#i had thought of it and then my friend also pointed it out
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nightingale-prompts · 1 day ago
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Health Code Violation- DC x DP prompt
"Hold on there. You're not permitted beyond this point." The floating teenage boy said as he tucked his clipboard under his arm.
After a battle with another world-ending villain Superman was killed in action and after a short debate the decision to revive him using the Lazarus Pit was made. However, the league members who were carrying his body to the pit didn't expect it to be blocked off with caution tape. A teenage boy with stark white hair and wearing a hard hat and orange construction vest.
"What are you doing out here kid? And what is with the tape?" Barry asked shifting Clark's heavy ass body from crushing him.
"I'm here to take a look at the leak." He said pointing a thumb in the direction of the green pit.
"The leak?" Diana echoed in confusion.
"Yeah, your planet has a leak. A few actually. Our realm hasn't been managed well and now that the old king is gone we need to fix some things. Right now the leaks need to be sealed." He said. "Also what's with the dead guy?"
"We were bringing him to the Lazarus Pit to revive him." Barry said blankly.
The teen shook his head in astonishment almost dropping his clipboard.
"You are what?! With the what?!"
"The Lazarus pit...?" Hal laughed nervously his face in a half-quirked smile.
"You call it a Lazarus Pit? Guys this is a pool of contaminated ectoplasm. Basically sewage. This thing is full of dead people juice. All those leftover emotions and obsessions are stewing in there. You toss that body in these pool and you'll make a revenant full of anger. It doesn't even have an ecosystem to cleanse it. It's like stagnant water." The teen said waving his pen around before pausing "Wait a minute....you people have been using it? No wonder it's so polluted! What is wrong with you?! Are you trying to contaminate your planet? Do you want zombies?"
It was kind of weird to be scolded by a kid, for everyone but Bruce. He thought of a more pragmatic approach. He didn't like the pit but he acknowledged it's usefulness.
"I understand. But we do want to save our friend and the only way is to use the pit."
"That's a big ask. The pit is one thing but bringing back the dead willy nilly? ...But I guess that's my domain now.. "
The teen mumbled to himself before sighing.
"Look, I want to help. I really do. But the pit is unstable and there are many more on this planet with the same issue. We can't risk an apocalypse and the chance they get into the wrong hands. This is for the safety of your planet." The teen said as mannerly as possible as he dismissed the heros.
"Come on, please. Our friend is dead. You don't want our friend to die." Barry said pleadingly.
"Very mature of you. A bit of shame might help you...alright fine but don't badger me again." The silver-haired being said taking out a small syringe and taking a sample of his own blood.
"It's diluted compared to the pure stuff but 10x stronger than the stuff in the pool. It's safer and once he's kicking again it'll drain out of his system." He tossed the needle to Barry and returned to taking samples of the pit. "This biohazard requires an ecologist. I'll have to import some blob feeders to clean up the toxins. Then either seal this up or link it to the network. But these dumb mortals are just going to keep dumping bodies into it."
The teen mumbled to himself as he tried to find a solution.
A week later all the Lazarus pits had disappeared. The Al Ghuls were scrambling as the source of their powers dried up.
Clark was alive and feeling better than ever. No pit rage at all.
Eventually the boy returned.
"I had a talk with the ancients and they agreed to let you have one ecto pool. Only one thought and it has to be managed by me. As long as you don't try abusing it by going into it while alive or not asking permission I'll allow you to use it. Also, be mindful of my cleaning wisps, they work very hard to keep the natural flow of the ecto cycle going." The teen said holding up a green little ghost blob and petting it.
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lunavagans · 3 days ago
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I‘m bored, so.
1: Biological dad overwhelmingly neutral. He‘s there. Biological mother, 50/50, it‘s good now, didn‘t use to be, still nervous around her. Step-parent I get along well with, but not all too open with.
2: Nobody ever as far as I know. If I have, it was my cat.
3: So many things. I would‘ve done few differently. Still regret them.
4: Yes.
5: Single.
6: I don‘t care much, as long as it‘s painless and I outlive my pets.
7: Toasted bread with boiled egg slices for a small dinner.
8: No.
9: No.
10: Never had one.
11: Romantically, maybe. I‘m not sure. Rarely see her, anyway, the chance that something might become of it is tiny.
12: No.
13: Yes. Two teachers I had that treated me horribly for reasons I still don‘t understand. Maybe also my grandfather? Unsure.
14: Yes. Many people.
15: Yes, two cats.
16: Bored. Kind of numb.
17: No.
18: Yes.
19: No? Depends. In my own life, no. Back to the dinosaur age, yes.
20: Never kissed someone, so y‘know.
21: Maybe go to a protest depending on how I feel by then on Saturday, on Sunday an outing with my father to get him off my back for a while.
22: None of my own. Could imagine raising some that a partner brings with them, or adopting some. Two at most, though.
23: No.
24: Not sure. My best ones were english, german and art.
25: So, so many people. Mostly acquaintances I didn‘t become friends with but thought I could.
26: … Relief from my back pain maybe?
27: No, don‘t think so.
28: No.
29: No.
30: I‘ve been procrastinating studying for a while now.
31: I hope so. I think my mother does.
32: Orange.
33: Might have. I think it‘s more along the lines of abandonment issues.
34: I never remember my dreams.
35: I can‘t remember. The last times I cried, I did so in private. Except for that one time a bee bit my lip?? But that was in pain and fear, not much more. It really hurt.
36: I never have, nobody ever really wronged me. I think I would, but I‘d try to cut them off if they messed up again.
37: To forget.
38: I wish.
39: Haven‘t had it yet. Kind of glad.
40: Yes, on the balconey as a child. I wanted to get fresh laundry to get dressed but didn‘t see the point in covering up for ten seconds, since nobody could really see, anyway.
51: Salmon with rice and lemon sauce.
52: The reason can be coincidence, so yes.
53: Brush my teeth. Last night I was too tired to do much else.
54: No.
55: I can be, sometimes. Usually, I don‘t notice because I don‘t control my tone of voice well or things like that.
56: Nobody.
57: No.
58: Sunny.
59: Yes.
60: Yes.
61: Depends on the tone.
62: Warm laundry. My cats. Oranges. Getting a question right. Noticing progress in a language. Making progress with a WIP. Spaghetti ice cream.
63: Yes.
64: Never kissed someone.
65: Don‘t have friends. I‘d think it‘s cool, though. Maybe I‘d want to kiss them at least once. I don‘t know.
66: I don‘t have anybody I can do that with.
67: My step-parent.
68: I don‘t remember. It‘s been a while.
69: No.
70: Yes. Now that I think about it, more than I‘d like.
70 horrible questions ... Fuck it
01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?
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azrielbrainrot · 14 hours ago
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Moonlit Shadows - Act II
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Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader
Description: When tasked to find the once famed Temple of the Moon Goddess, Azriel only expected to find old forgotten ruins, if anything at all. He could have never imagined that not only would he find a temple but also someone who would change his life forever.
Tropes/Tags: Star Crossed Lovers (in a way), Forbidden Romance, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, some Angst with a Happy Ending
Warnings: hints of angst, tiny bit suggestive, making out?
Word Count: 8,7k
Rating: 18+
Notes: This part was running even longer than the first one so I split it into two parts and my plans for this story to only have 3 parts have changed into 4. I can't help myself in adding little details to this story, I love these two so much. Also just realized how long it has been since the first part, I'm so sorry for how long it took. Hope you enjoy!
Act I
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It's almost unbelievable how much life can change within two weeks, to the point Azriel can hardly remember what it was like to live without a mate, without you. This is only the third time he has come to the temple after you agreed to give the bond a try, and he's already eternally glad you did. Sitting on the steps to the temple, watching the sun set over the mountain while his mate told him about her life was now a normal occurrence. He truly couldn't believe his luck.
Not even a month ago, Azriel would have spent the time he had between missions either training himself to exhaustion or simply doing some more spy work behind his High Lord's back. Every family dinner or outing was plagued by his cruel thoughts, always murmuring about his unworthiness while he watched his friends happy and in love, never allowing him a moment of reprieve. But now he got to meet his mate, talk to her for hours and learn her innermost thoughts. By the Mother, he was even contemplating asking Rhys for some time off for the first time in his life so he could see you more often.
“It's impossible to get tired of this view,” you murmur, taking in the barely visible sun rays as the sky turns different shades of pink and orange. As cliché as it sounds, Azriel thought the same thing as he watched you.
He manages to drag his eyes away from your beautiful, peaceful face, studying the view you'd shared with him. You were right, this view could easily rival Velaris at night. Since the temple sat at the top of the mountain, you could see the entire forest from here, and, as beautiful as the sunset had been, he knows the moonlight brings out the true beauty of this place, and yours as well. It's almost unbelievable how you could become even more captivating than you already were, he could hardly take his eyes off you when the moon rays were shining down on you, reflecting on your white hair and adding an even more intense twinkle to your white, silvery eyes.
“How long have you been living here?”
“Almost four hundred years,” you say, nibbling on the biscuits the temple provided at the wave of your hand. He had learned the temple shared a similar spell to the House of Wind and Rhys' cabin. “I was almost thirty when I came.”
The thought of you locked in this temple for that long brings up memories of the dark cell his father kept him in when he was a child, but he tries to shake them away quickly. You were here of your own free will, and as far as he could tell you rather enjoyed living in the temple. This place couldn't be compared to the cell he'd been in any way.
He hopes you didn't catch where his thoughts went, this bond is hard to control most of the time and feelings often filter through unattended. It's because of the feelings the bond brings up that he often finds himself thinking of those moments he has been trying to forget for centuries as well. It almost feels like the bond is prying open everything he has kept locked away, wanting to lay him bare before his mate.
Still, it was hard to believe that you would be completely satisfied living hidden away, no matter how shiny your cage or how fulfilling your role in the temple was. He enjoys his quiet time a lot more than the average person, something even his family doesn't understand at times, but he can't imagine what it's like to live alone for centuries, with no one's company but your own. Azriel couldn't have survived with only his thoughts as company, not when his mind is such an ugly place, even his duty wouldn't keep him alive then.
You smile up at him before he has the chance to put his worries into the right words. “I know what you're thinking. It gets lonely up here, I can't deny that, and I know I've missed a lot of experiences over the course of my life, some that I might never get the chance to relive, but I've always been happy up here.”
“Do you have any family left? Friends?”
“No. Any friends I had before coming here have probably long forgotten about me, some might not even be alive anymore,” you look at him then, hesitation making itself known in your tone and mannerisms. He might have overstepped without meaning to.
“My parents passed away a few decades ago. They came to visit me as much as they could, and we'd send each other letters every few weeks. They came by to spend every Solstice and birthday with me.” You let out a small laugh, “Once they had a little fight and my mom just showed up here with a bag full of clothes and a couple boxes of cupcakes.” You look down at your hands, a lump forming in your throat, “They're the ones I miss the most.”
“I'm sorry.”
There was a tight feeling coiling around his chest, but he can't quite pinpoint if it was his own response to you being sad or if your feelings were bleeding into his own. All he knew is that he wanted to put a smile back on your face.
“It's okay. They were both close to a millennia old and lived their life to the fullest. I would have liked to be with them in their final moments, but it wouldn't have changed anything.”
“Is it really impossible for you to leave? Even at times like those?”
You clear your throat, trying to get rid of the emotion talking about your parents' deaths evoked. “Yes, being bound to the temple is part of the oath I made. I'm not entirely sure what would happen if I actually managed to break the wards, but I would lose my powers and wouldn't be able to come back at the very least.”
The emphasis you put into the final words told him you thought more would happen. Breaking an oath with a God could very well be fatal, since even a regular bargain made between fae can take someone's life if not fulfilled. He feels a string tightening around his heart as it usually does when he's reminded of your predicament. You will never leave this temple, and, as much as he wants to respect your wishes, he can't help but mourn what your life could have been, what the two of you could have been. There's so much he wishes he could show you, beautiful places he wants to take you to, and people he wishes you could meet.
“There were times when it was hard to be stuck here.” Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts, finding you've turned around, sitting cross-legged as you face him. “Obviously it was hard when my parents died, though the Goddess allowed their ashes to be brought to me so I could scatter them on this mountain,” your eyes travel to his wings, lingering on a few scars that will never leave the leathery skin, “I think it was even harder to bear when Amarantha came into Prythian and imprisoned the High Lords, and then when the war with Hybern broke out.”
You let silence fall between you for a few moments, eyes falling down onto your hands, kneading your left palm with your thumb as the first rays of moonlight made the aura around you more noticeable, a faint white light glowing around your entire body. He hopes it's not sacrilegious to think so, but you truly looked like a Goddess in this moment. His eyes fall onto your hands as well, debating on reaching to hold them in his warm ones when you resume your explanation.
“This power the Goddess shared with me has made me very strong, enough so that She leaves the protection of the temple entirely to me, but the biggest downside is that I can't help outside these wards,” you look up into his eyes then, regret lacing into your words, “I could have helped you. If the oath that gave me these powers didn't include staying in this temple, I could have tried to placate Amarantha before she could take everyone Under the Mountain, or at the very least fight alongside you during the war. A lot of people wouldn't have lost their lives if I could have helped.”
He understands what you mean, he has fought even while injured multiple times, during this war even, not willing to stop when he knows he can help even if it cost him his life, so he knows that watching from afar knowing you could have made a difference had to have been extremely frustrating, but he also can't help but feel selfishly glad you weren't there. The war had been bloody and cruel, if he could he would shield you from that sight if it was the last thing he did.
“You said it was Fate that decided you were supposed to live in this temple and protect it, right?” You nod, confusion written on your face. “Then it wasn't your place to be in the war. The temple was written into your life, and the war was written into ours. There's nothing we can do to change our fate.”
He seems to have said the right thing as you watch his face, the pained expression you previously wore slowly being replaced with a happier one, a smile even making its way into your lips, not quite as bright as before but a good start nonetheless.
“I still wish I could have gone,” you say, a twinkle in your eye, “maybe then you would have been written into my life sooner.”
Azriel had never found himself blushing as often as he does when he's around you in the five hundred years he's been alive. The worst part is it seems like you're not doing it on purpose. You keep complimenting him, showing him how much you enjoy having him in your life effortlessly, as if it's simply in your nature. Still, he can clearly see how much you enjoy the fact that you can bring him to this state so easily, a proud expression obvious on your face as you watch color take over the tips of his ears. Luckily for him, it's extremely easy to turn you into a bashful mess as well.
He shifts his weight onto his palm, leaning closer to you, a swift and fast movement, that of a trained soldier. Your sweet, intoxicating scent assaults him instantly, images of how he would let it intertwine with his own invading his mind for a treacherous moment - the mating bond seldom lets him have a moment of peace. Your breath hitches under his attention, wide eyes locked onto his.
“We've been written into each other's lives from the moment we were born, before our world was created even.” Your eyes travel down to his lips for a beat, the movement was quick enough that he might have mistaken it if it weren't for your proximity. It brings a satisfied smile to his lips as he adds, “whether at the temple or on that battlefield I would have found my way to you. That I can promise you.”
The reaction you give him is nothing short of delicious. Mouth slightly agape as you struggle to maintain eye contact at his confession, the wild rhythm of your heartbeat ringing in his ears and down the bond. He decides to push his luck a bit and test the waters, leaning even closer, enough so that your warm breath meets his skin, eyes dropping to your lips before stealing a cookie from the plate that sat beside you, straightening up as he brings it to his mouth, giving you space once more. He can't help the smile from growing when he hears your intake of breath, eyes dropping to your lap and hands smoothing down your skirt as you try to regain composure.
On one hand, he almost feels bad for teasing you like this, knowing there's a big difference in how you have both led your lives up to this point, even if you're relatively close in age. He would also hate to make you feel actually uncomfortable in any way. But, on the other hand, he wants nothing more than to whisper the most depraved things he wants to do to you so he can watch desire take over your face, so he can erase any semblance of innocence away. Although knowing exactly how experienced or not you are will end up being pertinent information if you both choose to keep chasing this bond, Azriel decides to take mercy on you tonight and change the subject.
“What was your life like before coming here?”
Looking up at him with tinted cheeks and wide eyes, you blink a few times, taking you a moment to answer, probably not expecting him to ask you a question so soon or too lost in your thoughts - he briefly wonders if they're any similar to his. Azriel can almost feel the bond purring, that ancient, inexplicable tether delighted at both your reaction and his playfulness, at your closeness.
“I'd say I used to live a pretty normal life,” you start, focusing on his shadows as they played over the steps, still too embarrassed to keep his gaze, “I used to live in a fairly small town, one of those where everyone knows each other and nothing too exciting ever happens,” a nostalgic smile takes over your lips, remembering your childhood. Azriel wishes he could take you back there, have you show him around the place where you grew up.
“My parents owned a small bakery so I helped them around before coming here. I liked baking with them, I wasn't too bad at it either, though the early schedule wasn't my favorite, I always liked sleeping in.” You seem lost in thought for a moment before shrugging and continuing, “Outside of that I had a few friends and a couple of lovers… nothing special.”
Azriel tries to ignore the sick twist of jealousy he feels at the mention of past lovers, knowing it's completely unfair to you, and irrelevant to your relationship now, but that damned bond doesn't know the first thing about rationality. Rhysand wasn't kidding when he said the mating bond grates, at times it was almost suffocating.
“One of the things I miss the most from those times are my parents' pastries,” you pout slightly, a playful glint in your eyes, “I may be biased but they were delicious.”
“It might not be the same, but I can bring you some from Velaris,” he offers. “The bakeries in town are always putting out new delicious things. I'm sure you would love them.”
“I'd like that very much, Azriel,” you say, that blinding smile he loves so much returning to your lips, a smile of his own mirroring yours. His name sounds like heaven, hell, and everything in between falling from your lips.
“Next time I'll bring you some of my favorites,” he pauses, a thought occurring to him as he tilts his head, “Actually, I don't have too much of a sweet tooth so I'll bring you Cassian's favorites instead. I think you would much prefer the chocolate covered cakes he likes to eat than my lemon tarts.”
“It's a deal then,” you nod at him, extending your hand for him to take, Azriel doesn't resist even for a second, letting you shake his hand as if you were in fact making a business transaction. “And if you come empty-handed I might put in a word with the Goddess and not let you in.” He lets out a chuckle, squeezing your hand before reluctantly letting go, missing the warmth of your palm against his immediately. To think there would come a day where he would actually want someone to keep holding his hand.
“You can bring some of your lemon tarts too, I want to try what you like first,” you tilt your head, “but you're right, my favorite is always chocolate.”
Azriel chuckles, “Both it is.”
The rest of your time together is spent much like this, talking for hours about any and everything. By the time he forces himself to tell you he needs to go back to Velaris, the moon was already ready to make its way for the sun once more, and your eyelids were significantly heavier, trying your hardest to ignore your fatigue in favor of staying with him for as long as possible.
He never knows what to do or say when it's time to say goodbye to you. It's abundantly clear that neither of you want him to leave. There's also always a part of him that fears he won't be able to come back, that for whatever reason the Goddess decides he's not in need of the temple anymore and the wards keep him out of your reach.
Aside from that, your relationship has been walking the line between platonic and romantic from the first day. You wanted to keep your heart and his as safe as possible given the entire situation. He couldn't fault you for that, but that meant you were stuck acting like friends, as if a mating bond wasn't connecting your bodies and souls, and because of it Azriel couldn't grab your cheeks and kiss you like he's been desperately dreaming of, even though your eyes find themselves entranced by his lips as often as the other way around.
As he gets lost in thought, wondering how your lips would taste, your eyes drop to his shadows, unaware of it all. Dark wisps moving from his own natural shadow cast by the moonlight to yours, some of the bravest, more disobedient ones even swirling up to your ankles tentatively. At least they were still being respectful.
“They like me,” you smile brightly down at them.
Like is not a strong enough word to describe his shadows' feelings when it comes to you. At times it's even hard to make them focus on their job as they sit and wonder what you're up to in the temple. Part of this might be his fault since he has always used them to spy on anyone he needed to, and now he's finding it hard to explain to these beings, who struggle with social cues as it is, that spying is a breach of privacy, something he only does because it's his job, and the last thing he would ever do to you, so they can't go and check on you simply because he misses you every second of the day.
Apart from that they've also taken to giving him romantic advice - which has been disturbing to say the least, - whispering words into his ear that they think you would like to hear, trying to guide him to the flowers or pastries they somehow know you prefer as he passes by the market street, even pushing him to sing to you. They go as far as trying to convey their own feelings to you through him, whispering praises in his ear, and in turn making the bond inside him wish he could send his own shadows on a trip to the bottom of the ocean never to return.
“Yes, I think they do,” he says defeatedly as he watches one of his impertinent shadows travel up to your hand, swirling around it as you bring it up closer to your face for inspection. He can't wait to hear how delighted it is of gaining your attention.
“Shouldn't they hide from the light?”
Azriel takes a step closer, holding your hand and ordering the shadows to cross over to his body so he can have this moment with you. Raising his hand up to your cheek, scarred thumb caressing your soft skin as he murmurs, “Not from yours.”
The irony of his mate being someone who quite literally glowed in the dark wasn't lost on him. For some reason, the fact only further proved you were made for each other in his mind. It's almost like the Mother was telling him that no matter how dark his soul was, it would never diminish your light as it glowed ever eternal alongside your Goddess.
“I really have to go now.”
It pains him to say it, but he's already going to be late and that'll raise questions he's been trying very hard to avoid. It was enough of a miracle that Rhys hadn't told anyone - outside of Feyre of course - that Azriel had found his mate, and he would like to keep it that way for as long as possible. They would ask him too many questions he wouldn't know how to answer, and, admittedly, he also wants to avoid the teasing comments while the bond is so fresh - nothing good can come out of giving Cassian and Nesta a way to make him blush with only a couple of words.
“Alright,” you smile up at him, but it doesn't reach your eyes. Every time he has to leave you behind, he considers giving up everything and moving to this temple with you.
You raise on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek, his eyes closing as a shudder runs through him, wings coiling tighter into his back. His other hand comes up to the other side of your face, his lips falling upon your forehead as a wave of satisfaction rushes his side of the bond. Both of your hearts beating wildly as he steps away slowly and starts walking closer to the edge of the stairs.
“I'll come back as soon as possible,” he promises one more time before taking flight.
“I know, Azriel. I'll be waiting.”
⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚
The unmistakable feeling of someone passing through the barrier rushes over you, sending your heart racing immediately. For a moment you think it's Azriel coming by unannounced, a smile breaking out on your lips as you get up to your feet, but a quick look into the bond that lays dormant inside you is enough to tell you he's still in Velaris, far away from the temple.
Your smile drops and a wave of sadness washes over you, freezing you in place, heart dropping at the reminder of the distance that lays between you and your mate, of the days you'll still have to endure alone before his next visit.
You feel movement again, now closer to the top steps, and shake yourself out of unwanted thoughts, pushing them all to the back of your mind as you shake any stray cookie crumbs from your trousers. If it isn't Azriel coming to see you then it's definitely someone coming to visit the temple, and you have a duty to fulfill.
It's only been a few weeks since Azriel first came looking for the temple, you've never had visitors showing up so close together. They're usually few and far in between, leaving you on your own atop the mountain for years at a time as the rumors about the temple die off among most of the population. The prospect of seeing someone again so soon has excitement rushing through your veins, completely overshadowing the solemn feelings from before.
You walk to the mirror, quickly checking your appearance before winnowing straight to the top of the stairs, catching your new visitor by surprise as she walks towards the temple slowly. The gasp she lets out when she spots you waiting for her brings a bigger smile to your lips, making you almost giddy as you cross your hands behind your back.
“Welcome to the Temple of the Moon. I'm the keeper and sole habitant of this temple and I've been tasked to keep it safe from any possible threats as well as helping anyone the Goddess deems worthy of being shown the way, just like you have.”
The well rehearsed speech comes to you naturally, the words flowing effortlessly from your mouth as you take in your visitor's wonder, curious eyes taking in the beautiful place. Of course she didn't have any speech rehearsed but it might as well have been since her next words mirror everyone else's when they arrive.
“I never knew there was a temple here,” the awe in her face brings you the usual sense of pride.
“It's a bit of a secret,” you wink at her, walking closer to the temple, motioning with your hand for her to follow you.
“My grandmother used to say these mountains were the most beautiful place in Prythian so I wanted to spread her ashes here, but I always thought she meant the actual mountains,” she muses. “This place is breathtaking.”
“The temple is hidden behind a powerful spell. I'm afraid when talking about this day your memories will be somewhat limited,” you explain softly as you lead her to the gardens in the back, the perfect view for her grandmother's final resting place.
As you go through the usual explanation, you realize you truly skipped most of it when it came to Azriel's first visit, though you still think you did better than expected given the circumstances. It's easy to forget your own name or any rehearsed speeches when you find yourself face to face with your mate.
The rest of the visit goes by fairly quickly. You lead her to the gardens and let her choose the perfect place among the flowers and trees, helping her spread the ashes as instructed, saying a quick prayer and then allowing her a moment to grieve, standing off to the side while still keeping a watchful eye over everything.
You can't help but let your eyes wander to the spot where you had spread your parents' ashes, the tears lining the young fae's eyes reminding you of the countless ones you had spilled as you went through the same. Over the years you've grown somewhat accustomed to their absence, - never fully, you've long since accepted that would be impossible, - but recent events have made you bitterly aware of it.
You wished you could tell your parents you had found your mate, would give anything to feel the anxiety of introducing them to Azriel. Now you can only imagine nervously writing them a letter, telling them all about the charming fae the Mother had chosen for you. They would show up at the temple the next day, not even the Goddess would be able to keep your mother from meeting her daughter's fated mate. Gods, they would have loved him.
A weak sigh escapes you. Nothing could take away the pain of losing a loved one, but you hope that the thought that her grandmother now lies within the temple's walls will lessen her grief even if just for a moment.
It's time to accompany her back to the stairs in no time, her tearful thanks and goodbyes echoing over the entrance hall. Watching the young fae descend the steps brings you a sense of accomplishment as usual, but this time there's an annoyingly acute emptiness growing inside you, tainting it.
Most visitors don't linger in the temple, only getting what they came for before going on their way, before going back to their busy lives, but as you watch her disappear between the trees, you're left wishing she would have stayed longer, sat with you and talked for a moment.
It wouldn't be fair not to acknowledge that this feeling had always manifested inside you after every visit you've received over the centuries, especially back when your parents were the ones stopping by and leaving you with hesitant glances over their shoulders, but you know that it had only grown more noticeable after Azriel first arrived.
Becoming familiar with someone's presence once again had made you more aware of your situation, more aware of just how many words and thoughts you had been keeping to yourself in your years of seclusion. It reminded you of how alone you truly were up in this temple. Before, the silence had been part of your routine, something you had no problem falling back onto after the rare visitor came and disturbed it. Now it felt like a consistently harder task, the silence ringing too loud in your ears, making you too aware of the echo that followed your footsteps.
Sitting down on the first step, you let out a sigh from deep in your chest, stretching your legs out, only noticing then that you had not changed out of your slippers in your rush earlier. It's a shame, you only really wear your nicer shoes when you have guests, which even with Azriel's more regular visits doesn't happen nearly often enough.
You feel yet another stab through your heart when you realize your first instinct is wanting to share the news with your mate, tell him about your visitor and your silly mistake, tell him how it reminded you of your parents and maybe even confide in him how lonely it all had made you feel.
You've been alone for so long that you had forgotten what wanting to share every exciting thing that happens with someone felt like. What is quickly becoming a familiar ache settles over you at the cold reminder that Azriel isn't within your reach. You'll have to wait until he visits again to share these news with him and see the smile on his face.
It's been over a week since he last came by, which wouldn't be much time at all if he weren't your mate and you couldn't feel him through the bond, so close but so far away. He warned you he would be busy with an assignment, even promised he would make it up to you when he was finished with it, but you can't rationalize how much you miss him or how much you wish he was by your side, and so you keep sitting on those steps well into the night, waiting for someone who isn't coming.
⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚
With delectable excitement running through his veins, the kind that only you could bring out of him, Azriel takes one last look in the mirror, fixing his shirt and running his fingers through his hair, making sure everything looks perfect and in place before entrusting yet another box of pastries to his shadows. He has been on the hunt for the best chocolate cookies in Velaris ever since you told him they were your favorite, but he also can't stop himself from trying to spoil you in any way he can.
It's been over a week since he last saw you, and Azriel has been counting down the days for your next meeting ever since he left your side. He couldn't help but feel uncharacteristically annoyed whenever he remembered the mission that ended up keeping him away from home, and in turn from you, for several days. Deep down he knew Rhys had actually been giving him more free time to go visit you than he usually would have in other circumstances, even covering for him when he disappeared for hours on end so the others didn't find it too suspicious. Unfortunately, the bond often spoke louder, and with it came a moodiness that Azriel only felt lifting up earlier today, when he started getting ready to see you.
He makes his way downstairs, already worrying about how the flight will mess up the hair he had just been combing through so carefully. If it weren't for the wards surrounding the House of Wind, he would have winnowed straight to the temple.
“You took a bath.”
A voice coming from the sitting room calls after him, effectively stopping him in his tracks, shadows crawling up his tense body. He curses himself, some spymaster he was, so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even notice he had company nor the forethought to avoid it. It seems he won't be able to leave without anyone noticing after all.
Azriel hesitates for a moment, unwilling to linger and lose even a second of precious time with his mate. Leaving would only make him appear more suspicious though, so he takes a couple steps into the room instead, finding the oldest and the youngest Archeron sisters looking back at him with amusement written in their eyes.
“I bathe.”
“You don't usually use any of the smelling washes.” Nesta's tone sounds nothing short of accusatory, glancing at Feyre while she talks as if trying to prove a point. “Not since recently at least.”
Azriel was never one to overthink about his appearance, perfectly content with keeping things simple, so it really doesn't come as a surprise that his best friend would notice his newly found appreciation for it. He had also not only accepted a few of Mor's invites to go shopping but also started using the clothes, fragrances and even accessories her and Rhys had gifted him over the years - something that unfortunately the High Lord had picked up on too and teased him relentlessly for whenever they were alone.
And, even in his recent distracted state, he would have to be a fool not to notice Nesta's curiosity towards his whereabouts and sudden mood changes. She has even been asking him about his missions, feigning interest in his spymaster duties just so she can catch him in a lie, knowing he would never dress like this to go spy on their enemies.
“Are you suggesting I smell, Nesta?”
“No, you smell amazing,” she clarifies quickly, sounding so sincere that he feels the corner of his mouth twitch up. Now he almost wishes Cassian was here.
“Then what's the problem?”
Knowing Feyre as well he does, it's extremely commendable that she's managing to keep quiet through this whole conversation, even more so that she hasn't said anything when Nesta surely came asking her what she knew. It also sends a certain warmth through him that she's going against her instincts to keep his secret - even though she and Rhysand have probably been gossiping about him every chance they get.
“There's no problem. I'm simply curious,” she says, clearing her throat before adding with a wicked glint in her eye, “you can't tell me you used your best smelling cologne to go on a mission.”
“I didn't say I was going on a mission,” he says, humoring her for a bit.
As amusing as this unexpected back and forth was turning out to be, it was, at the same time, stealing some of the precious time he had with you. He should have already made it out of Velaris, over the mountains where he would winnow straight to you.
“Then where are you going, if you don't mind me asking?”
“I'm going to have dinner with my mother,” Azriel offers, tone not wavering around the lie even for a moment.
“Oh.”
He feels a little bad for lying, especially since he's using his mother of all people as an excuse, but he knows that if he explained the situation to her she wouldn't mind at all. In fact, this reminded him to make some time to visit his mom, not only had it been quite a while since he last went, but he also wanted to tell her all about you.
Hiding the truth from Nesta and the rest of his family wasn't something he was content with either. Azriel knows they would all be overjoyed with the fact that he had found his Mother blessed mate, but he wanted to make sense of the situation before telling them. As things stand you're simply his friend, even with the shimmering bond between you, and you're still up in your temple, far away from everyone. He wouldn't even be able to properly explain the situation or his feelings on it, Gods know he tries whenever Rhys asks. He probably wouldn't even be able to take them to meet you.
Talking to his mother was always easier though. She never expected answers or explanations, she truly only wanted him to be happy. He can imagine the load off her shoulders it would be to find out her son had found a mate. Yes, he needs to make time to tell her, if no one else.
“I hope you have a lovely dinner, Az,” Feyre says, hiding a knowing smile behind her teacup, apparently not helping herself in at least getting a word in.
“Yes, I hope it all goes well,” Nesta adds, recovering rather quickly, the glint returning to her eyes as she likely reminds herself that one dinner with his mother doesn't explain all his strange recent behavior. Maybe he could still make a spy out of her, she's definitely determined.
Azriel simply nods and bids them a quick goodbye, doing his best to walk at a normal place to the front door, a relieved sigh escaping him when he shoots up into the air, passing the wards keeping the House of Wind safe, feeling himself get engulfed by his shadows as they take him closer to you.
⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚
“When you first showed up I thought you weren't a good flier,” you reminisce, leaning back further into the cushions propped at your back, a smile playing at your lips. “Or that maybe you were still young.”
Azriel's gaze darts around the library at your words, a breath escaping him before his beautiful hazel eyes meet yours once again. Biting your lip, you try to stop your smile from growing as you watch a flush traveling across his skin, crawling up his delectable neck until his rounded ears become tinted with a pinkish color.
“My wings froze in place,” he admits with a soft smile of his own. “It's a miracle I landed on my feet at all.”
A giggle escapes you then, followed by a breathy chuckle from him, remembering the way his knees had buckled under his weight, how your own felt equally as weak in the face of the all-consuming mating bond. The sound echoes around the library for a moment, carrying around the bookshelves and artifacts laying about, a delighted sound that these walls have not been privy to too often, so used to the silence as they were, as you were.
This was the first time you've brought him into the library since his first visit and the initial tour of the temple you had given him. You usually stay outside whenever Azriel comes to visit, either sitting by the steps watching the moon and the stars, or in the garden, on a bench by the flowers; under a tree, taking advantage of the soft grass that grows here with the Goddess' blessing. But as time passes and his visits become more frequent, you suddenly felt the urge to show him different parts of the temple, to have these little dates - if you could even call them that - in different places to make up for the fact that you couldn't leave the temple's grounds. The light rain that fell today, signaling the end of summer, had been the perfect opportunity.
What you didn't expect was for it to feel so much more intimate. It shouldn't have come as a surprise honestly, this is your house after all and even if he had been here multiple times he had never really lingered inside so now bringing him to the room you spend most of your days in feels different, it made your heart beat faster as soon as he walked in, the bond screaming in elation when he sat in the sofa you're curled in almost every day, taking his place by your side. You don't think you'll ever be able to sit here without this image popping up into your mind.
“I think you did good under the circumstances,” you offer, hand twitching at your side, wanting to reach out and touch the flush covering his cheek, reaching for another cookie instead to keep your treacherous fingers occupied.
Azriel had made good on his promise to bring you every pastry and sweet from Velaris, never arriving at the temple without carrying something delicious within his shadows. Today he brought you various cookies of different shapes, sizes and flavors. They were all delicious, their rich taste blooming in your mouth when you bit into them, but it seems he overestimates just how much you can eat, especially since he barely helps you at all - you swear you've only seen him eat one singular cookie since you opened this box.
“It sounds like you're just saying that to make me feel better.” You shake your head in denial, you really weren't, but he continues before you can say anything else. “Us Illyrians take a lot of pride in our flying abilities, you know? I'm not sure I can let this go so easily.” The teasing smile that blooms on his face is completely mesmerizing, it almost makes you forget yourself. “You'll have to let me show you.”
It takes you a moment too long to process his words, your silver eyes too caught up on his inviting lips to pay any attention to what he said. You'd like to blame these moments where your thoughts stray when you look at Azriel on the bond, but you're not so sure it was all its doing. If he notices he doesn't let it show, allowing you to meet his eyes again like nothing had happened.
“You want to take me flying?”
“If you let me,” he murmurs softly. The excitement written in his eyes was contagious, and if you didn't know any better you'd say he had been waiting on a chance to ask you.
You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought of the possibility ever since you first laid eyes on Azriel. You had never seen a winged fae before so flying always seemed like a childish dream, but now you couldn't help feeling a hint of wistfulness every time you saw him land swiftly on top of the steps. Who wouldn't want to fly? The thought of the wind caressing your skin as you cut through the clouds sounded heavenly, not to mention Azriel's arms wrapped around you as he held you against him. The thought summons warmth to your chest, and lower.
“I'd like that,” you say, “but I'm not sure if it will work because of my oath. We would not be able to go far.”
“Around the temple should be fine, right?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“It's a promise then,” he smiles brightly down at you. “Next time I'll take you flying. I would take you right now but it's still raining.”
“Do you know when the next time will be?”
The words escape you before your brain catches up to them. The way his smile falters, and some of his shadows rush to him from where they had been lazily swirling around the library makes you want to take them back immediately. You know they do that when he's upset or sad, something you rarely see when he comes to the temple. The thought that you were the one to make him so makes you want to rip out your heart and beg for his forgiveness.
“I'm only curious. I didn't mean anything by it,” you rush to explain, the last thing you wanted was for him to think you blamed him, or expected more of him. Azriel had been nothing short of perfect and understanding given your limitations.
“I would come every day if I could.”
“I know, Azriel.” You can hear the longing in his voice, filtering in through the bond as well, even if he tries to hide it. “I would go to you if I could too.”
Thankfully this brings the smile back to his lips, even if still somewhat overshadowed by the reality of your relationship. You've noticed Azriel has a hard time believing he's wanted, and you probably only make it worse since you have not accepted the bond.
“I'm not sure when the next time will be. I should be free in a couple of days, but if Rhys and Feyre need me in the meantime it might be longer, and I don't want to keep your hopes up if I might not be able to show up after all,” he explains as he reaches out for your hand tentatively, holding it delicately in his as his thumb starts drawing circles over your open palm, sending a tingling feeling shooting up your arm and straight to your chest. Shouldn't you be the one comforting him?
“I'll be here waiting either way, Azriel. I don't want you to neglect your work because of me,” you say, squeezing his hand, holding it tighter in yours.
“I'm not. There's no immediate threats on the court so things have been relatively calm, and I think I've earned some time off for all the years I worked without it.” The two of you were similar in a lot of ways, how focused you could be on your work and loyal to your duty was one of them. “Rhys has been easier on me too,” he adds.
“Does he know?”
“Since the first night,” Azriel nods, “I tried to hide it but he saw right through me. I haven't told anyone else though.”
You frown softly as his words settle between you, biting your lip softly and hopefully hiding it before he notices. You didn't know how to feel about Azriel having to hide you from his family, having to sneak around whenever he visits you. The way your chest constricted as soon as the words left his mouth told you what the bond felt immediately though. Your eyes drop to your still intertwined hands, the sight making your heart flutter despite your inner turmoil.
A mating bond was an extremely rare and beautiful thing, something you would be proud to tell your friends and family all about, the whole world even, but you can't blame him for not telling them anything when there's no guarantee this will work, when you made it clear from the first day that you didn't think it would work. All he had to do was explain the situation for the expected congratulations and joyous smiles to turn into pity and sympathetic words instead.
“I'm sorry.”
Now it was Azriel's turn to frown, leaning closer to you and squeezing your hand, trying to meet your eyes as you focused on his hand, on the shimmering silver string that kept you eternally bound to each other.
“What are you sorry for?”
“It's my fault you have to hide it.”
“Of course not-”
You cut him off with a shake of your head, tugging on his hand. You were tired of him making excuses for you, of acting like nothing was wrong. If his mate were anyone else, he would have probably at least started dating them regularly by now, might have even already accepted the bond.
“I need you to know,” you look up at him, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with every word even when it becomes too much to bear, “if it weren't for the oath I made and if I could leave the temple, if we could live a normal life, I would accept the bond in a heartbeat.”
You can't quite read the expression that falls over his face, and your nerves are making it impossible to keep a cool head. As the silence stretches on, his hand frozen in yours and his hazel eyes staring right into your soul with unwavering intensity, your heart starts beating extremely loud, pouding at your eardrums as the thought that you said the wrong thing invades your mind.
“Azriel-”
“Can I kiss you?”
“What?”
“Please,” he breathes out, a desperately needy sound coming from deep in his chest. Scarred hands come up to hold your cheeks as he leans down, touching his forehead to yours, hazel eyes closing. “I really want to kiss you.”
You're unsure why he thought you could ever deny him such a request. Leaning in the rest of the way, your lips find his in a soft kiss before you lose your courage. It had been entirely too long since you've felt someone's lips on yours and the fact that it was Azriel, your mate, only made the fire starting inside you burn brighter.
A moan crawls up your throat before you even have a chance to think to keep it down. Azriel swallows it gladly, offering you a deep, satisfied groan of his own as the kiss turns more desperate. All the want you've both tried to keep locked away rising up uninterrupted as teeth and tongues clash, your hands tugging at his soft hair while his fall to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.
You have no idea how long you're tangled up in each other, the world falling silent while his hands roam your body, but by the time your mind finally clears and you manage to get a grasp on your instincts and on the bond, you find yourself straddling his lap, your dress pushed up to your hips and his shirt half unbuttoned.
Your entire body was glued to him. You could feel every breath he took, the low purring in his chest rumbling against yours, and the evidence of just how much he wanted you pressing against your core. It's as if you had been trying to crawl under his skin, maybe you were, it's not like that would be enough.
Even as you pull apart, chests rising and falling together as you catch your breaths, you don't move away from him, your eyes still closed as you keep your foreheads pressed together. You think it might be impossible to, just the thought makes you want to chain yourself to him, the bond making it difficult to even think at how adamant it is on you keeping your mate as close as possible.
Azriel seems to be of the same mind as he lets out a soft groan, strong arms tightening around you, the sweet pressure pushing an embarrassingly needy and breathy moan past your lips. He leans into your neck, a shiver running through his body as he takes in your scent, the way it deepened with arousal and mixes in with his sending his mind into a frenzy the same way it does yours. If anyone were to walk into this room, they wouldn't be able to tell them apart at all, there wouldn't be any doubts that you were his.
You feel him drop an otherwise chaste kiss to the overheated and sensitive skin of your neck, the way his body tenses at the harsh breath you take in telling you he wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into it instead. With how out of practice and needy you are at this moment, you think you'd come undone on his lap if he did, the thought sobering you somewhat.
Calling his name softly, surprised by how breathy and undeniably affected your own voice is, you wait for him to gather his own thoughts, abandoning your neck reluctantly, his half-lidded and blown out hazel eyes meeting yours. You know mating bonds are a lot harder to manage for the males so you can't even imagine what is going through his mind, how hard he has to hold himself back from claiming you as his own when you're soaked and pliable on top of him.
Even though you were the one who called his name, you find yourself at a loss for words in the face of his desire. You don't want to tell him to stop and you don't want to move away from him, but you have to, you both know that. And so you kiss him again instead, softly, apologetically.
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mangionebabymama · 3 days ago
Text
“six thirty” — Luigi Mangione
“Whatcha gonna do when I’m bored and I wanna play video games at 2 am? What if I need a friend? Will you ride ‘til the end?” - “six thirty” by Ariana Grande
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Word Count: 3.0k
Warnings: LOTS of pining and yearning, sort of slow-burn online romance, but it's also platonic, maybe? This also contains some slight mentions of depression and loneliness; please proceed with caution.
A/N: Inspired by this ask from a while ago, where those particular lyrics of "six thirty" about playing video games at 2 am have always stuck with me. If you don't know this about me by now, I am a Cancer sun, and it shows. I am emotional, and I'm going to be an emotional writer. Please note that this is purely fictional, but these feelings are real.
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The glow of Luigi’s monitor lit up the dim room, casting long shadows across the walls. It was 2 a.m., and the quiet hum of his computer was the only sound breaking the silence. He shifted in his chair, wincing slightly as the faded memories of his surgery still lingered in his movements. Recovery had been slow, and lately, he’d found himself retreating into the digital world more and more. The real world felt heavy, distant—like it wasn’t his anymore. Like he was watching his life happen from somewhere far away. His family and friends tried to reach out, but he’d been pulling away, retreating into himself.
His cursor hovered over his Steam library, scrolling aimlessly. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for. Just something to fill the void. That’s when he noticed it—the little green dot next to your username. You were online. His heart gave a little leap, and before he could reconsider his decision, a notification appeared from you.
Can’t sleep either? Is it the insomnia again or were you hoping to see if I was up?
Luigi’s fingers flew over the keyboard for a moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the heaviness in his chest. He glanced at the clock on his desk— now 2:01 AM—and then back at the glowing screen of his monitor. The room was darkling, lit only by the soft blue light of his computer, and the hum of the fan inside the tower was the only sound accompanying his thoughts.
Pep: Both.
The reply came almost instantaneously, like a reflex, as if you’d been waiting for him. 
You: Figured. You’ve been on late a lot lately. Not that I’m complaining—company’s nice.
Luigi leaned back in his chair, letting out a slow breath. His back ached faintly, a dull reminder of the surgery he’d had months ago. The doctors had said he’d recover fully, but they hadn’t warned him about the mental toll it would take. The weeks spent in bed, staring at the ceiling, had given him too much time to think. And now, even though he was physically better, he couldn’t shake the weight that seemed to settle deeper into his chest every day.
Pep: Yeah, I guess I have. Sleeping’s been… hard.
You: Hard as in “can’t fall asleep” or hard as in “don’t want to”?
Luigi hesitated. You always seemed to know the right questions to ask, the questions that cut straight through the noise and got to the heart of things. He wasn’t sure if it was comforting or terrifying.
Pep: Both.
There was a pause before your next message appeared. 
You: You’ve been quiet lately. Not just tonight—like, in general. Even when we’re playing. You okay?
He stared at the words, his chest tightening. How does she always know? He wondered. You’d never met in person, never even seen each other’s faces, but somehow, you always seemed to see him. 
Pep: I don’t know. I guess… I’ve just been feeling kind of lost. I don’t even know how to explain it.
You: Try. 
Luigi let out a short, humorless laugh. Leave it to you to cut straight to the point. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words.
Pep: It’s like… everything just feels heavy, you know? Like I’m just going through the motions. I’ve been distancing myself from everyone—my family, my friends—but I don’t even know why. I just… I can’t seem to connect with anything anymore. Except this. 
He added, gesturing to the screen even though you couldn’t see him. 
Talking to you. Playing games. It’s like the only time I feel… I don’t know, alive, I guess. 
The cursor blinked as he waited for your response, his heart beating a little faster than it should have.
After a moment, you wrote back. 
You: You’re not alone in that. I think a lot of people feel that way sometimes. Especially now, with everything going on in the world. It’s easy to get lost in your own head.
Pep: But it’s not just that. It’s like… I’m stuck. Like I’m just watching my life pass by, and I don’t know how to make it stop. I don’t know how to fix it.
There was another pause, longer this time.
You: Have you talked to anyone about this? Like, really talked?
Luigi shook his head, though he knew you couldn’t see him. 
Pep: Not really. I don’t want to bother anyone with it. And I don’t even know what I’d say.
You: You’re not bothering me
And you don’t have to have all the answers. Sometimes, just saying it out loud helps.
Or typing it out, lol
He smiled faintly, a warmth spreading through his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time. 
Pep: Thanks. Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
You: Probably be even more of a mess
You joked about that last bit of your message, and he could almost hear the teasing tone in your voice as he let out a chuckle reading what you said. 
Pep: Ya, probably
There was a comfortable silence between you both, broken only by the soft sound of his keyboard as he typed some more.
What about you? Why are you up so late?
You: Couldn’t sleep either. Insomnia’s a bitch. Plus, I was kind of hoping you’d be on.
Luigi’s heart skipped a beat, and he had to remind himself to breathe.
Pep: Yeah?
You: Yeah. You make the nights better.
He felt his face heat up.
Pep: You make them better, too. 
Another pause preceded your following message.
You: You know, it’s okay to not be okay. And it’s okay to lean on people when you need to. You don’t have to go through this alone.
Luigi stared at the words, his throat tightening. He wasn’t sure if it was the late hour or the raw honesty of the conversation, but he felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He typed, his fingers lingering uncertainly over the keys.
Pep: I don’t want to be a burden. 
You: You’re not a burden. 
If anything, you’re the opposite. You’re important to me, Luigi—more than you realize.
His breath caught in his throat, and he had to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. 
Pep: You’re important to me too.
His hands shook as he typed. 
More than I think I’ve ever admitted.
There was a long silence, and for a moment, he wondered if he’d said too much. Yet, your response showed up, and he felt a surge of adrenaline in his chest.
You: Maybe we should admit it more. To each other. To ourselves. Life’s too short to keep everything bottled up.
Luigi nodded, even though you couldn’t see him.
Pep: Yeah. Maybe we should.
He tilted back in his seat, caught in a strange sensation of relief intertwined with fragility. He wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, but at last, he felt like he wasn’t alone.
You: You know…
Sometimes, I think about what it would be like to meet you in person.
Luigi felt a flutter in his heart once more. 
Pep: Yeah?
You: Yeah. I think it’d be… nice. To talk face-to-face. To really see you.
Pep: I think it’d be nice too.
You: Maybe, one day, we will
Pep: One day, for sure
The cursor blinked on the screen, expecting the next words to appear. For once, Luigi felt a spark of something he hadn’t felt in months: hope.
You: Until then, I’m here. 
Whenever you need me.
Luigi smiled, his chest swelling with gratitude. 
Pep: Same goes for you. Always.
The cursor blinked lazily on the screen, as if it, too, was holding on for Luigi to gather his courage. He sat in the dim glow of his monitor, the rest of the room swallowed by the darkness of the early hours. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, shaking, as if betraying the weight of the words he was about to type. He swallowed hard, his throat dry.
Why now? He thought. Why does it feel like I can only tell the truth at 2 a.m. when the world is asleep?
But he knew the answer. It wasn’t the time that mattered. It was you. The way you listened without judgment and your words seemed to reach into the parts of him he’d locked away. You made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as broken as he thought.
He took a deep breath, his chest tightening as he started typing.
Pep: There’s something I’ve never told anyone.
He wrote away, his words appearing on the screen in a rush as if they were desperate to escape. He paused, his heart pounding in his ears. Was he really going to do this? Was he really going to lay himself bare like this?
Just as he was about to second-guess himself, your reply appeared up.
You: You can tell me anything, Luigi. You know that.
He exhaled shakily, his fingers moving almost of their own accord.
Pep: It’s about why I’ve been so… distant lately. It’s not just the surgery. Not just the insomnia. It’s… I’ve always felt like I don’t belong. Like I’m on the outside looking in. Even with everybody in my life. I try to act like I’m okay, like I’m fine, but I’m not. I haven’t been for a long time.
He stopped, his chest heaving as if he’d just run a marathon. His eyes darted to the clock in the corner of the screen—2:04 AM. The world was still asleep, but he felt more awake than in months.
Your reply came quickly, longing for him to say those words all along. 
You: That’s a heavy burden to carry alone. You don’t have to, you know. You’re not as alone as you think you are.
Luigi’s lips trembled as he absorbed your words, a tight knot swirling in his throat. Deep down, he yearned to trust you, to hold on to the fragile hope that he wasn’t as solitary as he often felt. Yet, the weight of loneliness pressed heavily on him, an ever-present shadow that made believing in that hope a daunting challenge.
Pep: It’s not just that
He typed, his fingers moving faster now, as if they couldn’t keep up with the thoughts tumbling out of his head. 
I’ve been struggling 
with something else
Something I’ve never told anyone. Not even my closest friends.
The cursor blinked mockingly, sitting tight for him to continue. He swallowed hard, his stomach churning. This was it. The moment of truth. The moment he either let it all out or shut it away forever.
You: Take your time, Luigi. I’m here.
He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his courage. When he opened them, he started typing again, the words spilling out, his cup runneth over with transparency. 
Pep: I’ve always felt like I was different. Like there was something wrong with me. Something I couldn’t put into words. It’s not just the loneliness. It’s like… I’ve been searching for something my whole life, but I don’t know what it is. And it’s tearing me apart.
His hands trembled as he pressed the enter key, the letters materializing on the screen in sharp black and white. A rush of vulnerability washed over him, as if he had peeled away a layer of skin, revealing the raw, bleeding chaos lurking beneath. It was an eerie sensation, as though he was standing naked before an unseen audience, laid bare and utterly exposed.
His heart pounded as he waited for your reply, each second stretching into an eternity. When your message finally appeared, it was simple but profound.
You: Thank you for trusting me enough to share that. You’re not alone in feeling that way. A lot of people feel lost, like they’re searching for something they can’t quite name. It’s part of being human. But you don’t have to figure it all out right now. 
Just take it one step at a time, one day at a time.
Luigi’s breath caught in his throat as he read your words. It wasn’t judgment or pity that he saw in them. It was understanding. Compassion. And something else—something that made his chest ache in a way he couldn’t quite explain.
Pep: I don’t know where to start
He confessed, his fingers shaking as he typed. 
I feel like I’m stuck in this… this loop. Like I’m just going through the motions, but I’m not really living. I don’t know how to break out of it.
Your response was prompt, as though you had anticipated him saying those words. 
You: Start by being honest with yourself. About what you want, what you need. It doesn’t have to be all at once. Just take small steps. And remember, you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here. As much as you’ll let me be.
Luigi's vision swam before him as he absorbed your message, a lump rising stubbornly in his throat. He scrubbed at his eyes, fighting back the tide of emotions that surged within him—gratitude coursing through his veins, relief washing over him like a gentle wave, and a flutter of fear that danced just beneath the surface. Yet, amid this tumult, there was something else—a warm, comforting sensation enveloping him, as if he were being wrapped in a soft, reassuring hug that eased the weight on his shoulders.
Pep: I don’t know why you’re so kind to me.
He typed, his fingers moving slowly now as if each word carried the weight of his heart. 
I don’t feel like I deserve it.
You: You don’t have to earn kindness, Luigi. You deserve it just because you’re you. And you’re worth it. Don’t ever doubt that.
He stared at the screen, his breath hitching. Those words—those simple, powerful words—struck something deep inside him, something he’d buried long ago—a tiny spark of hope, flickering in the darkness.
Pep: I don’t know what to say. I just… Thank you. For being here. For listening. For… for seeing me.
You: Always, Luigi. Always.
He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt like he could breathe. Like the weight on his chest had shifted, just a little. It wasn’t gone, but it was bearable. And for now, that was enough.
Pep: There’s one more thing. Something I’ve never told anyone. Not even myself, really.
He paused, his fingers trembling. This was it. The moment of truth. The moment he either let it all out or shut it away forever.
You: You can tell me anything, Luigi. I’m here.
He closed his eyes, gathering his courage. When he opened them, he started typing again, the words spilling out in a raw, unfiltered stream.
Pep: I think… I think I’ve been searching for someone. Not just anyone, but… you. I don’t know how to explain it, but talking to you, it feels like… like I’ve finally found what I’ve been looking for. I know it sounds crazy, but—
Your reply interrupted him, cutting off his words before he could finish.
You: It’s not crazy, Luigi. I feel it, too.
His breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding in his chest. He stared at the screen, his mind racing. Did you really mean it? Or was it just the late hour, the vulnerability of the moment, making you say things you might not normally say?
Pep: Do you really mean that?
As he typed, his fingers erratically tremored; he couldn’t keep up with the thoughts tumbling out of his head. 
Or is it just the insomnia talking?
You: I mean it, Luigi. I’ve felt it, too. This connection between us. It’s real. 
It’s always been real. 
Pep: I want it to be real.
You: Then let’s make it real. 
His pulse quickened. The compulsion hung in the air, heavy and loaded. He’d thought about it—more times than he could count. He’d imagined what it would be like to hear your voice, to see your face, to feel your presence beside him. But it felt like a dream, something just out of reach.
Pep: But there’s so much distance. And I… I don’t know if I’m ready for that. If I’m even capable of it. I know you’re real, and this is, but I want to feel it, too. 
The honesty in his words surprised him. He hadn’t meant to say so much, but something about the late hour, the quiet, you—it made it impossible to hold back.
You: I get it. I really do. But… what if we didn’t have to figure it all out right now? What if we just… let ourselves want it? Even if it’s just for tonight.
I mean… what if we stopped pretending like this isn’t something real? Like we’re just two strangers who happen to be online at the same time. Because we’re not. We’re more than that. 
And… I don’t want to hide it anymore.
Luigi gazed at the words, his chest constricting. He felt naked and vulnerable, yet also… relieved. It was as if someone had torn off a bandage he hadn’t known was there.
Pep: I don’t want to hide it, either. I do want this. I want you. Even if it’s just like this, for now. Even if it’s just words on a screen. It just feels so real to me.
You: Then let’s stop pretending. Let’s just… be. Together. Even if it’s just for tonight.
He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. He let out a slow breath, feeling the pressure ease slightly, now knowing that deep down, he understood what he wanted—he wanted you, and at long last, you were there, waiting for him. He was no longer alone. At this moment, going forward for however long the night would last, it would be just you and him—and only you and him. And it was going to be real. 
Then, slowly, he typed.
Pep: Okay. Let’s be together.
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poseidonsworst · 3 days ago
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I also lost my cat of 13 years in October.
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His name was Larry. My big silly boy was with me through my years long mental health crisis in high school, my recovery through that the first year of college, and the decline of my physical health during the rest. Him and Lady Macbeth were such important constant friends through all of that. I often credit them with saving my life a few times while my mental health was at it's lowest. Even if they were more Disservice Animals than they were service animals once my physical health started to go.
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He was such a silly, ridiculous cat. I didn't take near enough pictures of him, but it was still hard to choose which ones to put here.
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He used to play fetch with hair ties and rubber bands, and his favorite places to be were either snuggled up with Lady or on his favorite blanket in my lap (pulling out my head phone cable or messing with my keyboard!!)
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He was obsessed with yogurt and sitting on top of fridges. And when my chronic pain made me too squirmy to be a comfortable lap, he'd squish himself onto this rickety old kitten-sized cat tree just to be near me. It was way to small for him, and wobbled whenever he shifted. It honestly took a lot longer for it to break under his big ass than I thought it would, but he still hung out there.
About a year and a half ago I developed MCAS, which is basically Allergic To Everything Disorder, and what was previously a minor cat allergy escalated to the point where I couldn't breathe if my babies were in the same room as me. I had to go send them to live with my parents, and it was several months into that time when Larry was diagnosed with jaw cancer.
The chances of him pulling through were to slim to put him through all the surgery and chemo treatment would entail, so I decided that allergies be damned I was gonna spend as much time with him as I could.
I got about a week.
The vet told me I'd know when it was time, and that time came when he'd only eat if I hand fed him. He crawled up on my chest, looked at me, and started pawing at his face like he was asking me to do something about it. He was already on a lot of pain meds, so the best thing I could do for him was let go.
During that last week he still curled up on my lap on his favorite blanket, and ambled after some rubber bands I shot across the room. I made an appointment for a specialty vet come to my house so he could be comfortable and I could hold him as he went.
Despite that, I managed to put off grieving him because I'd already mourned having to send them to live away from me. This post is what I finally needed to pull his ashes out of the closet and finally properly welcome him home, so he can sit on my lap on his favorite blanket.
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Thank you Larry for being my best friend through so much, I'll always love you my big stinky man.
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Lyra, my beloved cat of 13 years, passed away this year on Father's Day. She's been by my side through very difficult times and was my little rock of steady and unrelenting love. I struggled a lot drawing this, and struggled a lot posting it, but I know I would've wanted to read a comic like this that validated my grief for her when I lost her.
Wherever you are, Lyra my little summer star, I love you always! Thank you for being the best thing in my life.
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loojii · 1 day ago
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Capricorn post? *Sniffs your art like a dog*
It's been a while since I got back into this project and I totally forgot that his name is not actually Capricorn, it's Capricornus! Because that's the name of the constellation. And like mentioned before (I know it's getting annoying hearing it from me all the time haha) but these are based on the constellations :) Not the horoscope stuff - but friends can call him Capricorn I guess lol
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He's the 10th prince, so one of the younger ones (even though they're all thousands of years old, mentally he's young adult). He's a bit of a party boy! But great at planning them too
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Miss Sun was mentioned before in these posts, but she used to be the princes' nanny and now still takes care of them during their reign. And she is often concerned when Capricornus is out partying again.
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Capricornus Alpha Star doesn't really have a proper name? It's official name is Alpha Capricorni. It's also two stars but we see it as one (some other stars are binary systems, who are also two stars but appear as one, but then a big star has a smaller star orbiting it. Alpha Capricorni is an optical double. The stars do not orbit one another, just from our angle it looks like one). So I will design that one too at one point. Alpha Cap had some names: Algedi, Algiedi, Al Giedi or Giedi. Since Deneb Algedi already is called Algedi I thought I would call the character Giedi. He has horns in the very quick sketch but I'm not sure anymore if I want stars to have horns as well. So a redesign is in order soon!
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Ophiuchus is the mc of the game concept and Capricornus (who was the very first Zodiac Prince I drew btw) is her friend. Ophiuchus was designed as a joke when I first started this design series, as an answer to the question if I would make zodiac princesses and the 13th sign. I did some sketches for a different design so maybe she gets that one as well. Capricornus is a smooth talker, a pretty boy, so Ophiuchus likes him.
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Capricornus has a split tail, because it's a goat with a fish tail get it? Other fish like constellations have it as well (not all of them though).
Here's more art of him! He used to have stones on his horns, but I removed them because it was too much. He's the hardest Prince to draw in my opinion, I struggle the most with him for some reason
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Taurus post ★ Gemini post ★ Cancer post ★ Virgo post ★ Libra post ★ Scorpio post ★ Sagittarius post ★ Aquarius post
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nameless-jamie · 1 day ago
Note
✨💖 The vibes of your writing are immaculate. And I love your series and the new chapters. Would you ever write about an anxious/ shy reader?
Blush
Masterlist
Jamie Tartt x fem! shy receptionist reader
TW: cursing, kissing
A/N: Are you ready for a looooong one? Thank you for the request! I had a whole field-day writing this because I myself am pretty shy in real life. That's why it is veeery long. I actually also had another few paragraphs of the morning after their date, but I edited it out because I guess it would've been too long.
The AFC Richmond front desk was Y/N’s safe space. She had a whole routine. Come in early, set up at the front desk, answer calls, and avoid unnecessary conversations. She liked her job as a receptionist—AFC Richmond had always felt like a family, even if she sometimes felt like the quiet cousin at the reunion. She had her friends, though: Will, the ever-cheerful kit man, Roy Kent, who, for some reason, had taken a liking to her despite his usual grumpy demeanor and of course Keeley!
Most people in the club were kind enough to respect that she wasn’t the most talkative person, even though it is literally her job to greet people.
Jamie Tartt was not most people.
Jamie was… different. Not in the way Roy was—gruff but secretly soft. Not in the way Ted Lasso was—easygoing and goofy. Jamie was loud, confident, and impossible to ignore. And worst of all, he had somehow decided she was his new favorite person to talk to.
“Alright, love?”
She didn’t have to look up to know who it was. That familiar, cocky voice sent a nervous jolt straight through her. Slowly, she lifted her head, only to find Jamie leaning against her desk, arms crossed, signature smirk in place. It was too early in the morning for that level of handsomeness. Yup, Y/N had a crush on Jamie since she started working here. But, oh no, she would never make a move or even show it.
He grinned. “Hi, Jamie,” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice. “C’mon, you gotta give me more than that. Thought we were mates by now.”
Mates. Right. Because that was a normal way to describe their dynamic—Jamie showing up at her desk every day, teasing her until she was a flustered mess, then walking away like it was just another training session.
Y/N cleared her throat, fingers tightening on her pen. “Do you… need something?”
Jamie tilted his head. “Nah. Just here to check in on my favorite receptionist.”
She bit her lip. “I’m the only receptionist.”
“That’s what makes it so easy.” He winked. “Just wanted to see you.”
God, he was relentless. And it wasn’t just the flirting—it was how easy he made it look, how effortlessly charming he was. Her face went hot instantly, and she ducked her head, pretending to be very interested in the email she had already finished.
Every time he saw her, he had some new way to fluster her, whether it was winking at her from across the hallway, complimenting her dress, or just plain staring at her until she got nervous.
It wasn’t fair. He was a world-class footballer, and she was… well, the receptionist.
Before she could figure out how to respond, Will the kitman appeared, grinning. “Oh, is this the daily ‘Jamie makes Y/N blush’ session? Should I be taking bets?”
“Shut up, Will,” she mumbled, burying her face in her hands.
Jamie, completely unfazed, smirked. “You should. I’d win every time.”
Roy walked by just then, glancing at the scene before stopping. He squinted at Jamie, then looked at Y/N, who was still avoiding eye contact.
“What the fuck is goin’ on here? Is the prick bothering you?”
“Actually...Jamie’s bullying me,” Y/N blurted out and pointed at the latter, because she found it funny how Jamie shrunk in Roy's presence. She can be a tease if she wants to.
Jamie clutched his chest like he's been shot. “Bullying? Me? Love, I’m flirting. If I was bullying ya, you’d be crying.”
“I don't like any of you, but you,” Roy jabbed a finger at Jamie. “Quit makin’ her uncomfortable, Tartt.”
Jamie held up his hands in mock surrender. “She’s not uncomfortable. Are ya, love?”
Y/N hated that the question made her heart race. He was looking at her like she was the only person in the room, like her answer actually mattered.
“No! I mean—well—I—I mean, it’s fine,” she mumbled.
Jamie grinned like she had just told him she loved him. “See? She likes me.” Roy groaned.
Roy let out a long-suffering sigh. “You’re both fuckin’ idiots.” Then he jabbed a finger at Jamie. “Quit pissin’ her off.”
“Never,” Jamie shot back cheerfully.
Roy muttered something under his breath and stomped off.
Will snickered. “Roy’s gonna end up chaperoning your first date at this rate.”
Y/N let out a strangled noise. “There is no first date!”
Jamie, though, just smirked. “Not yet.” Then he winked and strolled off, leaving her an absolute, blushing mess at the front desk.
The next few days were worse.
Ever since Jamie’s little not yet comment, Y/N had been on high alert. She tried to convince herself that he was just joking, just messing with her like he always did. But then he started upping his game.
It wasn’t enough that he stopped by her desk every morning—no, now he had to wink at her across the hallway, greet her with a Good mornin’, love like he was starring in some kind of rom-com, and worst of all, he started waiting for her after work.
The first time it happened, she thought it was a coincidence.
“Oi, you’re taking really long,” Jamie said, leaning against the front doors of the clubhouse, arms crossed as she finally stepped outside.
She blinked. “What… are you doing here?”
“Waitin’ for ya, obviously,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “S’not safe for a pretty little thing like you to walk alone.”
Y/N nearly tripped over her own feet. “I—I always walk alone.”
Jamie frowned like this was a deeply troubling fact. “Well, that’s fuckin’ tragic, innit?”
She opened her mouth to argue, but Colin and Isaac, who where the last to leave besides the locker room, grinned. “Ooooh, bodyguard Jamie.”
Jamie smirked. “Damn right.”
“You’re not my bodyguard. He's really not.” Y/N muttered in her soft voice, slinging her bag around her shoulder.
Jamie only grinned wider. “Nah, but I could be.”
Colin gave her a pointed look. “You should just let him walk you home. You know he’s not gonna give up.”
Y/N sighed. They were both right—Jamie Tartt was nothing if not persistent.
So, against her better judgment, she let Jamie walk her home.
And then he did it again. And again.
And again.
By the end of the week, it was just a part of her routine, like he had wormed his way in without her even realizing. He’d meet her at the doors, hands in his pockets, waiting for her like he had all the time in the world. They’d talk, mostly about silly things—Jamie complaining about Roy, Y/N teasing him about his shoe obsession, Jamie trying to make her laugh.
And she did laugh. More than she had in a long time.
Which was exactly why it was terrifying.
Because Jamie Tartt was flirty, and charming, and kind, and so out of her league that it was almost funny.
And yet…
She caught him looking at her sometimes. Not in the way most guys did, not like she was just another girl to conquer. It was softer, something she couldn’t quite place. Like he actually liked being around her.
Which was ridiculous. Right?
She was still trying to make sense of it all when, one afternoon, the teasing from the team finally reached its peak.
She was organizing paperwork at her desk when Dani Rojas, Sam Obisanya, and Colin strolled past.
“Sooo, Jamie and the receptionist,” Dani said in a sing-song voice.
Y/N froze. Oh no.
Colin grinned. “Yup, they’d be cute together.”
“I think they are already together,” Sam added thoughtfully.
Y/N choked on absolutely nothing. “Uhm- No actually we are not together.”
Dani gasped. “But he walks you home every night!”
“That doesn’t mean anything!”
Sam and Colin exchanged a knowing look.
“But you like him,” Colin said, pointing at her.
“No, I don’t.”
“You do,” Sam said. “And he definitely likes you.”
Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but then—
“I definitely like who?”
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.
The universe hated her. That was the only explanation for why Jamie Tartt had appeared at the exact worst moment, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
Dani beamed. “We were just talking about how you and Y/N like each other.”
Y/N wanted the ground to swallow her whole.
Jamie, to his credit, didn’t even blink. He just turned to her, a slow, smug grin spreading across his face.
“I mean, I do.” he said, then turned to her. “That true, love, you like me?”
Y/N clenched her jaw, face burning. “I don't like any of you.” She mumbled.
Colin grinned. “That’s not a no.”
Jamie chuckled, eyes locked on her. “Don’t worry, love. You’ll admit it eventually.”
And then, just like always, he winked and walked off, leaving her to suffer.
Dani patted her shoulder sympathetically and ran out the door. “You should just date him.”
“I should just quit,” she muttered to herself.
But we all know she wouldn’t.
And maybe—just maybe—she didn’t really want to.
Y/N had two choices this next week:
Continue pretending that Jamie Tartt wasn’t blatantly flirting with her every single day.
Accept that she was completely, undeniably screwed.
She tried to go with Option 1. She really did. But then Jamie started making it impossible.
It wasn’t just the daily morning greetings anymore. Now, he even brought her coffee.
“Dunno what ya drink, so I got three different kinds”
He sat across from her at lunch even when she definitely did not invite him, and—worst of all—kept finding excuses to touch her.
A light hand on her shoulder when he walked past. A nudge of his knee against hers when they sat near each other. Once, when she had been carrying a heavy box of paperwork, he had taken it right out of her hands, smirking at her grumbled protests.
It was driving her insane.
She was still overthinking all of it when she got to work one morning and found Jamie already there, leaning against her desk like he had nothing better to do.
She frowned. “Why are you here before me?”
Jamie grinned. “Missed ya, didn’t I?”
Her brain short-circuited. “You—what?”
Jamie just shrugged like he hadn’t just sent her into cardiac arrest.
“I have missed you, did I not." he repeated himself doing his best to talk accent-free, as if she didn't understand him the first time.
"Also, I might’ve left my headphones in the gym. But mostly the first thing.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “You… are insufferable.”
“Yeah, but I assume you love it.”
She did not. Except—okay, maybe she didn’t hate it. And maybe, just maybe, she had started to enjoy their little routine. Fuck, she loved it.
Which was exactly why it was so unfair that Roy Kent had to go and ruin everything.
Because of course, right as Jamie was giving her one of those stupid flirty smirks, Roy appeared out of nowhere like a grumpy, swearing bat signal.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Y/N groaned. “Roy, Hi! Jamie was just—”
“No,” Roy cut her off, pointing aggressively between her and Jamie. “I cannot watch this anymore.”
Jamie blinked. “Watch what?”
Roy let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a growl. “This. The fuckin’ pining. The flirting. The lookin’ at each other like a couple of lovesick puppies.”
Y/N’s soul left her body. “We do not do that.”
“You absolutely do,” Roy grumbled pointing at Y/N. “ You're doin' it right fucking now! It’s disgustin’.”
Jamie, to his credit, didn’t even pretend to be offended. He just raised an eyebrow at Y/N. “So, you have been lookin’ at me?”
“I—no!”
Roy groaned. “Oh my fucking God.”
“Alright, alright,” Jamie said, laughing as he held up his hands. “I get it. You think we should just shag and get it over with.”
Y/N choked. “Jamie!”
Roy looked physically ill. “That is not what I’m sayin’.”
Jamie smirked. “So, you want me to take her on a proper date, then.”
Roy stared at him like he was debating whether or not to commit actual murder.
“I hate you,” Roy muttered. “But yeah, you’re both bein’ fuckin’ stupid, so someone’s gotta do somethin’ about it.”
Jamie turned back to Y/N, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You hear that, love? Roy Kent’s givin’ us his blessing.”
Y/N buried her face in her hands. “This is a nightmare.”
Roy let out another long-suffering sigh and turned to leave. “Just sort it out before I retire, yeah?”
Once he was gone, Y/N peeked up at Jamie, who was still smirking at her like she was the most amusing thing he’d ever seen.
“You do like me,” Jamie said smugly.
She groaned. “I am going to throw myself into the Thames.”
Jamie just grinned. “Nah, you won’t.”
Y/N didn’t know how it happened. It was the day after the incident.
One second, Jamie was teasing her at the front desk like usual, and the next—
“So, what time should I pick you up tomorrow?”
She blinked. “What?”
Jamie smirked. “Our date, love. Thought we should make it official, yeah?”
Official. As if this wasn’t already the most humiliatingly obvious crush in all of AFC Richmond. As if half the team hadn’t already been placing bets on when Jamie would finally get his act together and ask her out.
She swallowed hard. “You’re… serious?”
Jamie gave her a look. “Obviously. Been serious since the day I met ya.”
Her brain short-circuited.
“Um,” she said intelligently.
Jamie’s smirk softened into something… gentler. “Look, if you don’t wanna, that’s alright. I can handle rejection. Probably. I actually never been rejected,” He grinned. “But I reckon we’d have a good time.”
She was so screwed.
“…Seven?” she squeaked out.
Jamie beamed. “Seven’s perfect.”
And that was how Y/N found herself sitting across from Jamie Tartt at a very nice restaurant, wondering how she ended up here.
Jamie, to his credit, was being ridiculously sweet. No teasing, no cocky comments—just full-blown, charmingly attentive Jamie.
He pulled out her chair for her. He asked her about her day (and actually listened). He even gave her his jacket when she shivered, despite insisting she was fine.
But now, as she stared at the menu, her anxiety was creeping in.
The restaurant was a bit fancier than she was used to. And while she technically knew how to read a menu, the pressure of making a decision in front of Jamie was immense.
She didn’t want to pick something stupid. Didn’t want to mispronounce anything. Didn’t want to hold up the waiter.
So, when the server came over, she panicked and just pointed at something random.
The problem? It was not what she wanted.
She realized it too late, eyes widening as the waiter scribbled down the order and walked off.
Jamie noticed immediately. “What’s wrong?”
She hesitated. “I… I meant to order something else.”
Jamie tilted his head. “Why didn’t you just say so?”
She swallowed. “I—I didn’t want to be a bother.”
Jamie’s face softened.
“Babe,” he said, voice low and warm, “you’re never a bother.”
Before she could even process that, Jamie waved the waiter back over without hesitation.
“Hey, mate,” Jamie said easily. “Think we got the wrong order—she actually wanted the pasta.”
The waiter nodded, jotted it down, and walked away without a fuss.
Y/N, meanwhile, wanted to melt into the floor. “I could’ve just eaten the other thing…”
Jamie shook his head. “Nah. If you want pasta, you get pasta.”
She bit her lip. “I just—I don’t like making a fuss.”
Jamie leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he studied her.
“I get it,” he said. “But you don’t gotta be scared with me, yeah? I like lookin’ out for ya.”
Her heart did something stupid.
“…Okay,” she whispered.
Jamie grinned. “Good.”
And the thing was—he meant it.
All night, he made sure she was comfortable. He didn’t rush her when she had her shy moments, didn’t tease when she took a little longer to answer. Instead, he just smiled at her, soft and patient, like this—like her—was exactly where he wanted to be.
By the time the check came, Y/N had stopped second-guessing everything.
Because Jamie liked her, exactly as she was.
And maybe—just maybe—she was finally starting to believe it.
Jamie insisted on walking her home after the date.
“You know I always do that, love,” he had said when she tried to protest. “Can’t have ya gettin’ kidnapped, can I?”
She had rolled her eyes, but she didn’t fight him on it.
So now, they were strolling through the quiet streets, their hands occasionally brushing as they walked. Every time it happened, Y/N felt like she was about to combust, but Jamie acted like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“So,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence, “best date you’ve ever been on, yeah?”
Y/N smiled to herself. “You sound confident.”
Jamie smirked. “Well, obviously. I planned the whole thing, didn’t I?”
She laughed softly. “Alright, I’ll admit it—it was the best date I’ve ever been on.”
Jamie grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Yeah? Who knew I was a proper romantic?”
“You are,” she murmured, half to herself.
Jamie glanced at her, his smirk faltering into something softer. His voice dropped. “Careful, love. Keep talkin’ like that, and I might have to kiss ya.”
Her breath caught.
Jamie must’ve noticed, because his smirk came back—smaller now, more teasing than cocky. He nudged her shoulder with his. “Relax, I'm just joking, yeah? Not gonna do anything you’re not ready for.”
That was the thing about Jamie—he flirted, teased, pushed just enough to make her heart race, but never too far. He knew her limits, never made her feel like she had to do anything just because it was expected.
She liked that about him. Really liked that about him.
Maybe that’s why, as they reached her front door, she hesitated.
Jamie stood with his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Guess this is goodnight, then.”
She nodded, suddenly nervous.
Jamie chuckled. “You’re lookin’ at me like you wanna say somethin’.”
She swallowed hard, gathering every ounce of courage she had. “I just… wanted to thank you. For tonight.”
Jamie tilted his head. “Was my pleasure, love.”
She took a shaky breath. “It really was the best date I’ve ever been on.”
Jamie’s expression softened. “Yeah?”
She nodded.
And then, before she could overthink it—before she could let the nerves ruin it—she leaned up on her toes and kissed him.
It was quick, just a press of her lips against his, but Jamie froze like she had just short-circuited his entire brain.
By the time she pulled back, her face was burning. “Um. Goodnight.”
She turned, reaching for her keys, but before she could even get the door open, Jamie’s voice stopped her.
“Oi.”
She turned hesitantly.
Jamie was grinning. Beaming.
“That was—” he said, voice warm and full of love, “you are full of surprises.”
And with that, he gave her one last lingering look before stepping back, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked away.
Y/N stood there for a moment, heart racing, before slipping inside and leaning against the door.
She had kissed Jamie Tartt.
And by the look on his face—he was definitely going to kiss her again.
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weekendviking · 3 days ago
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Oh fuck yeah.
One time I was on a remote exploration drilling and field mapping job in the Yilgarn Craton in West Australia (Kimberlites! Diamonds! Archaen Banded Iron Formations!), and with just me, the driller, and two offsiders, so all hands on deck, all the time, both due to the work, and just the extreme environment and living difficulties in a desert camp, several hundred km from Paraburdoo, the nearest town. Not uber remote, but definitely outback, and if you fuck up, dying is extremely possible.
Anyway, in the first week, the driller suggested that we could even the workload by bringing out a friend of his who was an experienced camp cook, and at face value, this seemed like a good idea, and within the budget for the job, freeing us up from some of the camp domestic tasks to concentrate more on the drilling for them, and on the core logging for me, and my field mapping work (not required, but I did it anyway because I was suspicious the Joint Venture partners had falsified their data, which they had, but that's a different story!)
However, new drill team staffer was not doing well. Yes, she could do the work, but was clearly mentally in a bad state, and even though the Driller was trying to keep a lid on it, we could all see that she was in severe distress.
It came to a head after another week or so, when, as was my schedule, I'd go out and do the field mapping work in the mornings when it was cool, come back to camp around 11 to catch an early lunch, and then head down to the drilling site to log the core in the afternoons when it was too hot to be running around the hills.
Pull up to camp, Cook is sitting at the table under the awning, slightly slumped. I get out, walk up, and she's bleeding from the back of both wrists. The Back, mind, across the veins, not the arteries, so oozing badly but Not Actually Going To Die Soon. She was clearly embarrassed to be discovered in this state by 'The Whitecollar Guy', and produced a poor excuse of having cut herself prepping the days meals, and I didn't gainsay that, as one is clearly not going to further stress or question someone partway through a suicide attempt, just deal gently with them and help them. I pulled my field medkit from the car, and started to prep to treat the cuts, with both of us doing the 'We know You know I know this was a suicide attempt but lets just put that aside and not talk about it' dance, but she did at this point say 'Oh, I'm hepatitis positive' so at that point I Paused Bigtime and gloved up properly, (and also mentally 'Then why the fuck are you allowed to be the (admittedly tiny company) company cook' was running through my brain).
Treated the cuts, got her cleaned up and had a quiet chat, then got on the radio to the drill site and got the driller down to camp, and had a quiet chat with him, to whit 'Ok, I don't know what you were thinking but you need to get her safely off site and back to Perth and to a good facility because she's clearly going through it bad'
Turned out that she was his partner, and had been having difficulty getting clean off intravenous drug use (hence the Hepatitis positive) and he'd thought 'If I get her out in the bush where she can't get the shit maybe that will help her dry up'. So the poor lass was going through a hard cold turkey withdrawal while stuck in a tent and caravan camp in the middle of fucking nowhere while having to do a Job on a lax, but still corporate, work site. Don't do that, guys.
We had her offsite and on a plane back to Perth that evening. I hope she recovered, but I never did hear any further news.
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witherby · 1 day ago
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Thinking naughty Brucie Wayne thoughts cause you KNOW he sluts around in order to maintain that playboy reputation.
Imagining Brucie on an evening gossip show and he's playing a game where he's sharing light-hearted secrets with the host. It's called some shit like...I dunno, "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours!"
"Okay, we gotta be careful with the wording here because we're on live television," the host laughs, "but I have a question."
"Ask me anything, baby, I'm an open book," Bruce purrs. The live studio audience whistles and cheers.
"What's your darkest sexual fantasy? I'll tell you mine —"
"IF YOU TELL ME YOURS!!" The audience shouts, clapping and cheering with ridiculous enthusiasm. Bruce, who has impeccable control over his body's nervous system, turns beet red and covers his face. His heartbeat is still as steady as a war drum. World's Greatest Detective and also World's Best motherfuckin Actor.
"oh shit," he mutters. The cheering gets even louder. "I can't say it out loud. I've never told anybody this before, it's insane."
The host is Locked The Fuck In. Exclusive information nobody else has about Brucie Wayne, Gotham's precious prince? He can smell the trending hashtags already.
"Oh?" He goads, grinning and leaning forward in his chair. "Is it really bad? Brucie, you dog! I didn't know you had it in you! We gotta know, now!"
"Skip," Bruce says shyly, "next question!"
The audience boos and starts chanting some iteration of "tell us! Tell us!" The host shushes them and says it's fine, he'll go first and they'll both be a little embarrassed about it. No big deal, it's just a fun game! What's a little spicy secret between friends, we're all friends here, it's fine!
The host's is boring. Something like Toes or edible underwear. Bruce shyly says he can't say it, and asks if he can write it down instead. The host is like yes, absolutely, someone fetch this man a pen and paper RIGHT NOW.
Brucie writes it down. The host reads it. He gasps.
"Okay everybody, shhh. This says...I want to — BRUCE?"
Bruce reddens more and is as curled up as he can possibly get in his big chair. The audience is feral at this point.
"It says "I want a priest to give his virginity to me." Bruce Thomas Wayne!!!"
There's an uproar. People are whistling. Women are screaming. Catholics are clutching their pearls. There's so much clapping. Some people are laughing. When everybody settles down enough to let him explain, Bruce, still red in the face, just stares meekly at the ground and mutters:
"I dunno, it's so wicked. I wanna be like Lucifer with the apple. I want a son of God to turn away from His light and be tempted into my bed. If God is actually homophobic and being gay gets you sent to Hell, — first of all, fuck that guy — and second of all, at the very least I want him to get a taste of Heaven in the sheets, y'know?"
#DamnedByBrucie is the number one trending topic for the next four days. Priests are coming out of the woodwork and sending him genuine offers to take their virginity. Hal buys a priest outfit immediately. Bruce is so down to roleplay this even though that wasn't even close to his darkest sexual fantasy.
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mcu-fan-fics-blog · 2 days ago
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Routine V
Mini Series
Wanda Maximoff x fem wife!reader
Summary: Routines can get tiring quickly, especially when you’re the only one working towards keeping them.
A/n: We meet again friends. I am very happy to be updating this fic once more. Also happy to inform that I have found a direction in which to take it!!! I hope you enjoy reading it.
Word count: 1400 approx
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She was at a crossroads, there was nothing that she could do to stop you from leaving. She hadn’t stopped pacing the room since you left. That's when she saw it… Her saving grace. Maybe if she did this one thing she could at least open the door if not maybe just unlock it, something. At this point that was definitely better than nothing. Your passport and what looked like important papers were left sitting on the kitchen counter. You had left in a furious haze, something was meant to be left behind. You just didn’t think it would be your passport and work visa. That was the one thing that you thought you had in lock, the one thing that you couldn't forget… And you forgot it. Truthfully you knew that something was missing the moment that you stepped into the car with Kate, but you chalked it up to the stress that Wanda had caused.   
There was a time that anything that remotely felt like a fight was a no go. You never wanted to fight with Wanda, nothing about arguing with her seemed pleasant. In the beginning it was obvious she was scared and all of it was new. You danced around obvious issues the two of you had. One issue was a rather big one being Vision. It was strange their connection. It was something you knew would have easily gone the other way had you not been in the picture. They understood each other; you felt like the odd man out in your own relationship with her. It wasn’t until you exploded one day that the issue was addressed. Thinking back Wanda should have seen this coming. It almost ended the relationship before it really even began. She was tempted to call you, she really was. But she’d just crossed a very big boundary. Instead she texted Kate.
Her text was read almost immediately the text bubble kept appearing but nothing was sent. Wanda instead sent another message. ‘I’ll meet you at the gate, lose Y/n for a minute and I’ll give you her passport.’ She only received a thumbs up and she was on her way. It was high time Wanda started taking action. She wasn’t going to fail you now. 
You were lying. You had no idea where you got the confidence from but it was a complete lie. You loved her so much it hurt. She didn’t read your mind that time and it hurt that she believed you. Tears welled in your eyes, this day wasn’t supposed to go like this. You were supposed to leave peacefully, and now you had no idea what you were doing. She shook you. Wanda came into your life and turned it upside down and now she’s done it again. It was rough. Kate had been fidgety for the past twenty minutes. “Are you okay?” You managed to get the words out. She stilled wide eyed. “Uhm shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You hummed. “Probably… I’m just tired of the same thing over and over again.” You sighed. “There are so many things that I wanted to say. But she was right in front of me and the words disappeared.” Kate nodded, her eyes still fixed on the road. 
“Do you think… that uhm you’ll get back together?” She asked the obvious question. It only made your shoulders deflate more. Not because she asked, “It’s not up to me.” but because of how pitiful the answer was. And it was entirely up to her. You hadn't even been able to bring yourself to draft the papers. The fear that she’d actually sign them still managed to keep you up at night. What if she did, what then? “My heart… it aches constantly. Like something was ripped from me.” Kate cleared her throat. “You’re leaving Y/n… You're going abroad for god knows how long.” You nodded. “How else can I show her what she’s doing to me? Years Kate I’ve put up with it for years.” Kate nodded. “I did not suffer in silence, I let her know at every turn how she was compromising us.” Your words were laced with anger and conviction. And so quickly the sadness gave way to raw anger.  
Wanda felt she should have thought this entire situation out more. Here she was in her car on her way to the airport, filled with hundreds if not thousands of people. And the most daunting part being that you’re unaware. Her mind was already starting to hold her hostage. She made the treck mostly on autopilot. Then there was the whole getting through security, nothing her powers couldn’t handle. Only she somehow couldn’t. She had not felt this lack of control since ultron, she was tripping where she had learned repeatedly not to. It was overwhelming navigating through the masses of people trying to get to their flights, homes, families. Everyone's thoughts traversed constantly. Eventually and not without struggle she had found Kate, near a coffee shop.
“Finally! I thought you’d make this hard for me.” Kate’s words washed right through her. The only thing she could hear now was an angry ring, mocking her. She shook her head softly trying to dissipate the sound. Then she stilled, she could sense it. Her powers out of pure reflex sought you out. And another pang of sadness ran through her. She’d never been able to sense your anger. A slap in the face a testament as to how unwelcome she truly was. A tug at her arm brought her back. She was clutching your passport in her hand. The folder already in Kate’s possession. Kate sighed. “Are you okay?” She relented and finally asked the question. That seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she was in. She let go of the Passaport like it burned her. Kate noticed her distress and asked again. “My powers… are acting up, I'll be fine.” Kate nodded, not fully convinced. 
Kate had decided she’d throw Wanda a life line. She did not think someone could make a change so drastically in a matter of hours. This Wanda that was standing in front of her was not the same one she witnessed yell indignantly at you. This Wanda looked defeated, vulnerable. “She’s still waiting for you…” Kate said. Taking the woman in, and for a moment she wasn’t sure Wanda had heard her. Then tears started rolling down her face. “I don’t think she is…” the words came out tersely and clipped. “She's angry, she has every right to be. That doesn’t change the fact that she’s waiting… so give her time.” Kate sighed, taking a step back. “Fight for her…” She turned on her heel and walked away. Wanda seconds later managed to do the same. Her resolve slowly cemented.
Kate made her way back just as you started looking for her. She looks slightly flushed. Two coffees in hand, a folder tucked in between her arm and torso. Your eyes widened at the sight. “I didn’t even realize I was missing that!” You exclaimed. Taking a cup out of her hand, and the folder at the same time. “Kate, you're a lifesaver.” She nodded, taking a long sip of her drink. Then silence followed, you could have sworn you felt something. It made your heart race. You remembered the familiar feeling. A slight fuzz just out of reach in your mind. You couldn’t help but look around. Could it be, or was it just her lingering in your mind. Then once again Kate brought you back into the present. “Here your boarding group is about to be called.” Kate pulled you up from your seat making toward the line now forming.
Right as your ticket was scanned. She pulled you to the side slightly. “Promise you’re coming back.” You managed a small smile. “I will, I don’t think your mother will keep me away forever.” You joked. Keeping an eye on the people boarding. Kate nodded trying to reassure herself. “You forgot your passport… she brought them here. That's why I was gone for a minute.” Your heart started racing. “I didn’t want to keep it from you.” Then before you could even respond an airline worker was ushering through into the boarding tunnel. The last thing Kate managed to say was for you to call her when you landed. 
A/n: Please leave a like if you liked it!!! Late because I completely forgot to schedule. :(
Tag list: @fxckmiup @username23345 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ 
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fishingisuniversal · 1 day ago
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Imagine you're a mentally ill twenty year old who had to move out of your parents basement because you and your dad had a violent falling out after your mom's death. You spend the next year taking depression naps and ignoring all your problems till two, admittedly hot, assholes break in, try to beat the shit out of you, then recruit you into a quest to kill your dad who is now on a suicide mission to irrevocably fuck Up the entire world because of what happened to your mom. They're trusting you, looking to you for answers you don't have, to kill a man you don't want dead, but you're just twenty years old and the only thing you're sure of is that you miss your mom. You travel across the country for weeks fighting monsters created by your Evil Dad who you have a Complicated Relationship with, and grow closer to the guys that broke into your house, relearning what family and love mean, and maybe accidentally getting into a situationship with both of them until you do actually succeed in killing your dad. Well, your dad dies. Actually, he kills himself in front of you while sobbing and apologizing for everything he did wrong in your life, but he's dead now! Then your only two friends in the world confess their love to one another and fuck off to go fight more monster while you're stuck in your now empty childhood home that's somehow haunted by you as much as it is your dead parents. After slowly spiralling back into depression and having to kill two people you thought cared about you, you rediscover your purpose and save a town full of people, bringing them back to your castle for safety just as your besties (really seems like you're part of a polycule now but communications never been a strong suit for any of you) return and help you save the world again.
But also you're immortal and soon everyone around you dies and you're forced to be content protecting the lineage of your closests friends as you desperately try and stop their children and their children's children from making the same mistakes.
My point is that Alucard is truly God's strongest soldier because I probably would have made Trevor and Sypha vampires.
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peanutpinet · 2 days ago
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Im really loving your sylus x innocent mc stories!! I was wondering what if Innocent Mc is sick or gotten hurt while Sylus is in the middle of a business deal, and when he finds out, he immediately leaves to go take care of mc. 🥺💖
Healer - Sylus x Sick Innocent Fem Reader
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A/N: hi anon, thank you for being patient!! I have a lil something for you and for everyone especially with the 3.0 update! I won't spill anything so I hope you all enjoy reading this little fic and thank you for reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest and credit goes to the image's respective owners.
Warnings: threatening, blood
If Sylus could just kill everyone in the room and be done for the day, he would. But unfortunately, there was nothing that was reasonable enough to do so.
Luke and Kieran told him about “highly” businessman that wanted to make a deal regarding the protocores Sylus had. Saying that he’s willing to invest in the business that Sylus had going around if he were to be given a fraction of Sylus’ protocore collection. Of course, Sylus knew what this man specifically wanted. As much as he wants this to end quickly to get to you, Sylus loves to make his victims pretend that they got the upper hand before he turn the tables.
But the more this meeting drags on, Sylus realised something. You didn’t text him at all today. You just told him that you had to go into town for some errands but that was at 8am while it was already 5pm and there had been none information regarding you for the past 9 hours which is unheard of throughout your relationship with Sylus since the beginning.
Though Sylus already sent the twins and mephisto to look for you, he was still restless. Sylus tries to think of all other more “reasonable” scenarios. Maybe you forgot to bring your charger and your phone died in the middle of the day. Maybe you were at a friend’s place and you left your phone on do not disturb or perhaps…
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a bad feeling when he heard the twins chatter loudly when he was at the end of the hall in the meeting room.
Without thinking, Sylus bolted out of the meeting room, immediately telling the business partner he’ll rearrange another meeting. When his business partner was threatening him, Sylus didn’t hesitate to point his gun at them. “Accept my offer to reschedule while I’m being sane unless you want me to expose all of your dirty little secrets to the world? I’m sure with how the taxes to everything increasing, it’s going to be hard to get the materials you need without my help”
Luckily, his business partner held both his hands up in defeat, making Sylus smirked. “Wise decision”. Sylus signalled his other men to handle his business partner and his men while he went to see what happened to you.
Sylus knew that no matter what, Luke and Kieran would always bring you back to your shared bedroom. It was practically a sacred place for the both of you. A safe haven, a place where the two of you can be yourself, took care one another, and spend time to be with each other.
Sylus felt the walk down the hall back to his shared bedroom felt further than usual. Halfway through the hallways, Mephisto perched itself on Sylus’ shoulder, cawing at its owner as if it was trying to give Sylus a heads up.
However, before Mephisto could show Sylus anything, the door to his shared room with you was opened and it revealed Luke and Kieran who looked worried despite the masks they wore. “Boss…” the twins let out a soft sigh of relief seeing Sylus came.
“Care to fill me in on what happened?” Sylus questioned his two most trusted men, knowing that these twins cared for you just as much as he did (Sylus definitely still cared for you the most)
“There was blood, boss” Kieran started, and it sent chills throughout Sylus’ body. “Yeah. We didn’t know how it happened. When you told us to find the miss, we didn’t expect there’d be blood” Luke added on
“She also started moving in a dizzy way” Kieran pointed out “She almost fainted when we brought her back. We don’t know how to help stop the bleeding” Luke added on more and by now Sylus couldn’t take it and barged into the room, leaving the twins in the hallway
“Sweetie?!” Sylus called out to you and hearing your groan, he immediately went to the bed, seeing you bundled under layers of bed covers and blanket “It hurts sy…” you whimpered and Sylus didn’t waste time to get into bed and pulled you to him. “Tell me what happened, where does it hurt? How much blood did you lose?”
Sylus gently stroke your head, kissing your forehead and allowing you to snuggled closer to his large body. “J-just, just like every other month”
It was then Sylus realised what actually happened and immediately checked his phone. Noticing the reminder, Sylus let out an annoyed sigh “Those twins…they almost made me pull my heart out”
“Sy…” you mumbled and Sylus snapped back at your weaken self
“I know sweetie. I know. You lay back down yeah? I’ll have the chef immediately cook you some warm soup and I’ll bring painkillers” Sylus gently laid you back, pulling up the layers of blanket to keep you warm, kissing your forehead again
“Are you angry?” you managed to asked despite your weak state
“You had me worried a bit but I can never be angry at you, sweetie. What happened to your phone though?” Sylus asked
“I forgot to charge it last night and was only 15% left when I went out. M’sorry” you mumbled, trying to sleep while Sylus shook his head, caressing your cheek
“I understand sweetie. You were out of it since last night. I’m sorry I didn’t notice. I’ll help make sure that your phone is always charged but for now, you try to rest a bit more while I get you some warm soup and painkillers along with your favorite sweets then I’ll cuddle you until you’re better”
Sylus placed one last gentle kiss on your forehead before leaving the room to get the things he said he would get.
“So?! Did you manage to stop the bleeding boss?” Luke asked
“If he looked calmer now, everything must be okay with the miss, right?” Kieran asked as well
Sylus stopped in his tracks before giving the twins a side glare. “You two, my office now. Once I’m back, I’ll make sure the two of you are educated and understand the human anatomy of a woman and her struggles of bleeding every single month”
The twins had never seen their boss looked so serious and menacing towards them which meant they had made a grave mistake. “W-what do you mean boss?” the twins asked as Sylus turned around, his aether core was practically glowing a crimson red colour. “She was on her damn period yet the two of you made it sound like she was bleeding to death! I swear if any of you give me this kind of heart attack again, I’ll have to start cutting your allowances”
The twins rushed to Sylus’ office in fear and started to look up about period, educating themselves everything about it while Sylus took care of you. It’s safe to say that by the next crack of dawn, the twins would understand more about periods and how they could help you if it happened again when Sylus wasn’t around.
A/N: yup, was about periods LMAO
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sojumamii · 2 days ago
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༊·˚puppy love༊·˚
pt.1 pt.2
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summary: After getting over the initial shock of Megumi's new look, the brainstorming begins!
tags: megumi x f!reader, crack, evil puppy, yaga has a hit on gojo's life,swearing. unedited.
✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:
Part 2 is finaaaaally here! I’m so sorry this took so long, the beginning of 2025 has been quietly chaotic over here at sojumamii inc. I also kept changing my mind on how this chapter was going to go.
But fuck it we ball! I hope you guys really enjoy this chapter! I swear it that part 3 won’t take nearly as long to upload! Please let me know your thoughts and if you have any theories on Megumi’s little predicament! 
✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:
"Wow. Oh my god." Shoko's tired eyes widen, her jaw dropped at the sight of three students (well four) and a small ball of fur in your arms.
"I had thought Gojo was kidding when he called, but Megumi's literally...a puppy...." she says blankly her mind unable to process the sight of the usually calm and collected Megumi now turned into a fluffy little dog. She chalked up Gojo's earlier phone call regarding Megumi's curse as just another one of his bad jokes or an elaborate way to waste her time. 
Yuji sheepishly rubs the back of head, chuckling nervously at the nurse's shocked gaze, being expressive isn't exactly something Shoko is known for.
You sigh offering the nurse a soft smile,"Trust me I wish he was, any way you can check him out?" you ask, gesturing to Megumi fast asleep in your arms.  
Shoko nods,"Hmm..I'm no veterinarian, but lets see. Set him down on the examining table." she states while pulling on her white lab coat.
Gently you lay Megumi's miniature body onto the infirmary bed, scratching at his head with your finger to wake him up,"Hey Gumi, you gotta wake up now we have to let Shoko check you out," you whisper soothingly.
Megumi's dark eyes flutter open at your coaxing, he looks at you with curiosity then sits up on all four legs, yawning cutely with an audible chirp. You coo unable to help finding him so cute as a puppy, especially sleepy and tiny.
"Fushiguro's actually cute as a little mutt when he's not being a yappy rat..." Nobara quips, pursing her lips at the pomeranian in question. Yuji nods but elbows the auburn haired girl nervously," Yeah he's adorable but careful he does bite remember.." making Nobara scoff and roll her eyes, muttering an ‘oh i wish he would' threateningly under her breath.
Shoko laughs at your antics, gently scooping Megumi with one hand up to her   chest and checking his heartbeat with the stethoscope she asks the million dollar question even you want to know,"So...how'd he end up like this?" 
You turn around to the disaster twins expectantly and raise an eyebrow urging them to answer the question.
"I also want to know, I told them to explain once they got here." 
Both students tense up and after a beat of silence, Nobara elbows Yuji, shoving him in front of her. He turns around with an aghast expression of betrayal on his boyish features.
"Thanks alot Kugisaki!" The pink haired boy whines his toned pointed and annoyed.
Both you and Shoko look at them impatiently, making Yuji sigh and clear his throat. Megumi is set down, sitting up on the bed and yips at his two friends as if saying,'stop fooling around!'
"So..." He begins,"We were dispatched on a mission to check out an abandoned pet store that had an intense amount of curses attracted to it, meaning obviously there was either an even stronger curse or cursed object they were drawn to." Yuji takes a deep breath,"And when it turned out to be a grade 1 curse we had to put up an extra fight-" Yuji huffs in exasperation,"It hit Kugisaki pretty hard so when I went to check on her it let out a pretty scary attack and Fushiguro over here jumped in front of it for us while his divine dog dealt the finishing blow and well....was cursed into a puppy..." Yuji trails off, eyeing Megumi's puffy body with a nervous smile.
You and Shoko sigh taking in the information. You lean down to get face to face with your boyfriend, raising an eyebrow your hands on your hips ,"Oh...so you're like this because you decided to play hero." scoffing you continue,"Serves you right, you could've just let totality tank the attack and then all three of you woulda been okay." you pick him up and look him in the eye,"tch...bad boy..." 
Megumi thrashes and grumbles, feeling embarrassed to be scolded by you not only in front of everyone...but literally being scolded like a dog.
"Do we know anything else about this curse?" Shoko inquires, observing Megumi in your arms.
Nobara shakes her head,"Not really no," she lets out a sigh,"All we know is that it was a grade 1 and lived in an abandoned pet store, its powers weren't documented. Gojo said he was going to see if Nanami or Yaga could get ahold of any more information. He didn’t even give us much information beforehand either.” she grumbles
Your expression changes into a more serious one,"So it's unknown if the curse has turned others into animals? It's odd that it didn't wear off once the curse got exorcised..." you trail off, unconsciously scratching Megumi's head, making his puffy tail wag furiously as he chases your touch.
Yuji snickers, quietly pointing at Megumi's tiny body going boneless in relaxation.
You look down and laugh at how natural he is as a puppy, cooing as you stroke his fur,"Well it doesn't seem like he minds being like this very much..." you quip. There's a soft bout of laughter in the room when Megumi whips his head back up, snapping back into reality when he feels eyes on him.
The puffy pomeranian jumps out of your arms onto the hospital bed, sneezing indignantly stomping his tiny paws in embarrassment and protest.
As you're about to tease him again, both Yaga and Nanami step into the threshold of the door knocking to announce themselves.
"My god Satoru wasn't joking-the boy's really a damn dog!" Yaga gasps in disbelief removing his sunglasses and rubbing his eyes harshly.
Nanami's breath hitches,"Fushiguro..? I presumed that idiot was just being as foolish as usual…but wow.” the ex-salaryman takes a few steps over to infirmary bed, leaning down to eye level with Megumi, inspecting him,”At the very least, is he alright?”
Megumi lets out a scrappy bark as an answer to his question, unintentionally rumbling in satisfaction when Nanami scratches his head. 
“Well he’s healthy and uninjured, and as you saw can understand us” Shoko affirms,”But my reversed curse technique won’t restore him back to normal.”
You look to the principal and Nanami,”Oh right, these two said Gojo was going to see if you guys knew anything about the curse or knew anything about it?” 
Yaga sighs in indignation,”When I dispatched that mission for the students I told Satoru everything we had regarding the curse and what had been happening. Either that fool forgot or didn’t care to warn any of you,” his tone is that of frustration, his eyes falling to Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara.
Nanami adds,” Ijichi and myself revisited the sight of the mission and talked to locals in the area to get more information.” he crosses his arms growing serious,”Apparently there have been multiple accounts of people suddenly being turned into puppies and haven’t changed back since.”
All of you gasp Megumi himself tensing up. To calm him down you scoop him into your arms and stroke his fur, your eyes regarding him with worry and empathy,”Oh Gumi…don’t worry…”
“Does that mean Fushiguro’s gonna be like this forever?! There’s gotta be something we can do?!” Yuji exclaims. Everyone looks to the poor puppy in your arms in deep concern.
“Will you all please calm down. You didn’t let me finish.” Nanami sighs,”The curse itself was born from spite and vengeance of...” he closes his eyes, tipping his head back from the ridiculousness of what he’s going to say.
“Nanami come on-“ you urge.
“A puppy.”
There’s a pause, the silence in the room is loud.
“A PUPPY?!” everyone yells in disbelief. 
Yaga confirms Nanami’s statement,”That’s correct and it’s PRECISELY what I told Satoru.”
“But how can that be? I thought only a human’s negative emotions could create a curse- how could a dog possibly feel so much it creates a curse?” you shriek, swiftly holding out Megumi to stare at his boxy little face.
Yaga takes a seat in one of the chairs massaging his temple,”Negative emotions are negative emotions regardless of who or what makes them. This puppy had a particular vitriol towards an employee who scolded it once, and also had a dislike towards other dogs that said employee praised and rewarded. Frankly I myself can’t wrap my head around it- nothing like this has ever been seen so far in sorcerer history…” he sighs in resigantion
Everyone is beyond bewildered, how can this be?
“I-I don’t even know what to think…that’s so bizarre…” Shoko stutters out, Nobara nodding in stunned agreement.
“So a curse was born from an anti-social grumpy and jealous puppy…it made a curse that turns people into puppies out of SPITE?” you belabor, under normal circumstances you’d laugh, the puppy sounds like Megumi’s  but it’s so ridiculous… and without any knowledge or hindsight not a single one of you can even know if it’s reversible. 
“It would seem so…” Nanami confirms, removing his sunglasses, looking at Megumi in your arms with tense concern. Said boy deflates,”A malevolent puppy is a rather farfetched idea..”
Yuji has stayed uncharacteristically quiet. Stuck in serene concentration in the corner of the room, he snaps his fingers perking up suddenly,”WAIT! I got it!”
You all look at him, some in confusion, others expectantly.
“The puppy didn’t get along with other dogs and people right? What if the answer to breaking the curse is getting along and making friends with them!”  the pink haired boy concludes with a sparkle of hope in his hazel eyes.
Nanami and Yaga think for a moment, you and Megumi stare at each other in a silent conversation.
“That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard-“ Nobara interjects
“He may have a point.” You interrupt,”It makes a lot of sense actually, if the puppy was just mad it had no friends, it’s a very logical conclusion to come to.” you send a grateful sweet smile to your friend,”Thanks, Yuji. This a good place to start.” 
The adults in the room nod in agreement. It’s a sound theory, turn a malevolent puppy, into sweet and sociable? 
Yuji shyly rubs the back of his head, his face flushed an endearing red,”Ah. W-Well y-you know anything to help out Fushiguro, y’know?”
Megumi not liking the interaction ,lets out a low growl that you can feel in arms. He bares his teeth towards Yuji, making his best friend chuckle nervously. Waving his hands in panic Yuji rapidly defends himself with amusement,”Woah Fushiguro, down boy geez!”
You scoff fondly, covering Megumi’s little face with your palm,”Be nice. That’s what started this whole mess.” making said puppy thrash and grumble until he eventually placates himself.
“It’s a long shot and not guaranteed to change Fushiguro back, but it doesn’t hurt to try while we find something more concrete.”  Yaga gets up to stretch,”I trust you can play well with others Fushiguro, you three keep us posted. Shoko keep monitoring his health. Nanami and I will try to double check any records for similar cases.” Both sorcerers make their way out,”Oh and by the way, if you see Satoru, let him know my fist is waiting to meet him upside the head.”
All four of you chuckle amusedly, silently hoping you can get a front row seat to Gojo’s ass beating.
You hold Megumi up to look him mischievously in his large dark eyes,”Well well Guuuumi,” you say sing-songy,”Looks like the day I’ve been waiting for is finally here!”  Megumi grumbles with a whine, knowing exactly what you’re getting at.
‘Guuumi can I please put blush on you?! You’d look soo cuute!’
‘Gumi can I put on these hair clips on you!? They’re Baditzmaru! He looks just like you!’
‘Pleaaaase your lashes are so pretty, it would be a waste to not put on eye glitter!.
‘God damn it...’  Megumi thinks as he flashes back to all the times you’ve turned him into your personal doll, though 90% of the time he indulges you because he can’t resist the bright sparkle in your wide eyes, and the sweet pouty look on your face or the convincing lilt in your voice that tugs at his heartstrings. But now
Now you have completely free reign.
“You’re gonna be the cutest dog in the park! Everyone will be flocking to be your friend!” you beam, cooing as you press little kisses to his face. 
“You guys ready?” you turn to your friends with an excited determination.
Yuji and Nobara match your expression, pumping their fists in the air,”Operation turn Fushiguro is a go!” 
✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚:
Requests are open!
Bye for now! <3 
tags: @kxllanxtdoor
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mediocre-shark-tales · 3 days ago
Text
End of the First Season
Masterlist
Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming
Tumblr media
After the season wrapped up, I finally found a moment of calm. The chaos of F1 had slowed, and I was allowed a little breathing room. But even with the peace, I couldn't shake the constant ache in my body. I thought the bruising I had gotten from the Abu Dhabi crash would eventually subside, but it never did. Every day, it seemed to hurt a little more, so I finally caved and went to the doctor to get checked out.
I wasn’t prepared for the news. It wasn’t just bruising. My ribs had cracked, and so had a bone in my right forearm. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks—no wonder I’d been hurting so much. But, being me, I just shrugged it off. If there was one thing I’d learned over this crazy season, it was how to power through. And if I could make it through that wreck, I could handle a couple cracked bones, right?
I needed to break the news, of course, but I had a little fun with it. I posted on Instagram, sharing all the high points of my 2024 season—my wins, my podiums, the laughs, the frustrations. But as the last picture in the post, I slid in a photo collage of my X-rays. Just for the shock value, of course. 
The response was exactly what I expected. I saw the comments flood in—fans, media, and especially the drivers. They were all so concerned, immediately freaking out about me being in pain, even though I was smiling through it all. Some of the messages I got were hilarious, like Lando calling me crazy for not telling him sooner. “You’re seriously not a robot, right?” he texted me, complete with a couple of eye-roll emojis.
And then there was Max. Max Verstappen. He was texting me every five minutes, demanding I go see another doctor. "You should’ve told me. I would've taken care of it for you." Like he was going to fly out to Monaco just to be my personal healthcare assistant. I almost laughed at how protective he was being, but honestly, it was sweet.
Liam, of course, had the most dramatic reaction. "y/n, what the hell?! Why didn’t you tell me about this?" he practically screamed down the phone. "This could’ve been a big deal! You could’ve been seriously hurt!"
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Liam, calm down. I’m fine. I’ve been dealing with it. It’s just some cracked bones.”
But he wasn’t having it. "That’s not something you ‘just deal with.’ You need to get checked out, properly. I’m seriously getting worried now."
At that point, I had to assure him—no more freaking out. Everyone was so sweet, though. Even Carlos sent a message telling me to take it easy and that he was looking forward to seeing me next season. “Just don’t go crashing again, okay?”
I even caught a text from Fernando, who simply said: “You’re strong, but next time… maybe take it easy?”
The support from all the drivers was overwhelming, but honestly, it was what I needed. The kind words, the check-ins, it made me feel like I had a big family backing me up.
I had also made the decision recently to buy an apartment in Monaco. It wasn’t something I’d planned at first, but Lando convinced me it was the perfect move. He was all about the idea of having me live close by so we could hang out in the off-season when I wasn’t visiting family back in the U.S. Plus, Monaco seemed like the kind of place where I could really start fresh, living on my own but still be surrounded by people who understood the craziness of F1 life. Lando lives just above me, and we joke that I’m now not on "Lando’s level".
It’s been nice, honestly. I can walk around without the chaos of a race weekend looming over me, and sometimes, it feels like a different world entirely. Having drivers around gives me a sense of comfort, knowing I’m never too far from a friend, and I love that Lando is nearby for spontaneous hangouts. He’s been a solid support system, and having him in Monaco means I never really feel alone. It’s just nice, knowing that someone’s always nearby, especially after everything I’ve been through.
Franco and I were sitting in the lounge of my new Monaco apartment, just a couple of glasses of wine between us as we talked about the future. There was this quiet tension in the air—nothing too obvious, but we both knew what it felt like. He was leaning back on the couch, legs stretched out in front of him, eyes focused on the half-empty glass in his hand, but I could tell he wasn’t really looking at it.
He sighed, finally breaking the silence. “I don’t know what’s next for me, to be honest. Alpine offered me a reserve driver contract with them, but it's basically the same thing I have at Williams. The only real difference is that they are telling me they will take Jack out of his seat if he doesn’t do well. So I get paid more and have a more likely chance at racing again with them or I get loyalty points and probably never seat the steering wheel for another season with Williams.” His voice carried this layer of frustration I hadn’t heard from him before. He ran a hand through his hair, and I could see the weight of it all on him. He wasn’t the kind to complain, but I knew how badly he wanted that full-time seat. I could tell by how hard he fought to stay on the grid this season.
“Don’t let them make you feel like you have to settle,” I said softly, my words maybe a little more sincere than I meant them to be. He was one of the most talented drivers I knew, and he deserved to have a seat that would recognize that.
He let out a bitter laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, is it? The grid’s stacked, and Alpine knows I’ll have to take what I can get. But I don’t know… maybe it’s not where I want to be.”
There was a pause between us, and I watched him carefully, sensing that this was more than just a conversation about racing for him. It felt like the moment he was letting himself be real, vulnerable in a way he rarely showed.
“Franco,” I started, but the words faltered in my mouth. I didn’t know how to make him feel better, not when I knew what was next for me. He had been my rock in so many ways this season, and now it was my turn to be there for him. But it felt like something more was hanging in the air, something unsaid.
He met my eyes, and for a moment, there was this quiet, unspoken connection. “I don’t want to leave, you know?” he whispered, almost as if he were saying it to himself more than to me. “But I don’t know if I have another option.”
I didn’t know what to say, so instead, I just leaned over and put a hand on his arm, my fingers gently brushing his sleeve. It wasn’t anything dramatic, just a small gesture, but it felt like the right thing to do. We stayed like that for a while, just sitting in silence, letting the quiet of the room fill in the gaps of our thoughts. When finally a thought came to me, “You know, I was in the same predicament before becoming Aston Martin’s Reserve driver?” 
He shook his head, not making eye contact yet. “Before Aston Martin I was driving only as a test driver for Redbull, no chance at racing only at being available when their own drivers reserve or not couldn’t be there. Then Aston Martin came to me with a contract, be their reserve driver. A team with a literal multi world champion driver and a driver who was the owner of the team’s son. So basically, my only chance at driving was someone getting sick or hurt. Or I could stay with my red bull contract and earn loyalty points but probably still never see the steering wheel during a real race.” I looked at him, seeing his expression change. “It was a tough decision but I listed out the pros and cons of each. In the end, Aston Martin gave me the most potential to grow into the F1 world.”
Then, he looked at me, and there was this flicker in his eyes, something I hadn’t seen before. Something that felt real, honest. And I knew in that moment that we were both feeling it—that subtle pull between us. But neither of us said anything about it. Instead, we just let it linger, both of us too scared to do anything about it. “So what I think you need to do is think about what would help you grow or just what you want to do for your future? Is your future still F1 with Williams? Or do you want to explore other options to see what happens?”
His expression changed to one almost deep in thought. I pulled my hand back, giving him a small smile. “You’ll figure it out. You always do,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, even though my heart was beating a little faster than usual.
He smiled back, a little half-hearted, but genuine. “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”
“Same here,” I replied, my voice softer than I meant it to be. And for a moment, it felt like we were more than just teammates, more than just friends. But neither of us made a move. We just stayed there, pretending it was enough to be in each other’s company, not acknowledging the unspoken feelings simmering beneath the surface.
The moment passed, and we both knew it. But neither of us could shake the feeling that things had changed, even if just a little.
Post-season testing was in full swing, and I found myself behind the wheel of a Red Bull. Well, technically, it was a VCARB test, but they had thrown me and Yuki into the main team’s car—basically the 2024 title-winning machine before it would be slightly modified for our ‘junior’ team.
The car felt incredible. The downforce, the grip, the way it responded to even the slightest inputs—I had driven a strong car before, but this? This was on another level. It was a taste of what could be possible with the right setup, and I couldn’t help but grin every time I pushed it through a turn.
“Oi, don’t get too comfortable in that seat,” Yuki’s voice came through the radio as we wrapped up a practice run. “You still have to share it next year.”
I laughed, pulling into the pits and hopping out, only to be immediately greeted by VCARB’s social media team. I had already been warned that their content crew was… a little too good at capturing moments. The internet had already fallen in love with the way Yuki and I had been interacting over the past few weeks, posting clips of our playful bickering, him teaching me random Japanese phrases, or me teasing him about his food choices.
Case in point—before I even had my helmet off, Yuki was standing beside me, pointing at my water bottle with an accusing glare. “You forgot to drink again, we never saw the water button activate”
I groaned. “I was driving.”
He snatched the bottle out of the table and unscrewed the lid. “Drink. Now.”
“Bossy,” I muttered, taking a sip just to get him off my back.
Of course, VCARB’s media team caught the whole thing, and I had no doubt it would be on their Instagram story in minutes.
Later that evening, while cooling down after the day’s sessions, I found myself sketching out ideas for my new helmet. My current design had meant so much to me, but with a new chapter starting, I felt like I needed something fresh. Something that still honored my journey but signified a step forward.
I sat in the VCARB lounge, my sketchbook open in front of me, absentmindedly doodling designs. Maybe something sleeker, sharper—still keeping the essence of my previous helmets, but with a modern touch. I knew I wanted to incorporate the sea turtle shadow again, but this time, maybe in a way that intertwined with something symbolic for myself.
Yuki plopped down beside me, peering over my shoulder. “You’re making it blue, right?”
I rolled my eyes. “Just because I drive for VCARB now doesn’t mean my entire identity is changing.”
He grinned. “Fine, fine. But if you don’t put at least a little VCARB energy into it, I’ll be offended.”
I smirked. “I’ll think about it.”
Truthfully, this whole transition was already feeling better than I had expected. The team was welcoming, the car felt strong, and Yuki had quickly become an easy person to be around. For the first time in a while, I felt like I had something solid to look forward to with my future in this sport.
Now, I just had to survive another season of teasing from Yuki and VCARB’s relentless social media team.
Netflix: Drive to Survive – Post-Season Interview
The cameras were rolling, the dim lighting of the Drive to Survive interview room setting the scene. I sat in the chair, legs crossed, hands fidgeting slightly in my lap as the producers got everything settled. It felt weird, really. Looking back on the season as if it was just a chapter in a book rather than something I had physically, emotionally, and mentally endured.
The interviewer gave me a reassuring smile before jumping straight into it.
“This was your rookie season—or, well, partial rookie season. And it wasn’t exactly an easy one. How do you even begin to reflect on everything that happened?”
I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. “Honestly? I don’t even know where to start. It was the highest of highs, the lowest of lows. I don’t think I ever imagined just how much this season would take out of me—physically, mentally. I came into it with so much to prove, knowing that I wasn’t even guaranteed a seat for next year. Then the Vegas crash happened, and suddenly everything shifted. I had to rebuild myself from the ground up—again.”
“You mentioned the Vegas crash—arguably one of the scariest moments of the season. How much did that affect you going forward?”
I swallowed, running my tongue along the inside of my cheek. “It’s weird because at the time, I was just focused on getting back in the car. I didn’t want to sit out, I didn’t want to give people a reason to doubt me. But looking back? I should’ve given myself more time. I was hiding injuries, pushing through pain I didn’t even fully understand. It wasn’t until after Abu Dhabi, when I finally went to a doctor, that I realized I had been racing with cracked ribs and a fractured forearm. That… that hit me hard. Not just because I knew I had been reckless with my own health, but because it made me realize just how much I feared losing my place here.”
“And now, even after proving yourself with a few Grand Prix wins, multiple podiums, and signing with Cadillac, you’re still facing uncertainty. How does that feel?”
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “Yeah… it’s tough. I signed with Cadillac for 2026, which is exciting, but next year? I’m on loan with VCARB. It’s a temporary situation. There’s no telling how things will go, how I’ll fit into the team, how the car will perform. And then after that, I’m moving to a completely new team, a completely new project, which—don’t get me wrong—is an incredible opportunity, but also terrifying. I won’t have the stability that some of these other drivers have. I don’t get to settle in and build a team around me. I have to constantly prove myself, adapt, and just hope that everything works out.”
“Do you think about that often? The uncertainty of it all?”
I huffed out a laugh. “Every damn day. But that’s the sport, isn’t it? You never really know where you stand until half through the season. I just have to trust that I’m here for a reason.”
“You had a lot of support from fellow drivers this season, some of them clearly becoming very close to you. How much did that mean, especially in a year as chaotic as this one?”
I smiled at that, shaking my head slightly. “I don’t think I would’ve survived this season without them. Lando, Max, Lewis, Carlos, Franco—they all helped me in different ways. Max was like this overprotective older brother, always making sure I wasn’t pushing myself too hard, which—ironic, considering it’s Max Verstappen we’re talking about.” I laughed. “Lewis was there in a more subtle way, just letting me talk through things when I needed to. Carlos and Lando, well… they made sure I never took myself too seriously. And Franco… Franco understood in a way no one else could.”
“Speaking of Franco, He’s not on the grid next year, but you are. What is that like?”
I exhaled softly. “It is hard. Franco deserved a seat just as much as anyone else. He knows that. We have had a moment together where we both acknowledged that, no matter what happens, we’ll always support each other. But it’s bittersweet. I’m moving forward, but I don’t get to have him there with me next season. It’s just another reminder of how brutal this sport is.”
“Despite all of that, you still seem… excited.”
I let a small smirk tug at my lips. “I mean, yeah. It’s terrifying, but it’s also incredible. I get to drive a Formula 1 car for another season. I get to be part of the chaos. And, hey, if nothing else—at least Yuki and I are going to make VCARB’s social media team’s lives very entertaining next year.”
The interviewer chuckled. “That’s for sure. Final question—if you could say one thing to the version of yourself that started this season, what would it be?”
I sat with that for a moment, thinking. Then, with a slow, deep breath, I met the interviewer’s gaze.
“I’d tell her she should allow herself to lean on her friends more, to allow her grid family to help her when situations go downhill. But even when they get terrifyingly bad, she’s gonna get through it, after all, mama didn’t raise no bitch” I smiled mischeviously knowing that was the last question and while I had done well the entire time not swearing, the last word would have to be beeped for tv.
Pre-Season testing
My first partial season had long ended. The whirlwind of emotions, the battles on and off track, the celebrations, the heartbreaks—it had all been wrapped up into one chaotic, unforgettable year. And yet, as I stood there now, staring at the package in front of me, I realized it was only the beginning.
The VCARB garage was quieter than I had ever heard it. No roaring engines, no frantic radio chatter, just the distant hum of mechanics working in the background as the pre-season test wound down. Yuki had already disappeared somewhere—probably off to grab snacks or cause some minor chaos—and the crew had mostly filtered out, leaving just a handful of us behind.
I ran my fingers along the edge of the box, my name printed in bold letters on the lid. This was it. A new chapter. A new beginning. A new identity.
I glanced up at the lead designer, who gave me a small nod, encouraging me to lift the lid.
My heart pounded as I peeled back the protective wrap, the first glimpse of my brand-new helmet catching the dim garage light. I inhaled sharply, my fingers brushing over the surface, tracing the details I had agonized over for weeks. This wasn’t just a helmet. It was a statement. A promise.
A warning.
Something is coming.
I smiled to myself, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline, that unwavering hunger for what came next.
The season was over.
But the story was far from finished.
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callipraxia · 2 days ago
Note
I’ll admit it - thinking of ‘but what will people think of me?’ has stopped me short of writing things before, in everything from writing actual content to writing part of a review on a friend’s story. “What will [Friend] think, seeing that I know that? Even if I explain the actually relatively innocuous reason why I know it, would they even believe me? This is an issue of how something is portrayed in media that I feel pretty strongly about, but in context, it might be better to just…drop it.”
I…tried actually including a detailed example of my next point here, drawing from Anon’s Robert Jordan remark, but it ended up breaking the thousand-word limit before I even got past the introductory explanations, so I guess I’ll write a separate essay about why I don’t really agree with the “dudebro is secretly obsessed with lesbians and BDSM” line of thinking, maybe link it back here later if I remember. In the meantime, the point was - if I start thinking “dang, I think Author X has an Issue with Y,” it’s usually a lot less because of what the author leaves in than what the author leaves out. As an author, one deliberately chooses to explore certain topics, including dark ones that reflect the issues that preoccupy us (isn’t Anne Rice’s work supposed to be kinda messed up? I mean, I’ve never read a word she wrote that I can recall, but aren’t they all, y’know, horror novels?). As distasteful as we might find it, incest and pedophilia and sexual assault and suicide and all those other words you can’t use on YouTube are real things that happen every day. There’s a plethora of reasons why any given author might want to explore such issues in writing, and at least half of ‘em have nothing to do with sex. I’ve never heard anyone imply that Dostoyevsky must have been really, really turned on by the thought of attacking pawnbrokers with axes, much less that he ever committed a murder in real life just for the heck of it. From what I’ve read - though to be fair, my reading on the subject is not extensive - Nabokov probably wasn’t really a pedophile, and Mario Puzo probably had nothing to do with real-life organized crime. I have heard a few people suggest Stephen King must be a perverted serial killer in real life to write what he writes, but those people were idiots. And so forth. Point is, an author examining evil through a certain point of view really should not lead to the assumption that the author has done or wants to do any of those bad things. That’s why we say that authors use their imaginations when they’re working.
Plus, well…nine times out of ten, nobody’s going to make you read a book. If you really can’t read a book without getting uncomfortable because you can’t stop thinking that X or Y means that the author might have wanted his wife to put him on a leash and spank him, you can almost always just…put down the book and go read something else. You can also do this if you’re uncomfortable with Anne Rice apparently having conflicting feelings about God - that isn’t a potential theme that bothers me, but I know people who would be upset for days about reading something that even hinted at someone Having Questions about the divine. Heck, I have a few books I 99% enjoy and I just skim over or entirely skip parts that involve actions I find uncomfortable - my one hard rule is that I won’t willingly even skim anything where bad things happen to pets, but even then, I don’t assume that everybody who ever earned a Newbury Medal is a bad person who likes thinking about such things. I just don’t read their books. Unless you are compelled to do otherwise for a class* or the like, just do thou likewise.
*I was, very reluctantly, compelled to read two books in my undergraduate Adolescent Literature class where bad things happened to dogs; it was the first and last time in my life that I’ve ever tried to get out of reading something, but the professor didn’t believe what I could bring myself to explain about just how negative of a reaction I knew I would have if I read any books with dying dogs in them. Now I still have one of those scenes lodged in my carousel of intrusive thoughts that drive my anxiety level up and make it really difficult not to engage in compulsive behaviors whenever they rudely shove their way up to the front of my brain, but I don’t think badly of Sherman Alexie because of it.
Do you think authors sometimes don't realize how their, uh, interests creep into their writing? I'm talking about stuff like Robert Jordan's obvious femdom kink, or Anne Rice's preoccupation with inc*st and p*dophilia. Did their editors ever gently ask them if they've ever actually read what they've written?
Firstly, a reminder: This is not tiktok and we just say the words incest and pedophilia here.
Secondly, I don't know if I would call them 'interests' so much as fixations or even concerns. There are monstrous things that people think about, and I think writing is a place to engage with those monstrous things. It doesn't bother me that people engage with those things. I exist somewhere within the whump scale, and I would hope no one would think less of me just because sooner or later I like to rough a good character up a bit, you know? It's fun to torture characters, as a treat!
But, anyway, assuming this question isn't, "Do writers know they're gross when I think they are gross" which I'm going to take the kind road and assume it isn't, but is instead, "Do you think authors are aware of the things they constantly come back to?"
Sometimes. It can be jarring to read your own writing and realize that there are things you CLEARLY are preoccupied with. (mm, I like that word more than concerns). There are things you think about over and over, your run your mind over them and they keep working their way back in. I think this is true of most authors, when you read enough of them. Where you almost want to ask, "So...what's up with that?" or sometimes I read enough of someone's work that I have a PRETTY good idea what's up with that.
I've never read Robert Jordan and I don't intend to start (I think it would bore me this is not a moral stance) and I've really never read Rice's erotica. In erotica especially I think you have all the right in the world to get fucking weird about it! But so, when I was young I read the whole Vampire Chronicles series. I don't remember it perfectly, but there's plenty in it to reveal VERY plainly that Anne Rice has issues with God but deeply believes in God, and Anne Rice has a preoccupation with the idea of what should stay dead, and what it means to become. So, when i found out her daughter died at the age of six, before Rice wrote all of this, and she grew up very very Catholic' I said, 'yeah, that fucking checks out'.
Was Rice herself aware of how those things formed her writing? I think at a certain point probably yes. The character of Claudia is in every way too on the nose for her not to have SOME idea unless she was REAL REAL dense about her own inner workings. But, sometimes I know where something I write about comes from, that doesn't mean I'm interested in sharing it with the class. I would never ever fucking say, 'The reasons I seem to write so much of x as y is that z happened to me years ago' ahaha FUCK THAT NOISE. NYET. RIDE ON, COWBOY.
But I've known some people in fandom works who clearly have something going on and don't seem to realize it. Or they're very good at hiding it. Based on the people I'm talking about I would say it's more a lack of self-knowledge, and I don't even mean that unkindly. I have, in many ways, taken myself down to the studs and rebuilt it all, so I unfortunately am very aware of why I do and write the things I do most of the time. It's extremely annoying not to be able to blame something. I imagine it must be very freeing. But it ain't me, babe.
Anyway, a lot of words to say: Maybe! But that might not stop them from writing it, it might be a useful thing for them to engage with, and you can always just not read it.
Also, we don't censor words here.
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cupidhoons · 1 day ago
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it's weird how you aren't speaking out for the fact that you are using a zionist for your fics. shouldn't you be apologizing or at least acknowledging it? the lack of maturity you have 😭 girl just deleted it and didn't even apologize for it.
perfect timing actually anon! i have a whole post drafted on it in my google docs but i can assure you it's not me apologizing for defending myself against writers accusing me of such things. while i do acknowledge my mistake of not being educated enough on lana del rey and her practically begging the president to fund the genocide, i hope you guys do realize that equating me to being a zionist from this situation is just as insensitive and ignorant.
i urge you guys to read my side on this & understand why me and my two other mutuals are upset.
hi guys! as you all know (or assuming that many of you know) that recently i am being accused of supporting zionism/being called a zionist in general by multiple writers on tumblr. before i go on to defending and dropping screenshots of what actually happened & going on to explain my side of the story, let's take a look at the definition of zionism & why it is absolutely NOT okay to throw it around so lightly.
ZIONISM is not only the general term of supporting israel, but also the term that supports the national ethnic cleansing of palestine, which equates to killing all muslims. (defined by @pshbites or more known as kaia & her other muslim friends who grew up knowing that this is what this word meant.) 
READ ANOTHER DEFINITION FROM JEWISH VOICE FOR PEACE (LINK): “While it had many strains historically, the Zionism that took hold and stands today is a settler-colonial movement, establishing an apartheid state where Jews have more rights than others. Our own history teaches us how dangerous this can be.
Palestinian dispossession and occupation are by design. Zionism has meant profound trauma for generations, systematically separating Palestinians from their homes, land, and each other. Zionism, in practice, has resulted in massacres of Palestinian people, ancient villages and olive groves destroyed, families who live just a mile away from each other separated by checkpoints and walls, and children holding onto the keys of the homes from which their grandparents were forcibly exiled.”
i also urge you to check for more information on kaia’s blog & her personal take on this.
so, now that we know what it means & why it's such a loaded word, let's take a look at what the situation at hand looked/looks like:
the other day i posted a sunghoon fic titled “ultraviolence” inspired by lana del rey’s song (it's now changed to “pictures of us, which was my original title for the fic but thought it didn't quite fit the vibe). now, why is this a problem? because i'm apparently “promoting” an artist that begged the president to fund the genocide in gaza, when NOWHERE in my work stated that you should stream lana’s song, become a fan of her’s, and also support/fund a genocide. 
while i do admit that i handled the “anons” (and i put in quotes bc i know for a fact they were ppl who i knew sent them in) terribly and also explained my own personal thoughts and feelings on this topic badly, my words should not be twisted and blown out of proportion to the point where people can freely accuse me of being part of such a horrible and disgusting group of people.
however, that's only the general situation. the real problem for me was when yesterday morning at exactly 7:22am (this timestamp is important for what i'm about to say later on), okwonyos or better known as jiah, texted me, letting me know that she saw the way i responded to the anon & accused me of “actively supporting” someone who “begged the president to fund the killing of millions of children, women, and men of palestine.” (see screenshots below)
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now, you guys may think that she's only doing what's right & willingly called out a mutual for not having her morals straight, but to be blankly accusing someone of being a zionist when i've been it clear that i stand with palestine & basically saying i'm stupid does not sit right with me. 
her saying that she “isn't going to try and make me gain common sense” was so off topic & so unnecessary to bring up & could've left it at me having my own take on separating the art from the artist, which to many people on blr, “does not exist.” but if separating the art from the artist does not exist, then shouldn't we boycott enhypen too? shouldn't we also stop writing and supporting enhypen too? because last time i checked enhypen, and along with many other groups/artists, are underneath zionist companies. so with that logic, should we just stop consuming content from enhypen and our favorite groups/artists all in all? because if we are going by this logic, then we’re ALL zionists and we are all PROMOTING zionism. 
another thing is when she says “it's weird that you barely talked about what was happening in palestine until it was to defend a zionist.” ??? defending a zionist WHERE exactly? i told the “anons” i received a day before this conversation that i am not a hardcore lana del rey fan, and again, nowhere did i say that i was defending lana & her actions of again, wanting the preseident to fund a genocide. keep in mind also, that she DOES NOT know me personally & that i was NEVER close to her nor did i EVER consider her a FRIEND, so she (along with other writers) has no right to accuse me of “not speaking up about palestine” enough. 
so the fact that im being known as a supporter killing innocent lives of people in the enhablr community when the fact is that i've spoken up about it numerous times in my personal life & have encouraged many people in my life to donate and spread the daily click all because i don't “reblog enough” about it sits weird to me. not only that, but it also gives me the vibe that many writers on tumblr—weather it's true or not—thinks of this genocide as a trend and does it as “preformative activism” for the sake of not wanting to lose followers. (kaia’s post touches more on this too)
now obviously, i did reply to her message and did go back and forth with her for some time while i was present in school. me, being offended & GREATLY angered by her choice of words & going as far as associating me with such people, rightfully called her out on it & brought up the fact that her saying that isn't “cute” or right at all. but clearly, this was all read wrong & i wasnt able to explain or expand on it properly because i was simultaneously also in my homeroom speaking with my friends! 
and i know, someone is going to bring up the fact that i shouldn't have responded immediately or that i could've responded later in my day, but keep in mind that if i didnt, i probably would've been blocked anyway without getting the chance to explain myself properly. i cant help but feel that they messaged me purposefully during that time because they know i would be defenseless either way. 
im going to tell it straight now and say that i know i am in the wrong for not being able to explain myself properly & not touching on these points more in the moment, but i had absolutely NO time throughout the day to explain myself as i was blocked almost immediately by everyone, which says a lot, especially when one of the mutuals who blocked me right after that conversation was close to me & who i even considered my friend. 
besides that however, i will say this once more & once again that i am NOT what numerous people on tumblr think i am & none of you guys know me at all personally either. you guys can believe what you want about this situation, but i urge you all to get to know both sides at the very least before following what bigger writers say. im not doing this to maintain my following or even gain more followers, i just don't appreciate people calling & associating me with a group of people that i am so against. i don't at all appreciate people assuming they know me and my character all so well when absolutely none of them have ever bothered to reach out to me and even get to know me. 
but yes anon, go ahead and tell me how immature i am & say it with your full chest how i am a zionist for simply using a popular song that everyone has heard one way or another as my title on my fic!
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