ferrari. It’s Red Bull and we work differently. I’ve got your back.”

“Alright,” he looks into your eyes, finding assurance and conviction there, “let’s do this.”

The race begins, and Charles holds his ground well on the medium tyres, though the drivers running softs initially show quicker pace. But as predicted, the clouds soon darken and the threat of rain becomes increasingly evident.

“Stay focused,” you guide through the radio. “Remember the plan.”

He pushes on, expertly handling the streets of Monaco. The cars around him begin to lose grip and one by one they dive into the pits for hard tyres.

Charles keeps lapping. He moves up the order.

“You’re doing great,” you encourage. “Stick to the plan. We’re right on schedule.”

However, as the first raindrops begin to fall, panic sets in among the other teams on the grid. Those who just pitted for hard tyres are forced to pit again for intermediate tyres, losing precious time.

“Now,” you command, “Box this lap.”

He follows your instruction, driving into the pits, and with a flawless stop by his Red Bull crew, re-emerges in the lead.

The rain continues but Charles navigates the treacherous streets of Monaco expertly, maintaining his lead. When the chequered flag waves, it’s Charles who crosses the line first and finally claims victory at his home Grand Prix.

Tears of joy and relief pour from Charles’ eyes as he takes in the moment. “Thank you,” he says over the radio, voice choked with emotion. “I can’t believe it. We did it in Monaco!”

You smile, tears in your own eyes. “We did. I told you to trust me, didn’t I?”

He laughs, the sound full of pure joy. “You did. And I’m so glad I did. Thank you for everything.”

As he steps out of the car and jumps on its nose, arms spread wide, the crowd roars in approval, their prince finally crowned in his home race.

Then he rushes to the barriers and jumps into the cheering crowd of dark blue waiting for him. When his sweaty lips find yours surrounded by the celebrating Red Bull team, you take a moment to whisper a promise, “This is just the beginning. It will only get better from here.”

***

The season flies by in a blur of champagne showers. Heading into the Italian Grand Prix, Charles find himself leading the Drivers’ Championship with Max nipping at his heels.

“I’m not sure I can do this,” Charles confesses, staring out at the Autodromo Nazionale Monza. “This was home. I don’t know how they will react now that I’m no longer wearing red.”

You rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Many fans support the driver, not just the color he wears.”

He takes a deep breath and looks over the crowd. “The Tifosi are different. They bleed Ferrari red. I’m afraid they will see me only as a traitor.”

“You gave them your all,” you counter. “They’ve seen the struggles. They know why you left. They understand. Trust in them and in yourself.”

As the two of you make your way towards the paddock, the familiar chorus of cheers fills the air. But instead of the jeers and boos he feared, a chant begins to rise among the crowd of red: “Charles! Charles! Charles!”

Charles stops in his tracks. “They’re ... they’re cheering for me.”

You nod, a smile playing on your lips. “Told you.”

He’s soon swarmed by a group of fans, all clamoring for autographs, photos, and just a moment of his time. It’s clear that the bond between Charles and the Tifosi remains unbroken.

An older fan steps forward, his Ferrari cap worn with age. “You are still Il Predestinato. We wish it ended differently but we have eyes. We watched the races. We know why you left. No matter what team you drive for, you always have our hearts.”

Charles blinks back tears, deeply touched. “Grazie,” he whispers and claps the fan’s weathered hands in thanks.

Another fan, a young girl with a homemade sign that reads Once a Tifosi, Always a Tifosi, shyly approaches. “We still love you, Charles,” she says.

He kneels down to give her a gentle hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs, taking off his Red Bull cap and placing it on her head.

As the day goes on, the support from the Tifosi only grows. They cheer for him during practice, during qualifying, and every time he appears in front of the stands.

It’s clear that the bond between Charles and the Tifosi is as strong as ever.

That evening, as the two of you sit in the garage looking over data, Charles reflects on his day. “I was so afraid,” he admits. “Afraid of being rejected, of losing their love. But today ... today was incredible.”

You close the analytics. “The Tifosi love you. Not because of the car you drive or the colors you wear but because of who you are. Just like I do.”

He nods slowly. “It’s overwhelming. Monza has always been special to me. To feel this level of love and support ... it’s more than I ever expected.”

You lean closer, resting your head on his shoulder. “They see your passion. They see how much you give on and off the track. Anyone who does not love and respect you for that needs to reconsider.”

He exhales slowly, “I just ... I wanted to make them proud, to win for them in red and bring glory back to Maranello. But knowing they still support me no matter what ... it means everything.”

You look up into his eyes. “And they always will. Because they know you always gave and will continue to give your best. They love you because they are loved in return.”

He laughs, pulling you into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. “For always being my rock, especially in moments like these.”

“Now let’s go out there tomorrow and win.”

***

“Vegas, baby!” Charles shouts, swinging an arm around your shoulders, both of you holding champagne glasses that have been refilled one too many times.

You giggle, distinctly feeling all of the alcohol you’ve consumed. “We won! We did it!”

Charles laughs, pulling you closer. “We did! And do you know what people do when they’re in love and win in Vegas?”

You think about it for a moment, a mischievous glint appearing in your eyes. “Get ... married?”

Charles nods enthusiastically. “Exactly! Y/N Horner, will you marry me tonight?”

You don’t hesitate, “Hell yes!”

The two of you, in your drunken stupor, begin your mission to find a wedding chapel. However, before you can get very far, Max spots you and quickly catches on to what you’re planning.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Max exclaims, grabbing Charles by the shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going with Y/N?”

Charles replies with a sloppy grin, “To make her Mrs. Leclerc!”

Max bursts into laughter, trying to play the voice of reason. “Mate, as much fun as that sounds, I think you might want to sleep on that idea.”

But you’re not having it. “No, Max! We’re in love and it’s Vegas. We’re doing it!”

Before the conversation can escalate further, your father joins the fray, looking both amused and concerned. “What on earth is going on here?”

Max chuckles, “Your daughter and Charles here have some ... ambitious plans for the evening.”

You pout and stumble slightly, “Daddy, we want to get married! Right now!”

Your father’s eyebrows shoot up. “Married? Tonight? Seriously?”

Charles nods with absolute seriousness, though his precarious swaying contradicts his tone. “Christian, I love your daughter. And we won. In Vegas. So ... wedding?”

Your father places a firm hand on his driver’s shoulder. “Listen, Charles, I have no doubt about your feelings for Y/N. But my baby girl deserves the world. When and if you ever decide to propose, I expect you to get down on one knee, stone-cold sober, and ask her properly.”

Charles blinks, processing the words. “But ... Vegas?”

You laugh and go to hug your father, almost falling over in the process. “He’s right. Let’s just enjoy tonight. And if we still feel like getting married in the morning, we can discuss it then.”

Max smirks, “Trust me, you’ll thank us in the morning. If you can even remember this conversation, that is.”

***

“Charles,” you begin, your voice echoing in his helmet, “The team has made the call. You and Max are free to race. No team orders.”

There’s a pause on the other end. “Understood. May the best man win.”

The tension in the garage skyrockets as soon as the lights go out. It’s evident that this is going to be an epic battle from the very first turn. Max and Charles swap places multiple times, pushing their cars to the very edge of their limits.

“Breathe,” you remind him calmly as the laps go by, “Don’t loose sight of the race as a whole. There’s a championship at stake.”

The entire race is a blur of overtakes, pit strategies, and nail-biting moments. The two Red Bull cars battle wheel-to-wheel lap after lap. One side of the garage against the other.

Coming into the final laps, Charles is right on Max’s tail — the championship hanging in the balance between them.

You know there’s not much you can do to guide him anymore … it’s all up to Charles.

“Last lap,” you try to sound composed despite the pounding of your heart. “You can do this.”

The cheers and gasps of the crowd are deafening as Charles makes his move, taking the inside line and overtaking Max on the penultimate turn.

“Push now! Just a few more corners.”

As Charles crosses the finish line, the enormity of the moment crashes over both of you.

“Charles Leclerc,” you scream over the radio as tears stream down your face, “you are the World Champion!”

“Yeeeesssss! Yes! Yes! I ... I can’t believe it. This is ... thank you, everyone. To the entire Red Bull team, you’ve given me the chance to chase and achieve my dreams. To my friends, my family, to every single person who’s been by my side, believed in me, and supported me … thank you. And Y/N, you’ve been my rock and my oxygen. Without you, this wouldn’t have been possible. Thank you! Thank you. Thank you so much!”

***

“Whew! That was a lot of rose water!” Charles laughs, wiping the bubbly liquid from his eyes.

You chuckle and try to wring out your hair. “You didn’t have to drench me, you know!”

Charles grins cheekily. “It’s a special occasion, after all. Both of us on this podium? It’s a dream!”

Then suddenly, he turns serious and signals to his brother in the crowd below, who throws him a small leather box. Charles catches it and promptly lowers himself down on one knee in front of you, making the crowd fall into a stunned silence.

“I tried this in Vegas,” he starts with a laugh, “But I might have been too drunk and missed a few pretty important steps.”

Charles takes a deep breath and his eyes lock onto yours, saying everything that words would never be sufficient to. “Y/N, being on this podium with you, winning the World Championship, it’s the pinnacle of my career. But what we have ... it’s the pinnacle of my life. I can’t imagine going on this journey with anyone else, facing the highs, the lows, the in-betweens. Will you marry me?”

Tears flow steadily down your cheeks and you nod with a fervor that would make bobbleheads jealous, “Yes! There’s no one else I’d want to spend forever with.”

The crowd erupts into cheers and applause, the deafening roar echoing around the Yas Marina Circuit. Max gives a loud whistle, his face lit up with a big grin next to you on the podium stage.

Charles rises to his feet and pulls you close, attacking your lips as the crowd goes wild.

“Promise me we won’t head to a chapel right after this race?” You joke, sniffling and giggling at the same time.

Charles laughs, looking slightly sheepish. “I promise, mainly because I’m too young to die and your father would definitely kill me if I even thought about pulling the stunt we tried in Vegas again. You deserve a fairytale wedding.”

You press your face against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat as fireworks explode overhead. “All I need for my fairytale is you.”

[myauntspen]

I’m thinking that the conversation on the wall as the humans made their way away from Eden was a major formative moment for Crowley.

When Crowley says “You’re an angel, I don’t think you CAN do the wrong thing,” he is absolutely yanking Aziraphale’s chain. The book explicitly says it’s sarcasm and in the show, David Tennant’s delivery makes that clear with his smirk and sneery tone.

But when Aziraphale innocently takes the comment at face value, Crowley lets him think it was sincere. It’s his first act of kindness toward Aziraphale. My reading is that Crowley is happily surprised that an angel would allow himself to be comforted by his words and it takes away his desire to tease. He got his first little taste of doing good AND HE LIKED IT!

That interaction is perhaps the first time Crowley realized that he’s not necessarily cut out for sowing misery.

Also, consider his shock at Aziraphale’s admission.

Crowley was told to come to Eden and make trouble so he did. He doesn’t seem to have thought about it at all, just got an order and executed it. What if learning that Aziraphale has given his sword away is the thing that makes Crowley realize that he, too, can make his own unexpected decisions.

It was Crowley that gave free will to the humans, but maybe it was Aziraphale that made Crowley realize that he could also have free will. Even though Aziraphale hasn’t embraced his free will, he has perhaps just given Crowley the impetus he needed to do so.

And later, Crowley returned the favor when he explained about going along as much as you can. That was painful for Aziraphale but helped him to be more himself. It was a moment when he realized, like Crowley on the wall, that if doing good means breaking the rules sometimes, then sometimes that’s what must be done. In his guilt and fear, he didn’t put that together in Eden, but Crowley showed him at Uz.

Anyway, I’m rambling, but these two have made each other better, and happier, since the world existed and that’s just lovely.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Falling asleep on Konig's shoulder

(Very self-indulgent because I'm literally on a night train from Vienna rn) Getting the last ticket to the table section of the train - you thought you could have a quick snack, maybe drink some water or get a coffee from a friendly train worker. Get your laptop out and use the free space next to you to work a little bit. You weren't as lucky, of course - with the train being late and with a huge guy sitting on the seat next to you. Probably reserved in time, unlike you. Probably didn't struggle with staying awake as much as you did. You honestly wanted to work. Be productive, get on that grind and growth mindset, and provide value to the company even on the late-night train. The moment you showed your tickets, however, everything went out the window. You're not sure you even managed to put your laptop back in your bag when you went out, your head dropping forward as you indulged in a feverish, groggy nap. Konig saw how tired you were - he felt awkward even sitting next to you, thinking about giving up his place and offering it to you, so you could rest your legs and don't look like a shrimp in your seat. He didn't even care that he did pay for his reservation - he almost thought about, maybe, scaring away some dumb fucks from the other seat, making sure you get a place to rest. But, oh, Konig is a selfish man. Anxious in his desire to get you all to himself, even if he doesn't know your name. It all can come later- when he'd get you a coffee from the train restaurant or drive you home if he'd get lucky enough to get off at the same station as you. Your head drops on his shoulder - he never felt something as soft as you, pressing to his skin. Your full body weight is setting down on his shoulder, and Konig already feels like he won't be able to survive without having you next to him, hugging him, smiling at him. Nuzzling your face in his chest and letting him give you the world simply because you fucking deserve this. Deserve him, so close to you - fucking god, he can't wait to have you all to himself and... Ah, fuck. There is a pretty girl sleeping on his shoulder during a train ride, and Konig just got a raging boner. He fucking hates himself sometimes - getting too excited, never having enough. Wanting to take your body in his lap and force his cock in your inviting pussy. You'd look so cute, all sleepy and drowsy on his dick - maybe you'd even cry a little, making it all the cuter. Maybe, if he is lucky, you'd be just exhausted enough to follow him to his place. Did he make his bed when he went on the mission? Fuck, it was almost two weeks out of his place, it probably looks like shit. Smells like shit, certainly. He can't bring a girl in this place, he has to get a hotel, maybe a fancy one, with a pool, but then you would think he is doing hookups or is cheating on his wife or lives with his parents or- You snuggle closer to his shoulder, searching for warmth, and he almost feels like cumming in his pants. Shit, he can't help himself, can he? Can't even muster the courage to ask you for your number. Maybe when you wake up, so he could just...ah, but he kind of likes being your pillow. Can imagine himself in the same position ten years from now. Let's just say, when you do wake up - with your phone and your laptop safely tucked away in your bag - you won't exactly be going home. Konig does want to know you a bit more, after all.

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

The Prophet spoke, and the faithful knelt

Summary : You would never be a hero for Zaun, a revolutionary, a leader. But you would care for your prophet with every single breath your body would allow.

Pairing : Viktor x Reader

Word count : 3.2K

Warning : Explicit

You couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at you with something other than disgust.

The bumps on your skin were large and deformed, like warts on a toad's back. Dark, unnatural purple spots had consumed most of your body, your veins glowing faintly inside your flesh. Staring at them, pulsating like worms making their way through your organs, still gave you unparalleled nausea. You were the kind of monster little children of Piltover feared in the shadowy corners of their bedroom, and you couldn't remember a time when it had been otherwise

The others like you all lived in small, crummy camps, where the warmth of a teared-up blanket was something worth killing your neighbour for. If the value of human life was close to none in Zaun, here, it was worth absolutely nothing.

A wasteland inside a wasteland.

Most lived off scraps left by bars; there were few other ways to get food. The familiar feeling of hunger digging its sharp claws into your stomach had never lessened. For water, there were only the thick metal pipes, going above to supply the golden city, which sometimes leaked drinkable but rusty liquid.

The best days, the only bearable days, were those where you found half-used needles of shimmer in the trash. For a few blissful hours, you were someone else, somewhere else, and nothing in the world could hurt you. Then it was back to being cold, hungry, and alone.

You had tried to live a semblance of a life, once, when the craving for shimmer hadn't been so all-consuming. But addicts were bad for business: customers didn't like seeing them, with their empty eyes and malformed bodies, and they were a very poor investment for an employer. How many months, or days, before they would abandon their job in favour of chasing their never-ending high?

Then there were the whore houses. One could get a few pieces of copper, if their body wasn't too ravaged by the drug. Damaged goods still sell, but for a fraction of the price. And yet there it was no better either: patrons would come in, use you, and leave, without ever looking you in the eye. Like you were less than human.

But not him.

He looked at you without ever flinching, without ever shying away. There was no sign of disgust or pity in those strange eyes of his, but an endless compassion, something that went beyond your comprehension. As if a simple glance at you had allowed him to read every corner of your soul.

You could have sworn time had stopped the second he locked eyes with you. In the warm amber of his pupils swayed a reflection of pale blue, like sunset on the ocean.

You had fallen to your knees without ever willing your body to do so, pressing your forehead against the cold gravel. It feels natural, almost instinctive, to bow in the presence of a god. For what other word could describe him, his presence, his aura?

Did someone like you, ugly, broken, filthy, deserve to see beauty like this?

A gentle hand brought your face back up towards the sky, lithe fingers tucked under your chin. Soft, so soft.

His eyes were back into yours, the sunset having morphed into a pool of liquid gold. Tears had begun to fall from your eyes, rolling down your scarred cheeks and onto his delicate hands. He shushed you before you attempted to speak, like he already knew whatever words you would tell him.

“It's alright. I will take care of you.”

The digits slid slowly across your face, impossibly smooth, and you couldn't help but nuzzle into the touch, revelling in the feeling of a sensation you had all but forgotten. He softly pushed the dirty hood off your face, hand settling on top of your matted hair. You closed your eyes; whatever this man was willing to give you, be it salvation or judgement, you simply knew you were ready to accept it.

And then, everything became light.

—

You saw him perform miracle after miracle following that day. He brought people back from the depths of hell, which they'd lived in for so long, with the simple touch of a hand. He brought back the smiles, the joy, and the hope all of you had given up on.

To your community, he was everything.

The familiar presence of his voice called for you inside your mind. It was so comforting, having him there, feeling him as a part of you. Knowing he would never leave you, that he would never let you be alone again.

He looked like a statue when you found him, seated in his cave, still and ethereal beyond your mortal comprehension. The gods had crafted his face from porcelain; his body from the world's most precious metals; his eyes from the sun and the sea; and his smile with the very essence of magic.

“Here you are. I was beginning to worry.”

That was not true; both of you knew very well you had heard his voice and were rushing to come to his side. Yet, the idea that a being such as him would worry about someone like you made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Herald?”

“Mm?”

He blinked, calmly, peacefully, as his eyes met yours once more. No other feeling compared. His pupils glowed inside the barely lit cave, a gentle and divine light emanating from his face.

The words were hard to get out, and you found yourself fidgeting with your hands, looking away from his perfect gaze.

Get a hold of yourself, you admonished your brain. You had practiced this moment more than once.

You were certain he knew exactly what you were about to ask him; he knew every thought going through your mind, after all. Which meant he knew of the nights you spent dreaming of him, of his body, and of the hundreds of ways you craved the touch of your messiah.

But he simply looked at you, calm and composed, the hint of a smile barely on his lips.

Briefly, you wondered if he was teasing you by letting you stew in your anxiety.

“I have come to realize,” you began unsurely, voice almost breaking, “that you always take care of others, Herald. Always take care of people like me.”

He observed you with that indecipherable gaze, still not moving an inch. You gathered all your courage to stare back at him as you pronounced your next words decidedly:

“But does nobody take care of you, Herald?”

He smiled, properly this time, yet still calm and moderate. It was beyond beautiful, his delicate features marked by soft dimples, the hint of a mole over his lips. You would have given your life in a heartbeat if it meant he would have smiled at you like this once more.

“I don't require such things anymore,” he explained serenely, fingers absentmindedly tracing the complex patterns of his arm. “This body doesn't feel cold, or hunger, or want. It is pure of all the desires the man I once was might have had.”

You swallowed with difficulty; was he rejecting your advances? You could not bear living without knowing you had done everything for him, given him every inch of your being.

“But that man,” you tried once more, moving a timid step forward, “he is still part of you, isn't he? Wouldn't it only be fair to take care of him too?’

There was not a hint of confusion in his expression; he understood exactly what you meant. Yet one of his eyebrows had slightly risen, perhaps of amusement or appreciation for your boldness.

“If you have something in mind,” he simply replied, his thick accent hypnotic, “you should show me.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

You would show him what his gift had meant to you.

Gradually, reverently, you approached the frugal throne where he sat, a simple rock formation at the back of the cave. You kneeled at his feet and gazed up, unsure if you were allowed to touch him. He gave you a light nod, a glim of endearment in his eyes.

With deference, you slid the fabric of his tunic to the side, parting his knees to give you access. You felt your cheeks heat at the realization he had no underwear, trepidation bubbling in your lower stomach. Then you stopped right in your tracks.

Where there should have been… something, there was nothing.

Your mouth opened in surprise, but no words managed to find their way out. You spluttered, confused, gaping at the being above you.

A low, small chuckle.

His luminous eyes were teasing, barely enough so that someone else would not have recognized it; but you did.

“I could not resist to watch your reaction,” he admitted, “My apologies.”

His delicate hand covered the area of his groan, and a faint light shone between the cracks of his fingers. The sound of metal forming, pieces sliding with one another, echoed inside the empty cave. When he removed his hand, it was as if the member had always been there.

As you had always pictured in your dreams, the Herald was well endowed, even in a softened state. It was without question like a regular human’s, but devoid of any veins, marks, and bumps. Not a single hair adorned the base. It was all perfectly smooth, the head only distinct from the rest of the length with its thickness.

He was art, in the most primordial sense of the term, and you could do nothing but admire him.

“This body shapes to my will,” the Herald explained at your look of awe, “It had no need for genitalia, so it did not have any. At least… before now.”

Your fingertips slid timidly on the indigo skin, feeling the polished texture. The contact felt pleasantly electric, like his body brimmed with untapped energy. The first small lick was somehow nostalgic, the feel of popping candies bursting pleasantly on your tongue.

When you wrapped your lips around him, you could immediately tell his taste was unlike anything you'd ever had before. The coppery flavour of metal mixed with something so enticingly sweet it could not be anything other than the taste of the arcane itself. An encouraging hand petted your head softly, fingers threading through strands of your hair. You moaned with your mouth still full of him; a single touch from him was enough to have your core burnt with want. You sped up your pace, taking as much of him in your mouth as you possibly could. The energy pulsated against your tongue, his cock hardening to your rhythmic pace. The thickness of his tip kept hitting the back of your throat, cutting oxygen for a few blissful milliseconds at a time and making you see stars.

It was perfect.

And yet, after a few minutes, you realized something was wrong.

You'd been with your fair share of men and women before. The twitching, the moaning, the cramping of the thighs from the building pleasure and the coming release- it was all absent.

You pulled back with a soft ‘pop’, looking up at your prophet once more for guidance. The same all-knowing visage stared back at you, that boundless compassion he had for all mankind. You understood what was happening, now.

“Herald,” you said slowly, voice horse from taking him, “why have you called me today?”

Silence. It looked as though he was thinking over his next words, choosing how best to explain things to you.

“I could sense you needed guidance,” he finally answered, “Support. I merely wanted to help in the way you needed me.”

Helping you. He was helping you once again. Even now, when you begged him to let you help him, he was still only thinking of others.

“You're not satisfied,” the Herald deduced from your crestfallen expression, “Why?”

Tears of frustrated devotion prickled the corner of your eyes, and you felt like a pathetically pouting child:

“My goal was not to satisfy myself. It was to please you.”

Perhaps you had dreamed it, but a glimmer of surprise flashed in his sunset gaze, gone too soon for you to ever be certain.

“Allow me to try once again, please. I will do better,” you requested, resting your head against his inner thigh, his cock still perfectly hard against your cheek. Looking up at him from under your eyelashes, you whispered your next words like a prayer, hoping it would reach him: “It is all I want to do from the deepest part of my heart.”

The smile again, so slight and yet so luminous. Perhaps he hadn't cured your addiction to shimmer, and had simply replaced it with the profound need of him. A drug you never wanted to be freed from.

“Very well,” he acquiesced, voice low, “you may do it again.”

This time, you could tell there was a genuine look of surprise in his neutral expression when you stood. ‘So he can't tell my thoughts immediately as I have them,’ you reflected silently. ‘I can use that.’

It was without asking that you made your way onto his lap, legs bent on both sides of his thighs. The position wasn't very comfortable, rocks digging into your knees; but he was so close to you that you felt the warmth of the arcane emanating from every pore of his body. The pleased look he gave you at your initiative made you feel emboldened, and you guided his cock to your entrance, lining yourself to slowly slide down on his length.

“I do not wish to interrupt,” the Herald made you pause, thick eyebrows furrowed in slight worry, “or to appear to stroke my ego, either. But I believe it would be wise to… prepare yourself, prior to taking me.”

You looked away in embarrassment, confidence fading, not wanting to reply directly. To explain how you had prepared yourself for him in your tent, in the slim hopes this moment might happen, would certainly be the death of you.

His eyebrows rose back up, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. He understood.

“I almost forgot how prepared you always are. Clever girl.”

You felt yourself tighten at the compliment. You committed the words to memory, engraving them in your mind forever. You would never forget when your Herald had praised you.

You patiently lowered yourself onto him, inch by inch, getting accustomed to him. A little shamefully, there was an undeniable selfishness of wanting this moment to last as long as possible.

When you took him whole, it was almost too overwhelming to bear.

His size was an undeniable component, both in length and girth. You had to wonder: had he been so big when he was but a regular man?

‘Yes’, a familiar voice supplied in your head. Had you not known better, you could have sworn his tone was slightly cocky.

But it wasn't just his dick, either. The flow of energy running through you from the point of your connection was dizzyingly intense, coherent thoughts barely stringing together. It felt like the high of shimmer but unbelievably more potent, simultaneously cutting you open and putting your body back together. This was being alive.

“Breathe,” he reminded you, a guiding hand sliding to the small of your back. Even now, he still took such good care of you. Overwhelmed tears had begun to fall down your eyes without you sensing their presence, and you tried to regain some semblance of your senses.

For a while, minutes, maybe hours, only the sound of your panting resonated through the cave. You gripped the Herald's shoulders tightly, scrunching the fabric of his tunic in your fists. His impartial expression never changed, but neither did the way his hand held you in place and comforted you. Once it felt as though your lungs were getting air again, you began moving.

All of it seemed like a dream; the feeling of fullness between your legs, the slow drag of his cock inside you, the warm wetness of your juices slipping out with each trust. If there was no heaven for sinners, then you had found your own right here. You picked up the pace, settling into a fast and wild rhythm. You scanned his features for any sign of disturbance; the slightest hint of red coloured his pale cheeks, the faintest laboured breath coming from his lips.

So he was still a bit human, after all.

You kept moving with renewed vigour, not able to contain wanton moans of pleasure.

“May I try something?” he asked, voice low, deeper than you had ever heard him speak.

You let out a sound of approval that dissolved into nonsense when the tip of his cock hit the spot you had carefully been avoiding. This time, he moved, ramming over and over against your cervix, too deep for comfort, shaping you to him and only him. You were so close, right on the edge, begging him for release with gibberish.

He had undeniably felt your incoming demise, and with one last push inside your core, he leaned his head forward, bringing both of your foreheads together.

In that moment, you were him as much as he was you, a single mind in perfect balance. You saw everything he saw, felt everything he felt. The weight and lightness of the cosmos, the thousands of strings connecting him to his followers, the understanding of the final step for humanity.

The Glorious Evolution.

And with that, you came, body spasming uncontrollably against his. You fell into the crook of his neck in exhaustion, sobbing, wondering if you had just died in your prophet's arms. Far away, as if he was in another room, you heard his comforting voice shushing your whines, his long fingers caressing your cheek. He looked at you as if you were the one to be admired. Too much, it was all too much.

Perhaps an eternity had passed as you came back to your senses. Things felt tangible once more, corporal, the now cold feeling of your wetness drying on your inner thighs. There was a feeling of awkwardness, of embarrassment, and you hesitated between staying still or pulling him out of you. Were there proper steps to follow after something like this, or any steps at all?

“You didn't…” you commented, unsure what proper term to use to not seem crass.

You didn't cum. You didn't fill me.

“I am not certain that would still be biologically possible for me,” he answered with little emotion, seemingly neither bothered nor frustrated by that fact.

Even if he hadn't been linked to your mind, your disappointment would have been palpable. You had wanted him to experience some of the relief he had given you, to release all that could have troubled him inside you. You wanted to care for him.

Selfishly, perhaps, there had also been the want to carry your prophet's seed so no one would ever question who you belonged to.

“However, to the extent this body can still feel pleasure…” he continued, not missing a beat, otherworldly gaze deep in yours, “you took great care of me. Thank you.”

This time, you smiled.

You would never be a hero for Zaun, a revolutionary, a leader. But you would care for your prophet with every single breath your body would allow.

And there was nothing more important to you than that.

[archangeldyke-all]

Sevika and tarotreader!reader. Reader showing up in Zaun all of a sudden. Basically taking residence in a dark corner of the last drop. Sevika may have seen them from the corner of the eye but never played much mind until rumors spread that their prediction always come true. Sevika, who may not believe in fate, is intrigued.

i love this so much hehehe

men and minors dni

technically, all magic, whether it's derived from the arcane, divination, or religion; is outlawed in piltover and zaun.

technically.

but realistically, you and every other person you know with any kind of magical gift are highly valued commodities for the wealthy families in the city.

you see, good business decisions and solutions to political struggles are rarely born out of human ingenuity. nine times out of ten, if the city of progress is making any progress at all; it's because the powerful and wealthy have double and triple checked with their various psychics, priests, and mages that whatever they have planned will be beneficial to them, too.

for a while, you made some real good money working as mrs. kirraman's personal tarot reader.

you were under the assumption that because you avoided consulting her on any political or financial matter, that your background as a zaunite wouldn't come into question when you give your (sometimes hard to hear) fortunes and advice.

but when the cards started letting you in on secrets mrs. kirraman wasn't keen on letting out ((and yes i'm talking about @micronreadzztuff22 's garnet-- an oc that's having an affair with cassanda eheh)) the woman you once admired for her ventilation systems in your home city shows you a nasty side of herself.

"mrs. kirraman... i don't mean to accuse you of anything... but the cards are asking you to be careful about any secrets you might not want getting out."

"pardon?" the woman asked, her face paling in the candlelight.

"i... i worry your husband's growing suspicious of y-your... loyalty."

"what, exactly, are you accusing me of?"

"i'm not judging you, ma'am, and i promise you all my clients have my full confidenti--"

"who put you up to this?!"

"n-nobody. it's in the cards."

"oh, i should've known better than to trust some scamming sump-rat--"

"ex-cuse me?! mrs. kirraman, i've been advising you for three years, and the cards have never led you or i astray--"

"i recommend you shut your mouth and leave the premise before i call for security." she said as she stormed out of the room.

so, that was the end of that gig. you left the premise in the strong arms of a kirraman guard, muttering about summoning janna and cursing the family and woman. of course, you aren't capable of casting curses, but you enjoyed the spooked look your empty threats got out of her as you were dragged off of her property.

it's for the best. or at least, that's what the cards tell you.

you've got a little shop set up in the undercity now, just across the street from the last drop in the heart of zaun. your busiest hours are the evenings when people stumble out of the bar, a little buzzed and needing some advice.

business is fine. you're happy to be working back at home. you just can't help but feel like you're missing something.

and then you meet sevika.

from the moment she steps into your shop, you know she's gonna be trouble for you. she's all skeptical and guarded, looking at you like she can't tell if you're crazy or scamming her. it's hilarious.

"care for a reading?" you ask.

she raises an eyebrow at you. "...so are you a psychic or...?"

you chuckle. "a tarot reader. i don't read minds, just cards."

"hm." sevika sits down at the counter. "alright, fine. how much are you chargin'?" she asks. you chuckle.

"depends how hard your question is."

"what am i doin' tomorrow night?" sevika asks. you roll your eyes and shake your head, pulling two cards. wheel of fortune and the devil. you chuckle.

"gambling?" you guess.

sevika smirks. "easy guess."

"fuck off. you got a question or what?" you ask. sevika sighs.

"what do you know about silco?"

"i told you i'm not a psychic--"

"no no--" sevika cuts you off with a laugh. "i mean, you've heard of him, right?"

"sure." you say, nodding.

"he... might be interested in hiring you as an advisor." sevika mutters. you chuckle.

"you don't sound too happy about it."

"i don't believe in psychics."

"oh, janna, this is gonna be miserable, isn't it?" you groan. sevika huffs a laugh.

it isn't until you've been working with silco for a full month that sevika starts to respect your predictions' accuracy.

it takes another month for her to start being friendly to you.

and then, by month three, sevika's one of your closest friends.

and she asks for a reading.

"you sure you trust me?" you ask with a giggle as you shuffle your deck. sevika huffs and rolls her eyes.

"i've seen the shit you predict for silco. you knew finn was gonna flip before we even knew he was upset. c'mon, give me your worst."

you chuckle a bit, then flip a card. "huh." you mumble. sevika raises an eyebrow at you.

"what?" she asks.

the lovers. you chuckle and shake your head. "you got a crush on anybody?" you ask, flipping another card as sevika sputters across the desk.

"wh-- do i-- what the fuck are you talking about?" sevika's eyes are darting around the room like she's nervous, or something, and you don't understand why she's suddenly so antsy until you look down at your cards.

the high priestess. "oh." you giggle.

sevika's eyes fly to yours and she groans. "shoulda known better than to ask the fuckin' psychic i'm crushin' on to give me a reading, huh?"

you laugh. "only if you were hoping i wouldn't find out."

"fuck. i thought you were gonna tell me to quit smoking or something."

you snort. "i can tell you that, i don't need the cards for it."

"well..." sevika grunts and flails her hands out.

"well?" you ask. she groans again.

"you gonna charge me double if i ask you another question?" she asks. you grin.

"depends what the question is."

"for fuck's sa-- will you go out with me?" sevika whines. you grin.

"i knew you were gonna be someone special to me."

"oh yeah?" sevika asks with a hesitant smile. "the cards tell you that?"

"nah. didn't need 'em to know that." you say with a shrug.

sevika grins, and your cards flutter to the ground as she darts across the table to kiss you.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @greenhazes

[tarotofhope]

PAC: ♡ Why are you special for your future spouse? ♡

(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)

Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.

Pile 1

Cards: Knight of Cups, Empress, 6 of Wands, 3 of Wands, Ace of Wands, Wheel of Fortune, The Fool.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 1. You are special to your future spouse because you are very adventurous and thrill seeking. You are very jolly, happy go lucky and fun to be around. There's also this part of you which your spouse finds amazing that you don't take things to your heart, you don't get affected by unnecessary bs, but it does not mean that you're not serious. They like how you are a go-getter, extrovert and very driven by your ambitions. You get what you want because you know how to take it. You could also be someone who is famous and popular for their work/career. They might get a bit jealous of this sometimes, that so many people have their eyes on you and that they desire you. It's not toxic, it's just that they love you so much that sometimes they become insecure. They love to go on trips with you, roam around the world. You might be very direct and assertive in your approach. They love how you flirt without even knowing. You might be a bit bossy and dominating but they like that. You know how to take a stand for yourself as well as your spouse. You could even punch somebody in the face if they cross your limits. Your dressing style could be very trendy or fashionable, very vibrant even and they like that. You dress up very boldly, your confidence and larger than life personality gets reflected in your dressing style. You could even wear nice bright or dark lipstick, your make up is on point. There's something so magnetic and bold about your personality even if you're a woman reading this pile, you might come off as having more masculine qualities, or I must say very bold feminine quality. If you're a man, you might be very masculine/sigma male personality and your spouse loves that.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 1.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

Pile 2

Cards: 4 of Wands, Knight of Pentacles, 6 of Pentacles, The Devil, 10 of Wands, Knight of Wands.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 2. Your spouse loves how stable and secure you are. You have this way of protecting your loved ones. A happy and financially stable home is all you desire and strive hard for. You are slow and steady but you never rest until you reach your desired goal. You believe in working hard. They like how your heart is so kind and giving. You have a lot of compassion for the unfortunate. You might even do a lot of charity, give alms to the needy, donations, etc.. They love how you're married to your work but that does not make you compromise with your responsibilities at home. You never run away from your responsibilities, infact you might even do other people's work for them, taking more burden on your shoulders, your spouse might worry about your health due to this even if you take a lot of care of your health. They love how you keep your workspace and home always clean and clutter-free. You are a person of high values and good morals and you believe that respect is always earned and not demanded. Your spouse respects you a lot. They like how you always weigh your words before speaking, you don't just blabber anything that comes to your mind. They are also very sure that you would be a great parent and you would instil the same values as yours in your children too. They love your groundedness and practicality. Your beauty has this grace and elegance which they can't help but steal glimpses of, especially when you're looking away. You might wear nude/soft make up which enhances your beauty even more. They believe you look beautiful even without makeup. Your body might be beautifully curvy and your spouse likes that a lot. If you are a male reading this pile, you might have broad shoulders and a very nicely maintained physique.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 2.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

Pile 3

Cards: 10 of Swords, Wheel of Fortune, Strength, Hierophant, 8 of Swords, 7 of Cups, High Priestess.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 3. Your spouse thinks you're special because they have received this privilege to be your knight in shining armor. It's not like they're required to save you from your problems. It's just that their role is very important in your life because they come after a huge tower moment in your life(when you come out of a very bad situation). You come off as indecisive and you might have self-limiting beliefs too because of your hardships but they don't judge you because of this. They are coming as a blessing, as a breath of fresh air in your life and they'll also help you heal a lot. They are not here to take advantage of you just because you look vulnerable and helpless to them. They are with you because they see that spark/optimism in you, a desire to live better. They are not here to take from you even though you have a lot to give. You might believe in miracles, you could be religious or spiritual too. You will be beginning a new life with them. One thing is very prominent here, that you look confused and vulnerable to others because of your trauma but in reality, you might be very self aware, intuitive and observant. Your spouse might prefer you as proper husband/wife material. You might not like to wear make-up everyday and you wear it mostly on special occasions only. You might have a beautiful smile but maybe you don't smile much. Your dressing style is also very simple and your spouse admires it very much. Last but not the least, I won't like my audience to have false hope or see through rose colored glasses, if you relate with this pile's message, then I would like to add that, wanting to heal and learning your lesson from your past is of utmost importance, because if you don't, then your intuition, observation skills, self-awareness won't do you any good, you'll look vulnerable to people and they will take advantage of you and the past will keep repeating itself in various different forms. You'll have to make sure that you stand for yourself and create healthy boundaries, then only 'green flag' people will enter into your life.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 3.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

Pile 4

Cards: 4 of Pentacles, Emperor, 2 of Cups, The Moon, Justice Rev. clarified by Ace of Swords, 9 of Pentacles.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 4. Your spouse loves how you are so introverted most of the times, very self-aware and self-made. You've come so far on your own. You appear as though you don't talk much but when you get comfortable with someone, you never shut up. You might be very reserved and have very few friends. You might be a hopeless romantic and you might be very serious as far as relationships are concerned. You don't like to play mind games when it comes to relationships. You protect your belongings and loved ones with all your heart. Your spouse loves your simplicity. There is something very particular about your speech. You may have a beautiful voice(it could be your talking or singing voice) or the way you speak really stands out. You may not appear as though you'd speak your heart and mind effortlessly, but you do and they're amazed by it. You're someone for whom home and family values a lot. You have a lot of eccentricity too. The way you walk or the way you talk really stands out to people. You might love to wear a lot of unique or weird accessories and they find it so cool. Your dressing style could be a mix of modern and traditional. You might even look mysterious to your spouse as if you're hiding something or having a lot of secrets but they will find it intriguing and try to solve the mystery you are. You might have good intuition and strong gut feelings, pile 4. Many a times, you're right about a particular upcoming situation or people's true intentions. You're very caring and nurturing too. Your beauty is hard to define, very extra-ordinary. There is one specific thing here, that I'd love to mention, you not only speak your mind but you also speak openly about your past mistakes, guilt and wrong decisions made by you. Without bothering about what others might think of you, you go on speaking fearlessly about your downfalls and bad deeds. See, you're not a brat who just speaks of their mistakes loud in the open and doesn't care about them, instead you're someone who accepts your mistakes. You know you made a mess and so you speak about it because you accept it and you don't want others to fall into the same trap or make similar mistakes. Your spouse loves this so much about you. There is so much balance in your relationship.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 4.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

Pile 5

Cards: Hermit, King of Cups, King of Swords, Temperance, Magician, Judgement, 5 of Pentacles.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 5. You spouse loves how you're so balanced. You are a nice blend of emotions and intellect. It could be that you look emotional but you're intellectual and smart too or vice versa. They didn't see this coming when they first met you but when they started to know you, they realised you have many layers to you, everyday there's something new they get to learn about you and they find this very exciting. You're also very stable and you know the value of money and a stable home life because maybe you never got this. You might be very creative and you might have a fair sense of justice and judgement. You might not be religious. Your mindset, your approach towards life might have been majorly moulded by your past bad experiences. It can be so, that your way of seeing things has improved or changed a lot, and people find it very shocking to see such a huge transformation in you. You highly value your peace of mind and you walk away from people who don't value your time and energy. Your spouse will find it very applaudable too. That's why there could be a huge contrast in your personality which I had mentioned in the beginning. A proper balance. Every person you've met might have contrasting opinions about you, somebody will say that you're shy while somebody else might say you're not. You could be an ambivert, pile 5. You're someone who does their own thing. You might wear whatever you like, you don't have a fix structure of things and you don't like others telling you what to do and what not to. Your spouse really appreciates this. You might be very kind and helpful too. I can say that you value the light so much after dealing with the dark and your spouse finds themselves lucky to have you in their life.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 5.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.

——————————— ♡ ♡ ♡ ———————————

[importantanimalstories]

I'm not sure why, but people still ask us why we place service dogs with children sometimes. Let me help you understand, from a momma who knows first hand: See this moment? I've never experienced a moment like this. This picture was taken near the end of the day after my autistic five-year-old was finally able to sit down with his new Service Dog Tornado. He flew across the entire ocean, stopped in multiple states, and uprooted his entire routine to travel the globe for this. He was so overwhelmed through the day that he had to leave to take a break for a couple hours before he could come back. This boy is the strongest child I have ever met; he has faced countless rude and ignorant adults and children who do not understand him, who have hurt him, and who have not valued him because he is different. This picture captures the face of a mother who saw her child, who she can't hug, wash, dress, snuggle and touch freely lay on his new Service dog of his own free will, with a purposeful unspoken attachment. This is the face of a mom who has seen her son experience countless failed social interactions on the playground in an attempt to have a friend. Any friend. Any kind of connection. She has sat with her son while he has cried at night for months because he has no consistent connections outside of the family no matter how hard he tries and no matter what he works hard on in his Autism therapies. It doesn't transfer to the natural occurring world for him. And now she is sitting behind her son silently watching this moment, with the air sucked from her lungs, and no words to say. Holding her mouth and silently crying because she doesn't want to distract him from the moment and break him away from a pure, honest, and truly fulfilling moment for her son of his own free will. This is truly magic. Words cannot explain it. I have cried so many times for this boy, but this is the very first time I have cried for a reason like this. It's new, it's painful, it's wonderful, and it's grateful. I will always stand behind this boy (probably still crying ) but I am grateful that he will have Tornado to stand beside him. The 4 Paws magic is real. The wait is long, but this moment right here makes it worth every moment of waiting. It's worth every fight for services for my son, every diagnosis, every new provider, every dollar spent, every paper filled out, every school meeting, every shed tear, every step forward, every step back, and every wonder of the unknown future. Somehow because of this- because of Tornado- I know everything will be okay.