#it’s past midnight here so technically my day is done

[ghoulbats]

517 and i am drowning

there is no sign of land

you are coming down with me

paw in unlovable paw

i’m gonna add a paw to my icon for every boop i get for the rest of the day

[airenyah]

i don't want tomorrow to come bc that means only one more day until the first special ep drops

[pandorasprongs]

JAMIE TARTT | call it what you want.

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.7k

SUMMARY: reader's family comes to visit london and she ends up having to hide her relationship with jamie till the final game of the season.

WARNINGS: language, innuendos

A/N: this is technically a sequel to my comfort crowd story that was my first one about jamie, but it can be read as a standalone too! would recommend reading it first since it gives a little backstory to the garden and reader's past relationship. also, you'll probably be able to tell that i rewatched match scene in the finale for a certain scene AHAHAHA i really wanted to show jamie's more affectionate side, so there's def a few cheesy scenes in here! the title is taken from 'call it what you want' by taylor swift

It's midnight when you hear a knock on your door. Any reasonable person would've ignored it and/or hid in case it was some axe murderer. Of course, you knew it wasn't a murderer, just your boyfriend.

"I thought I said you couldn't stay over tonight?" You say when you open the door to reveal Jamie, whose expression quickly turns into a pouty face.

"I know, but I missed you," You playfully roll your eyes, yet are unable to stop your smile. Christ, he could be annoying, but he could also be pretty sweet. Those two balanced each other out.

"Fine, come in, but you can’t sleep here," You take his hand and bring him inside your flat. He plants a kiss on your temple and the two of you settle down on the couch, which for you was a deserved reward.

The reason why you were up so late despite having to work in the morning was that you had been trying to make your place spotless before your brother and his family came to visit the next day. They had already been in England for a few days but were only coming to London now to visit you and to attend the final Richmond match of the season.

"How's the cleaning going?" Jamie asks, as he wraps one arm around you and reaches for the remote in the other one.

"Took five hours, but at least it’s done." You sigh as you settle closer to Jamie. Even if you had warned him not to come over tonight, you still appreciated his presence.

When you started dating, you never expected the football player to be so clingy, but not even a day after your first date, he was already hanging around you every chance he got.

You couldn’t even hide it from the team because the moment Sam caught the two of you arriving at the clubhouse together, that was it for you guys. They were happy for the two of you, though sometimes too happy, especially whenever you had to call Jamie for a physical and they automatically assumed it was code for something.

"How was practice?"

"Good. The team's having a hard time mastering the start though. The timing's always off," He explains about the surprise goodbye performance they were doing for Ted and Beard. 

They had been planning it from the moment they heard the news the two of them were leaving for Kansas at the end of the season. Well, right after they all finished processing — through crying, screaming, protesting, and the like — the news.

"You guys will do fine," you take the remote from his hand and start looking for a certain movie. "Plus, even if you fuck it up, I’m sure they’ll love it regardless." That gets Jamie to chuckle and you feel the vibrations from his chest.

"How about this? Let's watch the Sound of Music, so you can try and copy one of the von Trapp siblings!" You suggest as you press play on the movie. Jamie doesn't protest and simply wraps his other arm around you too.

You look up at your boyfriend and suddenly feel a pang of guilt. "I'm really sorry,"

You don't need to explain further because Jamie instantly understands. He kisses you on your forehead, "Stop saying that. I know you don't want your family to know you're dating such a talented football player because you're afraid one of them will try and steal me from you."

You remove yourself from Jamie before playfully pushing his head. "Yeah, that's exactly right." The both of you laugh as Jamie pulls you in again.

You had already explained why you were hiding it from them back when you found out they were visiting. You had already been dating Jamie for a couple of months, but not a single person back home knew. 

Most of your family knew about the disastrous way your last relationship ended and you were sure they'd be extra protective about the next guy. As much as you loved being with Jamie and knew he wasn’t that guy anymore, you knew that your football-obsessed family was aware of who he used to be.  Stories of the multiple scandals, hook-ups, and rumors of unsportsmanlike conduct throughout the years were the exact reason you were so afraid to tell them. Those were in the past and you knew that, but you weren’t so sure how to convince your family of that, too. 

Jamie, true to form as the prick he is, completely understood and never tried to pressure you to tell them. He was even the one to tell the whole team that your brother was coming to visit and they had to, in his words, shut the fuck up about your relationship.

This was probably the last night for a few days you two could comfortably spend together, so you didn't really want to force him away. The two of you just sat there watching a Julie Andrews classic where you'd occasionally hear Jamie sing along to the musical numbers.

It was around 2 am when the movie finished and now, he definitely had to go home. Even then, you had a hard time separating yourself from Jamie, but your rational brain was telling you it would be bad for a secret relationship if your family caught him in the apartment.

"See you tomorrow, yeah?" Jamie says as he opens the front door.

Instead of responding, you plant a kiss on his lips, catching him by surprise. He's quick to wrap his arms around your waist as he reciprocates it. You separate and finally, answer him. "Yup, see you tomorrow." Jamie gives you one last hug and a kiss on the cheek before he leaves your apartment. 

You look around your place for a second, seeing if there's anything you need to fix up before tomorrow. Once you assess that it's as clean as it can be, you go to your room and catch some much-needed sleep.

——

When you hear a knock at your door, you drag yourself out of your bed and to the living room. Before you can even twist the doorknob, you hear a voice on the other side, "You should be awake by now!"

"I am!" you respond, as you open the door. You're greeted by the sight of your older brother Frank, your sister-in-law Denise, and their son Gregory.

"Hello, family," you say drowsily, as the three of them envelope you with a hug. Once they let go, you lead them inside your apartment. "How's your vacation so far?"

"Oh, amazing. I get why you moved to Europe," Denise answers, as she looks around your flat. "They have you set up pretty nice here, huh?" She plops down on your couch and pulls Gregory down next to her.

"Yup," you head to the kitchen to make the three of them some drinks. "So, what do you two plan to do while Gregory comes to work with me?" They had already told you ages ago that Gregory wanted to visit the clubhouse badly, but you knew it was also free babysitting.

"Sightseeing mostly," your brother replies, grabbing his cup of tea from you. When you take a seat next to Denise and your nephew, the former leans into you and whispers, "And get into places where 18 and unders can't." 

You chuckle and she plants a kiss on her son's head. As they enjoy their drinks, the three of you start catching up. You steer clear of any questions about relationships and instead focus on you being a physical therapist for a football team.

"Do their feet smell?" Gregory asks and you nod your head.

"Extremely, so always remember to wash your feet, okay?" You reply and the 8-year-old gives you a thumbs up and drinks his hot chocolate.

The topic then shifts to the upcoming final game between Richmond and West Ham. You managed to get the 3 of them tickets, — thank you, Higgins, — which they said was the perfect way to end their trip.

"I'll get you some shirts today, too. Gregory's gonna help me pick them out, yeah?" You turn to your nephew who is more than excited to do so.

"Nice," your brother reacts. "I'd appreciate an Obisanya one."

"Yup, and I want a Colin Hughes one if they're available. And of course, this one here," Denise pulls Gregory into a hug, "wants the captain's jersey."

"Will do," you make a mental note, before excusing yourself to get ready for work. 

You’re freshening up in your bathroom when you hear your nephew call out to you. "Mom's asking if you have an extra blanket!" 

"Check my room!" You hear him go to the room across and as he passes you again, he shouts a quick 'Thank you!'

Once you’re done getting changed, you head back to the living room. All three of them were ready to head out, so you lock up and hail a taxi to the AFC Richmond clubhouse. On the drive there, the seatbelt was practically the only thing stopping Gregory from bouncing up and down in the car. 

When you get there, you find some members of the team along with the Director of Football Operations standing front and center near the entrance of the building. You thank the driver and grab Gregory by the hand. You say goodbye to his parents, and since they’re so excited to have some alone time, they don't even bother looking up at the scene in front of them.

"What's all this?" You say as you approach the entrance. Gregory, despite his excitement, was now walking more cautiously, lagging behind you. When they hear your voice, the team finally settles down.

"Well, a little birdie told me that you'd be bringing someone special to work today and so we decided to assemble the Richmond Welcome Committee for him." You stare at all of them in disbelief and your smile grows wider. You find Jamie in the group, whose smug expression tells you exactly who it was.

"Hello there, Gregory," Higgins turns to your nephew and sticks his hand out, who is still hiding behind you. You move to the side and crouch down next to him, so he feels more at ease.

"Hi," your nephew finally speaks up and shakes his hand. 

Higgins then bends down to the eye level of your nephew. "Welcome to AFC Richmond! We prepared a little gift for you if that's okay."

Gregory nods his head. Higgins and the rest of the team start doing a drumroll and move out of the way to reveal Isaac, with a personalized jersey. You exhale in disbelief and turn to your nephew. 

"What do you say, Greg?" Said nephew was too awestruck by his favorite player to even move. 

After a few seconds, he finally ran up to Isaac and hugged his favorite player. The team captain was now the one in shock, but slowly reciprocated it. Gregory then lets go and accepts the jersey from him. The rest of the team moves to crowd the boy and start talking with him. Almost immediately, your nephew transforms from his former terrified state to the life of the party.

You moved to the side to give them space and thank Higgins, who just shook his head. "It's no problem," he started. "Henry doesn't come here that often anymore, so it was nice to do this for another kid." You smile, before noticing Jamie going toward you.

"And here's the little birdie now," Higgins jokes before excusing himself. You see the team busy entertaining Gregory, so you take the chance to plant a kiss on Jamie's cheek.

"If only the tabloids knew how sweet the striker of AFC Richmond could be." You whisper afterward.

"I know, I'm a great not-boyfriend." He continues to show his smug smirk and before you can reply, you notice that your nephew is starting to look for you.

You put enough distance between you and Jamie to seem platonic, "Greg?" You catch his attention and see him already wearing his jersey over his shirt.

"Can we go inside now?" He asks and you nod your head.

You turn back to the "welcome committee," and thank them. "This was so great." They wave goodbye to the both of you — with Isaac giving Gregory a high-five — as they head to the field for training.

Once you're alone again, Gregory turns to you. "That was so much fun!" You laugh at the boy's reaction as you settle down in your office.

For about 2 hours, you had to deal with the boy asking you about every detail of the papers in front of you. Vitals, size charts, diagrams, he was curious about all of it. A part of you hoped that he'd want to talk about something, anything else, but you soon regret wishing that.

"Auntie (Y/N), is Jamie Tartt your favorite player?" You try and hide your shock at the question. He's 8 years old and it's probably an innocent question.

"Yes, he is." You answer honestly and turn your chair to the treatment table where Gregory was lying down. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I saw you talking to him earlier." He observes, sitting up and looking like he's about to launch into a whole monologue. "And I saw a lot of his jerseys in your room too, so I thought you must be a fan. But you work here, so are you guys close?"

Maybe you should have closed the closet door before sending him in there. You try and keep your calm. "Kind of. I mean I'm close to all of the players, in a way."

If Gregory thinks anything is off, he doesn't show it. Instead, he nods his head and goes back to his comic book as you continue to work on some reports for the players.

Once you finish, you bring Gregory to watch the morning training. His parents were going to pick him up during lunch, so you only had to keep up the charade for just a little longer. The team was doing a few drills when you got there and Ted spots the two of you approaching. He immediately runs over and greets, "Is this the little guy? Hi, I'm Ted."

What was it with dads and shaking little kid's hands? Gregory, already getting used to meeting such famous football personnel, took his hand and shook it as firmly as an 8-year-old could. Jamie was too busy with his drills to notice you there and you’ve never been more relieved about that.

After spending the next hour watching the game from the stands, it was time for lunch and you headed to the car park to find Frank and Denise. You smile at them and hand off Gregory who started telling his parents about his brand-new personalized kit.

You feel your phone vibrate and take it out to find a message from Jamie. secret boyfriend bought secret lunch for a secret date in your office ;)

You chuckle at the message and send him a quick reply before hearing Gregory mention your name. "Auntie's friends with all the players, especially Jamie Tartt. He's her favorite and they're close."

Oh, this child is going to ruin you. You try and stop yourself from overreacting, though you instead end up letting out an exaggerated laugh. "Yeah, I mentioned him being my favorite player, but he seemed to forget that I said I'm also close with all the players, not just Jamie."

Frank seemed to buy it, but you can tell that Denise was starting to pick up on things. She could always tell when you were lying, even before you left for London. After you had broken up with Matt, it took one call before she realized what happened. So it was only a matter of time till she figured it out, but you had hoped you could delay it till after their trip. You wave to the three of them as their taxi left the car park.

You headed back to your office to find Jamie already devouring his pasta. "Hey, I thought this was supposed to be a date?" His head snaps towards you with noodles still hanging out of his mouth.

"I didn't know how long you'd take and I need my carbs." You roll your eyes as you go to the seat across from him. Jamie puts his plate down and brings out yours.

The two of you start talking about the upcoming game this Sunday, to which you bring up your usual 'night before' ritual.

"I thought your family was gonna stay at your flat that night?" Jamie asks, but you just shrug.

"I'll find a way to escape. No way you're going to the garden without me. I'm your good luck charm, Mr. Tartt." You lean towards the football player and playfully narrow your eyes at him. He breaks into a smile and takes your hand into his.

"Yeah, you are." He says softly, and your smile starts to fade. Jamie would never say it out loud, certainly not in the clubhouse where his teammates could hear him, but his nerves always reached an all-time high before a big game. Even after the Man City match and the talk with his mum, you noticed he still felt uneasy in the days leading up to this one.

He was good at hiding it from most people, but over the months, you figured out the small tells that showed he wasn't feeling his best. That's one of the reasons Dr. Sharon suggested he find a safe space, one where he could collect himself before a game, especially like the game on Sunday.

"Hey," You get him to look back at you and squeeze his hand tighter. "You and the whole team are going to dominate. You've already guaranteed a spot in the Champions League, so you’re set for next season. Plus, your beautiful and frankly, awesome girlfriend is gonna be there in the dugout cheering you on."

Jamie pulls you in for a quick kiss as a thank you before you start to fix up the table. He then suggests a rather inappropriate after-lunch activity — "Ay! Call it a motivational activity," — and you have to physically push him out the door for his afternoon practice.

——

It's the night before the match and you were currently arguing with your brother about the sleeping situation.

"Frank, I'll be fine. There's three of you, it's a king-sized bed, and you know I love couches." This time, he gives in. You watch him disappear into your room and after five minutes, you start heading out.

You go down to find a parked car outside, with its owner leaning on the side of it scrolling through his phone. Since you had dinner with family and he got a drink with Roy, the two of you had planned to meet up later than usual.

"Told you I still knew how to sneak out." You say to him, and the moment his eyes land on you, his expression seems to relax. You approach him and ask, "How was hanging out with Roy?"

"Weird, but good," he answered as the two of you got into the car. "Told me he was proud of me."

"That's nice of him. After all those training sessions and him barging on both our doors early morning, you deserve it." You’re reminded of when Roy came to your flat at 4 am after he realized that Jamie wasn't at his own house, which ended with you scolding the coach about it.

You didn't want to make a big deal of it, but you knew how much Jamie appreciated hearing that from someone he looked up to since childhood. Especially with their history back when Jamie first joined the team.

He continued to tell you about what went down, even mentioning how he convinced Roy to go to Keeley that night and finally ask her out again. Though, he admitted he partly did that was so they could finish earlier and he could see you.

You get to the garden and despite visiting it almost every week, you’re still amazed at its beauty. You remember the first time he brought you there before you were even dating. You had been so touched that Jamie was willing to share this place with you that you ended up kissing him right then and there. 

Ever since then, you ended up going with him before games, even if the two of you would just sit there in silence and simply take in the surroundings. That's exactly what was happening tonight, with you and Jamie sitting on a bench and just observing the garden.

After a while, you took the chance to look at Jamie without him noticing. He was always the most calm here and you could tell it from his side profile alone. His jaw was relaxed, his eyes were closed and he was breathing steadily.

You suddenly get the urge to admit something. "I'll tell Frank and Denise tomorrow." Jamie looks at you as you repeat, "I'm telling them about us tomorrow, after the game."

The football player breaks into a smile, and you can't help but mirror it. If the two of them could only get a glimpse of the Jamie you knew, who was thoughtful, enthusiastic, and truly kind-hearted, they wouldn't even care about all the dumb stories of the past. 

After a little while longer, Jamie drives you home and you give him a quick goodbye kiss before heading back to your flat. You try to be as quiet as possible, turning the knob ever so slowly. You soon realized you didn't have to, as you hear someone clear their throat. You open the door to find Denise sitting on the couch in her pajamas and you freeze. "You went out?"

"Yes," you finally managed to croak out, as you closed the door behind you and leaned on it. "Wanted some fresh air."

"Fresh air? From the car I just saw you get out of?" Denise crosses her arms and you accept defeat. You say nothing as your sister-in-law asks, "Who's the guy?"

"Jamie Tartt," you admit, and her eyes almost pop out of her head.

"Oh shit, you are dating him. I really thought Gregory was just exaggerating things." You roll your eyes and join her on the couch.

You quickly plead, "Please don't tell Frank yet. I promise I’ll tell him after the match. You know, just in case he gets an urge to do bodily harm to my boyfriend."

"Come on, you know he wouldn't actually do that." You tilt your head. She adds, "He probably wouldn't. But fine, I'll keep it from him." You sigh in relief until she starts giving you a look. "So, Jamie Tartt, huh?"

You groan. "Oh God, can we not do this right now? What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing! I just didn't think you'd go for a guy like him. You know, more laidback with a slight douchy vibe."

"He is not a douche!" You're quick to defend Jamie, but now Denise narrows her eyes at you. "Not anymore. He was the one who planned that jersey thing for Greg. Would a douche do something like that?"

"Okay, okay, I believe you. He doesn’t seem like the prick from before." Denise holds her hands up in surrender. "But, I only know that because of how you're acting now." She nudges you on the shoulder and you tilt your head. 

"Look, you just seem happier, lighter. Much better than when you were with Matt. I was never going to admit it, but you should’ve ended things after college. Nothing was too toxic about your relationship, but you always looked like you were holding something back."

It was true. It took a few months of not being with him anymore to realize just how many red flags he had. Yes, he was smart, polite, and always knew exactly what to say, but he was also the first to criticize you when you didn't live up to his “standard.” You had convinced yourself that he was only trying to make you better, but in reality, he was just an ass. 

Being with Jamie is what convinced you of that. He got you out of your comfort zone to enjoy things, without ever making it feel like he was pressuring you. You did the same for him too, and instead of pushing back like Matt always did, Jamie would actually listen to what you had to say and cared what you thought.

You explain all of that to Denise and at the end of it, you're sure she's starting to see why you fell for Jamie in the first place. "I'm glad you're happy." 

You hug your sister-in-law tightly before you both start getting tired. Everyone had to get up early tomorrow, so it was best to get some rest before then.

You're already lying down and tucked into the couch, but you grab your phone and send a quick message to Jamie.

i hope you're sleeping because this is for when you wake up tomorrow. good luck and i know you'll be the best fucking player on the field!

You hit the send button before returning your phone to the table and drifting off to sleep.

——

You had planned on getting to the clubhouse earlier than usual. You had to prepare for the match and your family didn’t want to push through a bunch of people to get to their seats. 

But even then, there was already a crowd around the building. Maybe it was because this was your first time working here with the team making it to the finals, but you've never seen that many AFC Richmond fans present.

You had separated from the three of them once they got their tickets and insisted they could find their seats on their own. Because of all the chaos of getting ready and setting up with the whole crowd, you hadn't gotten a chance to check if Jamie had replied or even look for him.

It was only when Will showed up at the dugout saying that Jamie was looking for you did you see him for the first time today.

"I've been waiting for my good luck kiss," is how he greets you and you can only laugh as you embrace him. He met you outside of the locker room, so you avoided all the whistles and 'oohs' from his teammates. 

You give him a quick kiss before telling him about last night. You could see his relief when he realized that your sister-in-law did approve of him, which you almost felt guilty about. 

Jamie Tartt, world-renowned football player, was nervous about what a relative of yours thought about him. 

"I'll tell Frank later. And, if you guys win the game, maybe he won't come after you and injure your other ankle." You remind him and he chuckles, but your straight face is enough for him to take it seriously.

"Shit. I guess we do have to win." 

After hearing Ted asking everyone to huddle up, you separate from Jamie and the two of you join the crowd inside the locker room. You with the rest of the physical therapists and Jamie with the players.

You had to admit, you were a bit nervous for the game. You knew the team was doing great, but after their crying session right before the match, you were worried they'd be too teary-eyed to make it through. And in the first half, you were right to be. Despite their efforts, West Ham was ahead much to every Richmond supporter’s dismay. 

But after whatever happened in the locker room, they seemed to be picking it up. After those 3 misses, you and the rest of the people in the dugout were ecstatic when Jamie finally scored. 

But then it led to a whole different issue. Now, West Ham was focused on marking Jamie. From both a personal and professional standpoint, you were worried. Jamie's ankle could still easily be injured after what happened at Man City and Richmond would lose what was called "their central cog." 

You were grasping your medical bag as the game continued, ready at any moment to rush over there. You flinched when Jamie fell to the ground, but when the referee called for a penalty, you knew this was one of his tricks and you sighed in relief. 

He looks at you with one of his signature smirks as he's pulled up by Sam. You playfully shake your head and roll your eyes, as the teams get ready for the kick.

And thank God Isaac was able to get it in the net. Well, through it? You could feel Gregory's excitement over it, even if you weren't sure where they were in the crowd.

After eavesdropping on Rupert Mannion ordering his manager to "take out" Jamie, you felt a lump forming in your throat. But at least George still had some integrity, even if you ended up seeing his balls after he gets pushed. As Rupert got heckled off the pitch, Jamie catches your eyes.

He notices your worried expression and gives you a reassuring look. It was his way of saying "Don't worry, you think they can take me out?" You not as the players head back onto the field.

Even then, the players were completely boxing Jamie in, but you watched as Ted signaled a strategy for the free kick which they seem to understand quickly. Jamie's trying everything to get Bumbercatch's attention, but the moment he sends it Sam's way, you know exactly what's going on.

"Go, go, go," You whisper, on the edge of your seat. You're squeezing Will's arm a little too tight, but even he is too immersed in the game to care.

Sam gets the ball in and the whole stadium erupts in cheers. You wait, but when the final whistle was blown, you and Will start celebrating too. The whole team starts running onto the pitch and at that point, you weren't thinking. 

The moment your eyes landed on Jamie, you were running across the pitch towards him. He catches you in his arms and pulls you into a kiss. You deepen it as if you weren't surrounded by thousands of people right then and there.

You break apart for a split second to say, "You guys absolutely smashed it. I knew you would win." 

He pulls you back for another kiss, before smiling against your lips. "You aren't worried about your brother seeing us?"

The thought hadn't occurred to you at that moment, but you try and find them in the crowd, still not removing yourself from Jamie's grasp. With all the chaos, you give up and just shrug it off, turning back to the football player. 

"I don't really care anymore." You admit as you laugh.

Jamie pulls you into a hug and spins you around in the air. You laugh and hold onto him tightly. When he puts you down, you find your family coming toward the two of you. Frank is the only one who seemed shocked by this whole ordeal, with Denise simply smirking and Gregory being distracted by all the people celebrating on the field.

"Right, hi Frank," you start and you slide your hand down from his arm to intertwine it with Jamie's hand to steady yourself. "Did I forget to tell you I have a boyfriend now?"

"Yeah, I don't think it's come up, no," He replies.

Jamie takes a step forward and stretches his other arm for a handshake. "Hello, it's nice to meet you. I'm Jamie—"

"Jamie Tartt, yes." Your brother firmly grasps his hand. "I know who you are." Jamie's legs buckle slightly at Frank's strength, but Denise puts a warning hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Not too hard, honey." which prompts Frank to finally let go of Jamie.

It's a few minutes of silence, — well, as quiet as a celebrating football stadium could be — before you finally try and escape the situation. "Maybe we should let Jamie celebrate with his team!"

"Yes, of course! Congratulations, Jamie! You guys did amazing." Denise says, causing Jamie to flash a genuine smile.

"Yes, you and your team did great," Frank adds on, notably less enthusiastic. "Especially with that last shot from Obisanya." Of course, he had to add his favorite player to this.

You try and pull Jamie away to bring him to his celebrating team, but your brother pulls him into a hug, forcing you to let go of Jamie's hand. You watch Frank whisper something in his ear, before letting go. He then says out loud, "Congratulations on making the Champions League. Can't wait to see you guys play next season."

All Jamie can do is nod in gratitude, as he seems to still be processing what happened before that. You decide to thank him on your boyfriend's behalf.

"See you guys later!" You say to your family as you bring Jamie away from them, his expression slightly worrying you. Once you put a safe amount of distance between them, you whisper, "What did he say?"

"Nothing," Jamie pursed his lips. "Just that he'd make my life a living hell and find a way to ruin my career if I broke your heart." He laughs it off, but you can hear a slight shakiness in his voice.

"Alright then," you interlock your arms with Jamie's, but neither confirm nor deny the truth in his statement.

"That was a joke, right?" Jamie tries to ask but you just shrug. His face almost turns white, but you laugh and instead, he playfully narrows his eyes at you. "That's not funny."

"Well, I’m pretty sure you aren't going to break my heart, so you'll never have to find out. You plant a kiss on his cheek and remove yourself from him. “Now go, celebrate your win!" 

You push him to the rest of his teammates, who are in the middle of celebrating, but he's quick to grab your arm and pull you close. "I know how I want to celebrate this win." He moves in for yet another kiss.

You briefly wonder if this is being televised and if it might be how all your friends and family back home find out, but you'd deal with that later. Right now, it's just you and Jamie. 

And you've always wanted that celebratory field kiss.

[thepixelelf]

the only way to get a good sleep

genres: established relationship, fluff!! pairing: reader x seokmin words: 1.3k warnings: none :] notes: this is for elv @seokmins day! ((it's technically a recast of an old fic of mine so I'm just praying you haven't read that one shhhhhh))

Seokmin misses you lots n lots.

Seokmin hasn’t slept in days.

That’s an exaggeration, of course, but any sleep he’s gotten has been fitful, restless, and generally not a good time.

He never really thought you’d be a catalyst like this. You only moved in two weeks ago -- some of your boxes are still sitting unopened in the living room, waiting for you to unpack them. The closet and dresser space Seokmin freed up for you remains half empty, since you were both too lazy to fully move in, more focused and elated on the fact that you’d finally done it. Seokmin had taken weeks, no, months to finally ask the question, and the way you’d answered so easily (with a smile, a laugh, and a hug) made it seem like all his worrying was ridiculous. The move was stressful, and cancelling your rent with your previous landlord was a nightmare, but the fact that you to would be together made Seokmin see everything through rose-tinted glasses. He didn’t care what he had to go through as long as you shared a home at the end of the day.

Of course, you two had slept in the same bed many times before you moved in, but somehow this was different. In the past two weeks, Seokmin swore he woke up already smiling, simply because you were there; beside him; living with him.

But since you left two days ago, he hasn’t slept a wink.

He knows you’re not gone forever, but still, he just can’t force his eyes to close; his breath to even out; his mind to rest. And he doesn’t know when exactly you’ll be back, either, considering your impromptu trip back to your family’s home wasn’t planned at all.

His mind wanders to the last message you sent him.

[my moonlight] miss you too, my sunshine

He lies still on top of the bedsheets, eyes trailing along the bumps and ridges of the ceiling. Sleep won’t come tonight, either -- he can tell.

Maybe he should call you. Last time he tried that (the night before), it got him about an hour of light sleep before he woke up again, but at least it was something. He needs to work tomorrow, and he isn’t sure he can keep his eyes open there after three nights of tossing and turning.

Sitting up, his hand wanders along the bed looking for his phone, which he picks up and detaches from its charger. It’s midnight already. Should he risk waking you up?

Well, he knows you have your phone on silent most of the time, so if you are asleep, he won’t be bothering you. He’s got nothing to lose.

The dial tone rings in his ear twice before he flops back down on the bed, his other hand coming to rest upon his stomach. After another two rings, he almost gives up, but then your voice makes an appearance, and he smiles.

“Trouble sleeping?” is the first thing you say. You really know him too well.

“Yeah... it’s just not the same without you.”

Along with faint footsteps, he hears your quiet laughter through the speaker. “You cheeseball.”

“I mean it,” he says, and he does. “What are you up to?”

“Are you asking me to talk until you fall asleep?”

His smile widens, and he knows he should be trying to keep still in order to fall asleep, but he can’t help it. “Only if you’re willing.”

“Well.” Something dings around you. “As much as I’d love to lull you to sleep, I need you to do something for me.”

“Hm?” Seokmin perks up, his interest piqued.

“I got you something,” you say. “It should be at your door in, hm, twenty seconds?”

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands, still holding his phone up to his ear. His lips purse in confusion.

“How’d you get it up here? Deliveries go to the lobby desk.”

“Oh, I have my ways.” Somehow, Seokmin can hear your smile. “Just open the door.”

Knowing you, Seokmin simply complies, leaving the bedroom to reach the door to the apartment hall. He’s a bit too tired to understand much, but he knows anything from you is worth getting out of bed for. After fumbling with the chain lock, he finally twists the doorknob.

You stand just beyond the doorway, your phone held up at your ear and a bright smile on your face.

“Hey stranger.”

Too tired to comprehend what’s right in front of him, he still speaks into his phone. “You didn’t tell me you were coming back.”

You humour him, talking into your phone as well. “I wanted to surprise you. Did it work?”

He nods. “Uh huh.”

When he sees you laugh and hang up, he glances at his phone to do the same, still awestruck to have you standing there.

“C��mere you big softie, I missed your hugs,” you say, opening up your arms.

Seokmin smiles again and swoops in to wrap his arms around you. He relishes in your warmth, a smile against the skin of your neck -- which he knows you can feel. Slowly, he closes the door behind you and waddles with you through the apartment. It’s awkward with the way he clings to you, but he doesn’t care. He takes you all the way to the bedroom, flopping down on the bed with you squished underneath, and his heart flutters at your laughter.

“What’s this?” you tease.

“You were gone too long,” he says instead of answering, and you laugh again.

Despite your playful words, you soothingly pat the back of Seokmin’s head as you speak. “Well, it’s not every day your kid sister dumps her fiance.”

“She’s not a kid anymore.”

“To you, maybe,” you counter. “To me, she’ll always be my kid sister.”

Seokmin hums into your skin, already feeling the effects of holding you in his arms. He’s insanely tired. Still, he cares enough to ask, “How is she?”

“Heartbroken.” You sigh, a frown on your lips that Seokmin can guess is there rather than see it. “But she’ll get better. She’s strong like that.”

“Mhmm...” Seokmin’s eyes are closed -- have been since falling into bed with you -- and he’s starting to drift off. Before he can fully lose himself though, he lifts up on his elbows so he hovers above you, a drowsy smile on his face. He dips low, meeting his lips with yours in a soft, lazy kiss. You reciprocate at the exact same level, simply pursing your lips and not asking for anything more. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you say, closing your eyes to kiss him again.

Seokmin can’t say which kisses of yours are his favourite; he thinks he may get a new one every time. Whenever your lips are on his will be his favourite, he thinks.

He presses his forehead to yours, mirroring your wide smile with one of his own, eyes drifting shut once again. Collapsing on top of you, he hugs you tight, ready to fall asleep right then and there atop the covers.

“Seokmin,” you whisper, kissing his temple and twisting so you’re on your side. “I need to brush my teeth.”

He groans; hugs you tighter.

You laugh. Your hands move to push him off, though you put no real effort into it. “I gotta change too, sunshine. I’ll be right back.”

Propping himself up again, Seokmin opens his eyes to meet your sparkling ones.

“Hey,” he says. He kisses you again, and your smile persists.

“Hey.”

You reach your hands up to cup his cheeks, grazing your thumbs over his skin as if to test that he’s real. He loves when you do that.

His lips meet yours; soft, warm.

“You wanna get married?”

“Mmm...” you hum in a sleepy daze. Your hands pull him down for yet another kiss, this one lasting longer, though still as sweet and slow as the others. When you retract, you wrap your arms around his neck and whisper in his ear, “Can I brush my teeth first?”

Seokmin sleeps better tonight than he ever has before.

part two: How to Harvest Sunshine

[writingshushf1]

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A man after midnight)

Summary: The one where you are Sebastian Vettel’s engineer through out the years, never realized that maybe, the older man - now newly divorced, had developed feelings for you.

Rating: +16

Warnings: mentions of sex, masturbation, adult (sorta) language, daddy issues.

Word count: 3.5k

Note: since I started this new blog, I’ll post all my ao3 f1 fanfics here! So this is also available in my ao3. btw: this one-shot is inspired on a tik tok by read_between.the_wines (she has really good prompts and I’ll use them a lot!)

masterlist

Sebastian Vettel. Four-time world champion. Has raced for BMW Sauber, Toro Rosso, Red Bull, Ferrari and now, Aston Martin. German. Simple family. Reserved. And now, recently divorced.

That news hit the websites, just the way he didn't want it. They had not been together for a few months, but he had not commented for the safety of Hanna and her children. However, the media always managed to take little pieces of his privacy and spread them to the world.

His closest friends already knew and so did his team, but they all kept quiet about it, they knew him.

A couple of curious eyes were looking for the German at the Aston Martin hospitality. They were friends, the girl might be 7 years younger than him, but they always got along great, especially when she needed to adjust his car. Sebastian was always her safe harbour, since when she joined Ferrari in 2019, only 25 years old and with an impressive knowledge about what he was doing, so when he decided to switch teams, she didn't even hesitate to go for it. The German, on the other hand, he's always had a different take on her - of course, at first it was a platonic feeling, a friendship he never thought he could find, until the day he found himself falling for her. Perhaps, it was the girl who - unknowingly - ended up ending the couple's relationship.

Unfortunately, he knew very well that she felt nothing for him beyond a sweet friendship.

When the woman found him, her expression of curiosity turned bittersweet; she was worried about his condition, sitting on the floor of his driver's room with his hands on his head. She took a few steps and crouched in front of him, touching his arm lightly. At first, the man flinched, but as he smelled the sweet scent of peach perfume, he accepted the caress, letting out a tearful sigh.

"Hey..." She whispered as soon as he lifted his face. He was red, hair messy and beard longer than usual.

"It's public. I'm officially a divorced man."

"They shouldn't have done that. It's cruel. Even more so that you have the girls and the little one." She said quietly. "Did you talk to Hanna after the news came out?"

"Yes... She knows it wasn't our fault." The girl cracked a smile.

"So, if she knows-let's go. Wipe your face and lift your chin. You're too good to succumb to what the media does." She stood, holding out her hand for him to take.

"What would I do without you, liebling?" he laughed, slipping his arm over her shoulder.

"I have no idea. I'm the best friend you could ever have."

…..............................................

She was sitting on top of a large metal box, Vettel beside her, looking at the tools that were on a shelf. It was Saturday after qualifying and they were fixing some technical errors with the car. Their legs wobbled as she listened to him talk about the possible problems, writing them down. As curious eyes lifted to pay attention to their driver, a guy in an Alpine t-shirt walked past them, waving at her and within seconds a silly grin was on his face.

"Someone's got a crush." Sebastian said, in his strong accent.

"Shut up!" She kicked and lightly kicked his leg. "You know I only have eyes for you." She pouted.

"Ahem, I know."

"Come on Seb!"

He only shook his head in denial, cracking a smile. Suddenly, his mobile phone started ringing frantically and he answered it without even seeing who it was, they both knew only one person had that ringtone. His voice was soft yet firm; she didn't understand German, but it sounded like they were disagreeing on something, especially that he pressed his temples with his fingers, taking a deep breath. He hung up, throwing his head back, groaning loudly.

"The little one is sick. My parents can't take the girls and neither can Hanna's parents. I'll need to bring them to the Paddock tomorrow, which I hate because people will be taking pictures."

"Britta can sort it out, can't she? She always does."

"She will. I just think it's going to be a bit weird without Hanna being here with them."

"It'll be fine. I can help you, you know I love the girls and they know I'm the coolest auntie!" She waited for him to come closer to give little slaps of encouragement on his shoulders.

…......................................................

Early Sunday morning, she had arrived and as soon as she entered the Aston Martin hospitality, she felt arms grab her legs. She cracked a smile and looked down, seeing two blonde girls with long smiles, she ran her hand over the hair of both of them, ducking down and being bombarded with love. They ran over each other's words, the sweet girls speaking a German mixed with English that could confuse anyone, however the engineer listened to them intently, with a smile on her face.

Soon, she found the father of these cuties, Vettel was playing ping-pong with Stroll for a video. The three waited away from the cameras for the German, who cracked a warm smile at the sight of them. Even though the girls were not so little anymore, he took one in each arm, walking to his garage. Soon they were distracted by other people on the team, who were loving having two adorable children there.

"They look really cute wearing those Aston clothes." The woman said, nudging him with her elbow.

"They insisted. And I can't always say no."

"So... We'll get a good result today. For them, okay?"

"Okay."

He started in P12 and until halfway through the race, he had not entered the scoring zone, which made the engineer upset. She wanted the kids to see their father happy and in a high position. They did the tyre change a bit too early, which could ruin the strategy, especially as he dropped to P15. However, he was still on a two-lap tyre when several teams started to call for a change, so he moved up positions as he felt confident enough to overtake other drivers. The girls screamed in happiness every time the number 5 car was shown on the various TVs inside the pit lane. He finished in P5 on that cold April afternoon - the girls were self-conscious about how it worked, that their father hadn't won the race, but for them, him finishing fifth where there were 20 other racers was amazing. The three of them ran to the rail, with her holding them so they could see his car very close passing by the finish line.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was conflicted, seeing her with her daughters, having fun and such a natural way, so easy and affectionate. He was trying to push that thought away, but the truth is: he had been thinking about her for a long time.

From the day she first set foot in the Ferrari, the girl hiding behind a cap bigger than her head and red polo shirt twice her size - they didn't have her dress size that week - intrigued him, from the sharp voice, ready to destroy someone in seconds, on another hand, someone so sweet it gave you cavities on just thinking about her. They hit it off at first, the feeling of finding someone who understood your craziness, who stayed late inside the garage studying, tinkering with the car, someone who spoke the language of motoring. Of course, everything was always platonic, he was a married man; she even had a long and painful crush on him, but she moved on, it was too risky to go after a committed man. She just didn't know Sebastian couldn't stop thinking about her, he had loved every bit of her since the day they ran away from the end of the season Ferrari’s party, ending up in some random bar in Maranello, laughing their drunk asses off.

He did not look at his wife the way he looked at her . Several nights, lying in his hotel bed, he would stare at the ceiling and think of calling her, hoping that she would come running and snuggle into his arms, that she would kiss his lips sweetly and spend the night by his side, that he could wake up in the morning with her naked body covered only by a thin blanket. He would touch himself thinking of her. The worst is that she couldn't do that, it wasn't even because of the age difference, she was a grown woman, but he was afraid of compromising the position of both of them - but mainly hers, within the team, it wasn't as if some didn't doubt her real ability normally.

After his interviews and PR duties, he appeared in the garage, seeing from afar the door to his driver's room open and them sleeping on the couch, covered with a duvet. In one corner, the engineer was giving a soft laugh and the older man brought his gaze to her. The girl was leaning against the wall, with a few locks of hair curled in her fingers, her face was flushed and her pupils dilated, in front of her, a tall, dark haired man wearing an Alpine t-shirt. The same man who had waved to her the night before. Internally, he was burning with jealousy, but on the outside, he just took a deep breath and cracked a smile, walking calmly over to them. The German gently touched her shoulder, giving it a squeeze, which made her turn her face away immediately.

"Seb!"

"Hey lieb, are you still going to want a ride back to the hotel? I'll just pick up the girls and be on my way." His tone was low in the hope that the other wouldn't hear.

"Sorry- I'm going out with Matheo. He's dropping me off at the hotel later." She left a kiss on his cheek. "See you tomorrow for breakfast?"

"Sure. See you tomorrow."

He waved to them both as he walked out with the two sleepy little girls. As soon as he turned his face, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, biting his lower lip.

The engineer left with the Alpine strategist shortly after her interaction with Vettel. Matheo quickly took her hand in his, as if to show the others who were leaving that she was his, at first she didn't mind, she was a person who liked to be touched. They were in his car, going to some restaurant she didn't know about - and he didn't make a point of telling her.

"So... You and Vettel?" His voice was soft, yet accusatory.

"We are friends. He's basically a big brother to me, when I got into Ferrari he was always my guide and listened to me, even if I wasn't one hundred percent right." She smiles as she recalls the memories. "I had a side job babysitting the girls when Seb and Hanna wanted to be romantic, at least I didn't spend it alone at the hotel."

"I get it... I thought you might have something, by the way he looks at you ."

"What? No! Seb is very concerned and he has this dad vibe that is so cute. It's not what you're thinking."

He shrugged, parking the car for them to have their supposed romantic evening.

And it was a good one. He bought her a nice dinner, then drove her to her hotel room and kissed her at the door. She brought him into the room and they had sex that night. He wasn't the best she'd ever had, but he definitely made her scream a few times - which wasn't the best idea, since Sebastian's room was next door to hers, at least the girls were going to stay with his parents. On the other side of the wall, the blond couldn't sleep properly, the noises from her room wouldn't let him be at peace. He felt anger, envy, sadness. He was the one who was supposed to leave you like that.

He hadn't slept at all. Then early in the morning he was already drinking coffee when he saw her coming downstairs, her face still a little smeared with makeup.

"Good morning!" She said as she sat down in front of him and received a tired groan in response. "What?"

"It's not easy trying to sleep when the person in the next room is loud." In the same second, she widened her eyes, quickly running her hand over her face, embarrassed that he had heard her groan.

"Sorry! It wasn't intentional. I just... I wanted to please him."

"You mean it wasn't good?" He arched an eyebrow.

"It was! It was good, but not... The best. "

"Wow." He laughed low. "So he really missed something."

"Yeah..." Her face was entirely red. "He was so nice to me all night that I didn't have the courage to tell him that I didn't.... You know, he came pretty close." She mumbled it all out.

"So no second date?"

"First, we've been going out for a few weeks and second, he may not be a knight in shining armour, but he has the potential to be someone good. And I don't want to waste that."

"'I can fix him' syndrome?" he took a sip of his tea. "So... 2000s romance movie. Or daddy issues."

"Vettel!" She couldn't hold back her laughter, putting both hands over her face, hiding it. "Blame my father for abandoning me."

The two of them couldn't control their laughter, drawing attention from a few people around.

….....................................

The engineer was in her loft, lying on the couch with some TV program on. It was half past midnight, a glass of wine in her hand. She hated spending her evenings completely alone, knowing that she couldn't just walk in the next door and her colleagues or Sebastian ready to answer it. The wind whipped against the window, it was so depressing, not a soul there to lift her out of her boredom. Until her doorbell rings. Matheo was there, with flowers. She answered in surprise and he said that refusing her request for him to come to her loft was ridiculous and he could spend even half an hour in busy London for her.

They had had a fight, he had gone out with another girl, and she thought they were exclusive - clearly a miscommunication. And the night at her apartment was post "reconciliation", only he said he wouldn't go, he couldn't stand London. She called Sebastian crying, saying that the strategist didn't care about her and that she wanted so much a hug from the older man, but he was so far away. His heart ached to hear her so destroyed, but he was even angrier when he read the message that appeared almost at one o'clock in the morning, saying that the blessed man had shown up with flowers and that despite everything, he was a good person.

Matheo and she had sex again, not as amazing as the first time - and each time the quality decreased until this time. She blamed the tension of having him again, it was nothing, she could teach him. He left early Sunday morning, saying he needed to get back to see his family.

In the second week of vacation, she received a very important visit. Sebastian Vettel was knocking on her door, with a crate of beer and German sausage.

"You're no good." She said when she saw him, going into his arms in a warm hug.

Again, it was half past midnight, they were drunk. Vettel was making bratkartoffeln, while she was sitting on one of the kitchen benches, drinking beer.

"I know he was an asshole to me, but he tried to fix it. I can give it at least one more chance..."

"But what about the sex?" He looked at her.

"Still bad, but I can change that ." She cracked a damned smile.

"I bet even I could do better than him." He grumbled.

"And how can you be sure?" She asked in a suggestive tone, taking another sip of her beer.

" Because I know you. And I know what you like. " He cracked a smile, focusing on the potatoes in the pan.

"Silly." She slapped his shoulder. "But it's serious. He's good, you know? He doesn't talk about our jobs when we're together, he likes to play video games, and no, he wouldn't steal information from our car even because his team is better than ours."

"You can steal information." He said jokingly, but he was starting to get annoyed with the situation. Was it jealousy? Of course.

"It's serious, Seb. I really think I'll make it official."

"Even though you cried for two hours on the phone with me?"

"I can fix him!" She put her arms up in surrender, repeating the same thing he said to her at the hotel weeks ago.

"Daddy issues."

"You can't say anything if you're single."

"Divorced."

"Same thing."

"Depends on the perspective, lieb."

"How? I don't think so. It's only because you want to get out of the argument."

"Maybe."

"Conflit advoidance."

"Emotional needness."

"Shit." She shrugged, getting down from the countertop and putting the bottle in the trash, soon grabbing another from the fridge. As Sebastian finished the early morning snack for them, she rolled her eyes and spoke again. "But seriously, he looks like a person to introduce himself to his parents! Good job, handsome, nice, takes me to nice places.... The sex is something to improve on, but we know that's only with practice." She laughed.

Suddenly, Vettel closed his eyes and said under his breath. "Can you shut up about him?"

"Um, excuse me?" She turned her face to him, with an annoyed expression.

"Oh-oh! Nothing." He fumbles and almost knocks the sauteed bacon to the floor. "Never mind. Just-just forget it, please." He closes his eyes for a few seconds. "I'm just tired, I'm sorry."

"No! You're not tired." She drops the unopened beer bottle into the sink. "Tell me what you really think about him."

"I... I just not-" She finished putting all the food in, sighing low and leaning his lower back against the counter. "I don't want to hear about him. I don't."

"Why?"

They exchanged glances for a few seconds, in complete silence. Something clicked in the engineer’s mind, making her slowly open her lips.

"Oh my God. Are you jealous?"

He looks away from hers, fiddling with the ends of his blond strands.

"Stop! Are you-are you jealous?" Her voice was slightly shaky.

"Please." He closed his eyes, running his hand over his temples. "Please just shut up about it. Just keep it between us. Just shut up." He muttered, completely embarrassed.

He didn't realise when they got so close, but when he felt her lips almost brushing against his lobe, his breath failed him.

"Make me."

In a single motion, he put his hands on her waist, pressing her against the countertop, and then his body was against her as well. One hand went up to her face and their lips touched. At first, she didn’t kiss back, her head was processing what just happened between them. Sebastian pulled away after a few seconds, she didn’t reciprocate, ‘of course she wouldn’t, she’s in love with that Alpine douche bag’ the older man thought. Her head was full, all the suppressed feelings for him, the need to find other men to endlessly satisfy her and yet she was never satisfied, because they weren’t him. Matheo wasn’t Vettel, he never could be even one percent of what the German was.

When the blond was loosening the touch around her, the engineer finally woke from her trance, grabbing his shirt with both of her hands, pulling him back against her, connecting their lips. It was a sloppy kiss, deep and passionate, it looked like they waited years to share it - in fact, it did. Her hands were on his chest, while he embraced her waist, pulling her closer. Their lips fit perfectly, their rhythm was like no other and their tongues passed each other’s, enjoying the bitter taste of beer. It started to become sloppier, with her leg going up his waist and his body adjusting in the middle of her legs, small moans and lip bites were exchanged - maybe too many times, but they weren’t sober enough to care. The engineer’s lips lowered to his jaw and soon they were along his neck, biting, licking and nibbling spots that would be very visible next morning. Vettel threw his head back at the action, groaning her name, lowering both of his hands to her ass cheeks, squeezing it.

“Bed… Bedroom.” He said, breathless.

She smiled and walked out from him, going up the mezzanine’s stairs and waiting for him. As soon as he reached her, he threw her on the bed, with a naughty smile.

“Show me… How much you know me.”

“Of course, lieb.” He kneeled on the bed, holding her shirt hem.

[lurakha]

book recommendation tag game ✨️

rules: recommend as many books as you like. please include genre and some basic information on it (either your words or a copy+paste synopsis). feel free to include cover art, a personal review, trigger warnings, and anything else! just don’t spoil the book!

thanks for the tag @dekarios 🫶🏻

still somewhat getting back into reading after a longer slump so here's some of my go-to favs/recommendations 🤍

BOG CHILD by Siobhan Dowd

Digging for peat in the mountain with his Uncle Tally, Fergus finds the body of a child, and it looks like she’s been murdered. As Fergus tries to make sense of the mad world around him—his brother on hunger-strike in prison, his growing feelings for Cora, his parents arguing over the Troubles, and him in it up to the neck, blackmailed into acting as courier to God knows what—a little voice comes to him in his dreams, and the mystery of the bog child unfurls.

Genre: Historical Fiction

This was on the list of assigned reading for a literature seminar on the Troubles in Northern Ireland I took back in uni so I didn't really expect it to be so nice™ and it quickly became one of my favourite books. It was a lot 'lighter' compared to the others on that list, both in terms of reading level and also the overall mood of the story.

THE POISON THRONE by Celine Kiernan

Wynter returns from a five-year exile in the bleak Northlands to find her beloved homeland in turmoil. King Jonathan's civilised, multicultural realm is no more; the gibbets and cages have returned. Days of laughter, friendly ghosts and gossipy cats remain only in Wynter's memory - the present confronts her with power play, dark torture chambers, violent ghosts, and cats (those still alive) too scared to talk to humans.

Genre: Fantasy

The Moorehawke trilogy was the first book series that really got me into reading as a hobby. While it's been some time since I've read it, this series and its characters still hold a very special place in my heart.

BLOOD OF ELVES by Andrzej Sapkowski

For more than a hundred years, humans, dwarves, gnomes and elves lived together in relative peace. But times have changed, the uneasy peace is over and now the races are fighting once again - killing their own kind and each other. Into this tumultuous time is born a child of prophecy, Ciri, surviving heiress of a bloody revolution, whose strange abilities can change the world - for good, or for evil... As the threat of war hangs over the land, Geralt the Witcher must protect Ciri from those who are hunting the child for her destructive power.

Genre: High Fantasy

This recommendation probably isn't a surprise bc I can never shut up about the Witcher but still. All the love. Technically my favourite of the series is a tie between Time of Contempt and Tower of the Swallow but it makes more sense to recommend the first book of a series.

THE MIDNIGHT LIBRARY by Matt Haig

The books in the Midnight Library enable Nora to live as if she had done things differently. With the help of an old friend, she can now undo every one of her regrets as she tries to work out her perfect life. But things aren't always what she imagined they'd be, and soon her choices place the library and herself in extreme danger. Before time runs out, she must answer the ultimate question: what is the best way to live?

Genre: Contemporary Fiction

One of the few books that I actually put tabs in to re-read certain paragraphs and lines. You know when you just find something at the exact right time? This book was one of those. Made me feel all sorts of things. Made me smile and sob and laugh. Made me feel a little more alive. Also I'm just a sucker for anything butterfly effect/what if.

TW for this one are big so I'm including them: the main underlying theme/premise is mental illness (namely depression) & suicide (attempt)

Tagging anyone who sees this and wants to do it too 💞

[cosmiccandydreamer]

Violent delights chapter 2

You follow Alastor back to his room; you've pretty much sobered up now, and a pleasant, calm feeling has washed over you; maybe he thought everything you said was a joke; he knew you had a strange sense of humor. He watched you observe the many books and art pieces he had scattered around the room. “You know that the second time you told me that you read that book “Oh, sorry,” you put back a book that caught your attention. “ no apology is needed. I enjoy your stories.” he ushered you to sit down while he set a small box on the table. Maybe you had just imagined the tense moment a moment ago at the table; you wondered if maybe he wasn't flirting with me; he is a gentleman, after all, and from a different time. “Do you ever get tired of my questions, though like about your life before and stuff ?” you asked him, lightly rubbing your hands together. He smiled lightly at you. “No, no, I don't. I enjoyed our conversations and telling you about my time; I think it's refreshing that you're interested.

" The past is an important thing, my dear. We can learn much from it.”.” I wish I could have spent more time on earth” your head in your hands signing, “those damn satanic nuns were so strict you'd think they were real nuns” You both sat in comfortable silence until Alastor cleared his throat.” So, did you enjoy the dinner earlier? I must say I was surprised at your adventurous nature”. He folded his hands on the table, looking at you inquisitively. “Oh, I don't know,” you looked away as you spoke,” you and Roise seemed so fond of it, I thought, why the hell not?”. That wasn't the whole truth; you knew it and felt he knew it. But he didn't press the issue, “Well, I have more for you to try! I keep some bites around my room in case I have the midnight cravings”. The Idea of him having midnight cravings is a little comical to you. Something so simple and domestic. It reminded you that even though the radio hosts secretly pretended to be above frivolous domestic things, he craved it. You had a clue about such things, considering your friendship's direction. You two longed for a simple domestic life at times. You enjoyed your life here for the most part, you had no desire to be redeemed and go to heaven. You had quite an animosity towards heaven.

Your eyes glossed over as you remembered your long and heartbreaking journey to where you were now. The angels had killed your angelic father for disagreeing with them and their politics and drove your other father out into the stars for his protection. Your fathers Azirphele and Crowley, angels and demons who had fallen in love on earth, angering heaven. Crowley had been a friend of Lucifer’s before the fall and helped them escape Adam's wrath when he learned of it their love. Azrapehle was created after Lilith used strands of her hair, but later, he turned into an angel because his pure heart and soul which made him her little brother part angel part human. Both of your fathers were respected liaisons between heaven and hell, which promoted meetings with each other on earth. They eventually realize they do not like their life's direction and decide to make Earth their home. Zira had realized the extent of heaven's depravity and hypocrisyy and Crowley had decided he was done spreading chaos.

Zira was no longer welcome in heaven after they learned of his betrayal, but it seems they were leaving them alone for the time being; Crowley was welcome in hell but knew that his time there was done. He had visited Lucifer and Lilith with Zira after Charlie was born. He expressed that they wished they two could have a child, but the miracles of heaven had now been lost to Zira. Which is when the Morningstars decided to offer to surrogate for the couple. After all, they both owed them a debt and with some demon magic, they could transfer Crowley's DNA to Lilith. The pregnancy was instant and only took a day or two due to accelerated magic. You were born in hell, technically making you hellborn, but your fathers insisted on raising you on earth, their home.

You would come back and visit your cousin Charlie periodically and spend weeks in hell. I was wondering if you enjoyed your time with Morningstars. It wasn't until Armageddon had taken place on Earth. Most of Hell's residents didn't understand the politics and goings-on of what happened on Earth, but your fathers had tried to intervene. Heaven had deemed Zira a traitor and killed him in the crossfire. Crowley, fearing for you, dropped you at a satanic covenant loyal to him. He instructed them to raise you until his return as he fought off heaven to ensure your safety. He also told them in the event he does not return, summon Lucifer to take them into hell. With a kiss on the head and tears in his eyes, your demon father left for the night. You never saw him again. The satanic nuns were kind and fun but also very protective. You missed exploring Earth with your fathers. The nuns scolded you for your carelessness. What if heaven had seen you, but they understood your restlessness.They had waited long enough, it seemed Crowley would not return. Summoning Lucifer, they explain the situation to him, who immediately melted at the side of you. He took you back to hell with him. She is excited that Charlie has a friend and cousin to keep her occupied. Lilith had left him, and his depression was causing him to be an absent father. He adopted you, giving you the last name Morningstar and anointing you a fellow princess of hell.You and Charlie became inseparable, caring for each other when you both had absent parents. You two were inseparable until you grew up, and you began to take your responsibilities as a princess of how much more serious than she did. You attended the hell meetings with the overlords in place of your adopted father, who you called Uncle Luci; you also didn't take any shit, You were kind like Charlie, friendly, sweet, but you also had a temper. You weren't afraid to extend your claws and swipe someone across the mouth for verbally assaulting you.

Grown now, you attended the overlord meetings often in place of Lucifer, bringing back information to him about the companies and goings and the pentagram. You didn't believe he read the reports, but he still was grateful that you brought them back to him. The overlords respected you, for the most part, understanding that you took your ranking in hell seriously. That is where you met a particular deer demon and cannibal demon. You liked both of them. You didn't get a chance to get to know Rosie as much as you wanted, as she was always quick to return to Cannibaltown to attend to her many responsibilities. Still, you had developed a rapport of affection for each other. On the other hand, the dear demon was a little more hesitant to get to know you, cautious to anyone he let in his inner circle, but you had grown on him.

You were usually waiting until the meeting was over. Both of you would walk back to your car, gossiping about the events of the meeting. Before long, you both would stop for tea at a nearby cafe and decompress from the meetings. He enjoyed your company. He learned of your time on earth and your family; you knew very little. You turned into his radio broadcast every night with fascination. This was short-lived because his chair was empty at the meetings one day. Soon, days passed and weeks, and you believed you'd never see him again. A strange longing began to creep into your heart. You missed his company, And unbeknownst to you. He missed yours. He enjoyed that he could relate to you on so many levels.

Despite your rank in hell, you were lonely; many people disliked the Morningstar family due to Lucifer's absent nature. So, of course, it was amazing when you showed up at the hotel after hearing your sister's plan; at this point, you called each other sisters, which felt too informal for your relationship. So you were excited to check out this new project she told you about and asked you to stop by this "hazbin hotel". Walking into the hotel, Charlie ran up to you excited "Y/n oh, it's excellent. I'm so happy you're here; we have someone who wants to help us.” She pulled your hand towards the main room. Dragging behind her, you laughed, “Who is this? They must be super special if you're this excited!”. She introduces you to the current staff, husk and niffty

He shakes your hand, saying it's nice to meet you, while Nifty hugs your leg, saying she is so excited for another princess here to watch her roach show, whatever that is. “and this is Alastor! The radio demon; you may have heard his show?”. You turn, smiling at him, meeting his gaze. He takes your hand, kissing it,” I wondered where you went. Great to see you again.” his lips felt soft, surprisingly, against your skin. He straightens up. “And it's good to see you again, Miss Morningstar; I've missed our post-meeting talks greatly.” “Oh! You met before!!!! That's wonderful! This should work out great then,” Charlie exclaims. She wanders off, talking out loud to Vaggie about some exercise for tomorrow. “COME,” Alastor said, “let's catch up, my dear.” and catch up you did; it felt as if no time had passed; soon, you were laughing and walking around the hotel as if you were the oldest of friends.

You had stopped going to the meetings. However, the piles of notes and paperwork going untouched by Uncle Luci made no sense to continue, plus the tension that had started to build at them made you feel uneasy. And so it went an unexpected family dynamic. The two of you began to get closer, and Alastor started to feel possessive about you in some ways;when others seemed to occupy your time. Narrowing his eyes when you told him "just a second" while listening to angel or husk. He also disliked when he heard of outings in seedy parts of town. What if someone hurt you? Kidnapped you?. It wasn't something he wanted to think about. He asked himself why though he cares so much. You're nothing but another morningstar after all. But he realized he craved those moments in the morning, you sleepily walking downstairs to say good morning to him, asking him how his previous day was. Interested in any sinners he has to slaughter.

He also felt a sense of pride every time you expressed interest in anything related to him. He overheard you asking others for information about him, like his favorite food, movies, and past. It intrigued him that you were taking interest, and it scared him that he could see a future with you, especially when he discovered that your past was not as squeaky clean as your sisters.

You weren't afraid to get your hands dirty, and he wanted to explore that; he wanted to explore more of you, how much he could push you, and what lengths you would go for him. Little did he know that you felt the same. You had become intrigued by him entranced there was something so mysterious so alluring you wanted to know more of him. You wanted to see more of him, it didn't hurt that. He was incredibly handsome as well and such a gentleman. The more you two spend time together, the more you realize this magnetic pool that you had of him. You were curious about his life before he died and you were curious about his life that he currently lived. He was an overlord yes, but still it seemed as though there was many inner working in his daily life that left much to the imagination. He was also so particular. It felt like everyday you were learning something so new about him. You found yourself wanting to impress him. The fact that he was so picky was so many mundane things. When you can find something that he enjoyed, it felt like an accomplishment. More and more, you started to realize that you wanted to spend most of your time around him declining invites and choosing to spend evenings talking with him or listening to his broadcast. You couldn't put your finger on it, but you started to imagine that possibly he felt the same. You noticed that he hovered around you more than anyone else was very inquisitive about where you would go when he could not accompany you. He also seemed to narrow his eyes and twitched the corners of his mouth. If you expressed you were going somewhere in a neighborhood that was a bit more dangerous.

He started to insist that he would come with you or that you wait until he can. "It's for you own safety my dear! Can't let anything happen to my dear friend". Friend the word sounded so right and so wrong at the same time. You remember your father's domestic lives making dinner together and breakfast going for walks, spending time in each other's company with comfortable silence. When you lingered on that memory too long, a pain started to grow in your heart. You felt as though you would never have that with someone. At least not here. Not until you met alastor, his 1930's demeanor made your imagination wonder, could he be the closest you could have to a domestic "normal" life?. His habits of depravity and violence would turn most people away but not you. They stirred something down inside of you, primal attraction. He was so powerful, demanded respect and authority; it was attractive and you felt yourself falling harder and harder everyday.

[underthewingsofthblackeagle]

PSA - My Account on AO3

My dear, patient readers,

today I must address you about an important development. Most of you will be aware of the development in the field of Artificial Intelligence (AI). As AO3 already shared in their news, corresponding tools are able to grab texts from all web pages and use them elsewhere. Please read AO3's announcement here: https://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/25888 To protect my stories, I will follow the technical advice of AO3 (like many, many other writers) and block my Ao3 fics coming Friday at midnight (Berlin Time) and only allow readers with Ao3 accounts to read them. If you are a "guest reader", please set up an account to continue reading. How do you do that? Here is the answer by AO3:

"To receive an invitation from our automated queue, select the "Get Invited!" button below the Welcome message on our  homepage. You can then add your email to the    Invite Requests  list. Invitations are sent on a first-come, first-served basis. For more information on the status of your invitation request, refer to   How long will it take for me to get an invitation?" 

I know this will cause inconvenience because it will take some time to get an invitation by AO3. But it is the only thing we writers can do at the moment to protect our texts. Thank you very much for your understanding. Another quick update: I've had a chance to continue working on "We're Only Doing This For Fergus" over the past few days. The next chapter is 50% done. So there is hope :)

[astrowaffles]

The Megumi-Is-Gojo’s-Son Incident

General Audiences | Fluff, chaos, Megumi & Gojo being father & son

"Yeah, yeah," Gojo waved, "Megumi's way more fun to mess with though."

"You do seem to do that a lot," Nobara mused. "It's like you enjoy making him so mad he punches you."

"That was once," Fushiguro pointed out.

"Yeah, and?"

"Alright, settle down," Gojo interrupted. "Megumi has been easy to annoy for as long as I've known him, it's too good to pass up."

"It's not like you've known him for a long time, though," Yuji mused, "He's only 15." Even if Fushiguro had been at school before Yuji, it couldn't have been longer than a few weeks.

"It feels like forever," Fushiguro groaned. He put his head down on the table; Gojo reached across to stroke his hair. Fushiguro slapped his hand.

Maybe Yuji had been too fast to call favouritism. If he was Gojo, he would spend his time annoying Fushiguro too.

Gojo's shit-eating grin had faded into a soft smile as Fushiguro scowled at him from across the table. "I bought you mochi," he offered. He held up a bag, separate from the mix-and-match bundle he'd brought for the rest of the school to share.

 Then again, maybe Yuji had been spot on.

----------------

OR: Gojo is Megumi's dad and Jujutsu Tech doesn't know....yet.

Gojo's missions were something Yuji was used to; he was in and out of Jujutsu Tech at a mile a minute, apparently unable to sit still or stay at home for longer than at a week at a time. Nanami seemed to be in a similar position, though he was much stricter about what he allowed himself to do (if his work took him past five pm, he just walked out - providing no-one was at immediate risk). Gojo would leave at midnight, stopping by the dorms to leave notes and training ideas for his students, and come back at 5am the next day. Yuji knew he was back because the doughnuts had been taken out of the cupboard. In this case, Gojo had left at a normal time (11am) but he hadn't been back in two weeks, or maybe more.

When Gojo was away, training was left to the students. Yuji had technically been assigned to make sure Fushiguro didn't retreat into his room - never to return to the outside world - but it was so difficult to drag him out when Gojo wasn't there to annoy his student through the door. 

"Come on, Fushiguro," Yuji wheedled, "I know you don't wanna be in there all the time!"

"I do," Fushiguro argued. Yuji heard him shift on his bed, probably to face the door since his voice became clearer. "I do quite a lot, actually."

"You have to train!"

"I have done. I have trained almost constantly for the past week."

Okay, so that wasn't wrong, he really had been training plenty. Still, he'd been training alone, and Yuji had a purpose.

"Gojo said you have to be nice to me," he tried; Fushiguro didn't really like authority but it was probably worth a try.

"Gojo isn't the boss of me."

"....Yes he is?"

"Semantics."

"That's not semantics!" A pause. "What are semantics?"

A loud sigh, then the door swung open to reveal Megumi (dressed, but not dressed for training).

"Dude, why aren't you dressed for training?" Yuji asked.

"Because I'm not going to train? Rest is important."

"I don't think I've ever heard you say you're not going to train. You're always training."

"If I'm always training, why are you here?"

Ah. Oops. Hadn't thought of that.

"To train with you! You've really left me alone this week, Fushigurooooooo-"

"Shut up."

"Bro! Don't you want to hang out with me?"

"Not really. I like my space."

"You're talking to me right now though."

Fushiguro shut the door. In Yuji's face.

"Rude."

"Not rude!" Fushiguro called through the door. "Self-preservation!"

"Rude!" Yuji called back. He didn't get a reply.

"Woah, what's going on here?" a voice asked from behind him.

"Fushiguro won't - wait, Gojo?!"

"Hey there," Gojo grinned. He looked pretty tired, but he held out one of his shopping bags to Itadori with a smile. "Look in there, I brought souvenirs!"

"Ooh!!" Yuji shoved a hand into the bag, rustling countless packets of sweets and plastic-covered statues. "Where even did you go?"

"Oh, all over," Gojo waved an airy hand. "You can pick anything you like."

Yuji nodded to show he'd heard, still submerged in various souvenirs. Gojo looked towards Fushiguro's door.

"Megumi in his room?"

"Yeah. Said rest was important."

"He never says that."

"I know!"

Gojo hummed but didn't say anything else. Yuji looked up. "Why? You think something's up?"

"Maybe." He reached out to tap lightly on the door. "Gumi? You in there?"

Yuji couldn't help noticing that Fushiguro opened the door at lot faster for Gojo than for him. 

"What." Fushiguro snapped, though his expression softened a bit when he saw Gojo properly.

"Heard you were resting," Gojo commented.

"Yeah."

"Been training this week?"

"Yeah. Just .. resting now. Might have overtrained, or something."

"But you've been super careful," Yuji pointed out. "And you've been looking after yourself really well."

Gojo inclined his head. "Yeah, he's good like that." He took a step forward. "Colour?"

"Blue." Fushiguro stepped aside so there was space for Gojo to get past him into the room. Gojo did just that; the door closed. Low murmuring could be heard, and a thunk which was probably Fushiguro hitting his head on a wall in frustration (as he was wont to do).

Yuji scowled.

"Rude."

  "And then," Yuji complained, "They shut the door on me!"

"Well, they left you with the souvenirs," Nobara commented, reaching into the bag of sweets Itadori had brought her. 

"That's not the point! It's basically favouritism!" 

"It's not like it hurts you if Gojo wants to make sure Fushiguro's okay."

"But he was fine! I know he was fine! He was just being - antisocial, or something!"

"Sometimes people need to recharge."

"Why are you on Fushiguro's side?!"

"I'm on the side of justice," she replied primly, crunching on her snack. "Seriously, though, he gets like this at least once a month. He'll be fine but maybe Gojo just wanted to make sure it didn't hurt his cursed energy."

Yuji considered this, though he highly doubted it was true. "Maybe. Whatever, it's still favouritism. Where was Gojo when I had that cold last month?"

"He got you medicine and tea. And ramen. That's where he was."

"Shut up."

"I'm right."

"...No you're not."

"I am."

"Nope."

"Just admit it!"

"Admit it's suspicious!"

"Suspicious how?!"

"Suspicious that he's checking on Fushiguro!"

"How is that suspicious??"

"I don't know! What was that whole 'colour blue' thing about?"

"They've been doing that all the time, Itadori, keep up."

"See, they've always been suspicious! So suspicious!"

"You mean they've always cared about each other."

"Same difference."

"Not really."

"I'm never talking to you again."

  Gojo had chosen to eat with them since he'd been on a mission so long, which meant Fushiguro did a lot more eyerolling and sighing than normal, but other than that he seemed okay. Yuji decided it was probably better not to bring up the odd behaviour in case it triggered it all over again.

"Look, Megumi!" Gojo was saying. He was waving around some kind of sprinkles packet. "It's you!"

"Hilarious," Fushiguro deadpanned. 

"It's me too!" Nobara argued.

"How is it either of you?" Yuji demanded, reaching out a hand for the packet. Gojo gave it to him with a smirk.

"It's rainbow," Fushiguro sighed. 

"And I am what is commonly known as a homosexual," Nobara proclaimed proudly, like it was a trophy she'd won.

"So...Fushiguro and you are gay?"

"I'm pan, I wish Gojo would stop this stuff," Fushiguro complained. Gojo shrugged.

"It's good for you to be clowned a bit, Megumi, God knows Tsumiki would never let me before."

Fushiguro rolled his eyes (he was currently running three for three on exasperated reactions). "Is this the pain of getting older? Being bullied by you?"

"Too right it is!" Gojo nodded. "Stay vigilant. You never know when I might attack next~"

"Shut up," was Fushiguro's only comment, before he turned back to his food. Nobara huffed.

"We were talking about me being gay, not whatever Fushiguro's got going on."

"Yeah, yeah," Gojo waved, "Megumi's way more fun to mess with though."

"You do seem to do that a lot," Nobara mused. "It's like you enjoy making him so mad he punches you."

"That was once," Fushiguro pointed out. 

"Yeah, but you're never living it down."

"That's your fault, though!"

"Yeah, and?"

"Alright, settle down," Gojo interrupted. "Megumi has been easy to annoy for as long as I've known him, it's too good to pass up."

"It's not like you've known him for a long time, though," Yuji mused, "He's only 15." They'd only joined Jujutsu Tech that year, so even if Fushiguro had been there before Yuji, it couldn't have been longer than a few weeks.

"It feels like forever," Fushiguro groaned. He put his head down on the table; Gojo reached across to stroke his hair. Fushiguro slapped his hand.

Maybe Yuji had been too fast to call favouritism. If he was Gojo, he would spend his time annoying Fushiguro too.

Gojo's shit-eating grin had faded into a soft smile as Fushiguro scowled at him from across the table. "I bought you mochi," he offered. "As a souvenir." He held up a bag, separate from the mix-and-match bundle he'd brought for the rest of the school to share.

Then again, maybe Yuji had been spot on.

"Where's my bag of mochi?" Nobara demanded, like a mind reader.

"It's probably in there somewhere," Gojo said defensively, gesturing to the huge bag he'd given Yuji. He passed the bag to Fushiguro, who passed it to Nobara. Gojo made a noise of offense.

"Hey, that's for you!"

"I don't really like sweets," Fushiguro reminded him, with an air of someone who has this conversation once a week.

"Everybody likes sweets!"

"Well, clearly not, because I don't."

"I'm not complaining," Nobara observed, her mouth already full. "Good for you, Fushiguro." She smacked Yuji's hand as it attempted to reach into the box. "Get your own."

"That's not even yours!"

"Finders keepers."

"Oh my god," Fushiguro sighed heavily, "Share and stop whining." He took the box from Nobara and gave it to Yuji, then fished in the bag for another box which he gave to Nobara. "Happy?"

"Ooh, strawberry," Nobara beamed. "Extremely happy."

Gojo pouted. "Why don't you want what I brought you?"

Fushiguro put his hand, palm up, on the table. Gojo put his hand on it. "Sorry, Gojo, but you know I don't like them."

"Why are you two acting like star crossed lovers or something?" Yuji commented. Fushiguro immediately retracted his hand with a look of disgust.

"Ew, don't ever say that again," he snapped. "That's actually disgusting."

"And illegal," Gojo interjected, though he seemed to be enjoying Fushiguro's reaction. 

"Stop smirking at me!" Fushiguro told him sharply. "You know it's horrific."

"I mean, if you were legal age it wouldn't be that bad..." Nobara mused, then she shook her head. "No. Still weird. Yuji needs to go sit in the corner and think about what he's done."

"Sorry! You just seem really close."

"Well, I have known Megumi for a long time." Gojo took on an almost nostalgic impression. "Oh, I miss those days. Days when I could turn up to parent-teacher conferences and horrify everyone by asking him if he'd remembered not to tuck his thumb in when he punched. Days when he could look at me with absolute disgust because I tried to feed him ice cream. Days when he said he hated me for messing with his toy animal collection but then apologized to me by letting me hug him. Days when his little eight-year-old eyes-"

"EIGHT?!" Yuji yelped. "How have you known him that long?!"

"I've known Gojo since I was six." Fushiguro's expression was somewhat tortured. "What a horrific nearly-ten-year experience it has been."

"What, so you've been taught by Gojo since you were six?" Nobara asked. "That's a bit unfair, no? No wonder I'm behind!"

"Taught, raised, parented, all that jazz," Gojo said, his dramatic dream-like tone causing Fushiguro's scowl to deepen.

"Raised?!"

"Gojo is my legal guardian," Fushiguro monotoned. "He has played the role of a slightly absent, extremely irritating father for almost all of my memory."

"Aw, Gumi!" Gojo cooed. "That's so sweet of you!"

"So when you actually called Gojo Dad that one time..." Yuji's eyes widened.

"Yeah, it really wasn't as abstract as you thought," Fushiguro nodded. "Still embarrassing."

"He used to call me Satoru," Gojo divulged, leaning forward as if finally interested in the topic. "'Toru if he was feeling affectionate."

"Awwwwwwww," Nobara smiled. "That's disgustingly sweet. Who knew Fushiguro had it in him."

"So.." Yuji was on a roll now. "That whole 'colour blue' thing..."

"Megumi was a bit down," Gojo agreed. "He's a bit emotionally constipated, poor thing-"

"Hey!"

"-But that's how we make sure he doesn't break anything-"

"If I'm emotionally constipated, it's your fault!"

"I never said I wasn't emotionally constipated too!"

"You certainly implied it!"

"I would never do something so rude! You know me, Gumi-Gumi, always out to do my bit for the world~"

"You have threatened to commit genocide multiple times."

"Now, now, that's classified information-"

"God, they really are father and son," Nobara said, muffled a little by the last of her mochi. She wrinkled her nose as Gojo and Megumi pulled the exact same expression.

"The apple never falls far from the tree," Yuji agreed, watching them start to arm wrestle. "It's nice, though."

"Hear that?" Gojo crowed, pausing his competition. "They think we're related!"

"Oh my god," Fushiguro groaned. "Kill me now."

A03 | Exclusives | Tip Me | Commissions

[dallonwrites]

hi dallon i hope your day has been a good one so far!!! 00, 13, and 19 for the tarot asks?

hi bestie you too! it's past midnight here so technically the day is already done but it was good i cleaned my room and made sushi (also january 11th is felix and dorothy's birthday so. happy birthday to the worst and best people i know!)

THE FOOL: BEGINNINGS (What is the opening line to your current work?)

i'm juggling multiple wips in my brain at once atm instead of just focusing on one so besides short stories, here's the opening line for the three wips that are controlling my brain:

The rabbit traps are empty.

In the laundromat, Dorothy searches an abandoned windbreaker for quarters. It’s Midnight, a neon light soaks everything in an alien green, and her brother - who she hasn’t seen in three years - asks for the nearest place to buy cigarettes. (maybe this is cheating because it's two sentences but i want to reword it into one sentence and also, i can do what i want)

Adele needs a new mother.

DEATH: ENDINGS (What is your favorite ending to write i.e happy, sad, bittersweet?) 

really depends on the project! like with revelations, revelations, i've gone through multiple different endings that have been happy, hopeful, bittersweet, dark, very dark, TOO dark, and all of those possibilities compelled me but it was ultimately something hopeful that suited the story. i'd call it strained but hopeful. i think most of my projects tend to lean onto bittersweet though with a glimmer of hope, as a treat

THE SUN: POSITIVITY (What is your greatest writing strength or skill?)

definitely character development i think! they are what drive my writing so it's good that i know how to make them compelling LOL! and i think that strength comes from the fact that honestly, my characters feel as real as people that live in my brain and words can feel (which again is what suits my writing. not saying you have to see characters that way to write them well!). they are truly just besties that live inside my brain

writer tarot asks

[thewolfisawake]

Rules, tag 10 followers  you want to get to know better!

Tagged by: @arcxnumvitae Tagging: Go for it

Name: Destiny though I tend to go by Kirei on here. Either is fine.

Star Sign: Gemini (sun), Pieces (moon), Aries (rising)

Height: 5'4", 5'5" no one has consensus.

Middle name: Desha

Put your itunes/spotify/youtube on shuffle. What are the first 6 songs that popped up?

Dance Past Midnight - Calliope Mori feat AmaLee

Conceited (There's Something About Remy) - Remy Ma

Cheshire Game from Royal Scandal

Let Me Blow Ya Mind - Eve feat Gwen Stefani

Juicy - Doja Cat

When the World Was Mine from The Count of Monte Cristo Musical

Ever had a poem or song written about you: Once. It was super embarrassing. We found an old floppy disk (look, I am old but not that old, my school just wasn't up to date) where a boy I knew had a crush on me had written a poem about me and how my guy bestie had taken 'his girl.' idk, man, I don't even remember the rest.

When was the last time you played air guitar: Probably last week. I listen to music all the time at work and tend to pretend instruments or wiggle around on songs that happen to hit that day.

Who is your celebrity crush?: Mmm, I don't really have crushes. Sure I find many attractive but not really a crush. Maybe Maggie Q since I consistently think of her when I think hot celebs?

What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?: I hate the sound of velcro being ripped apart. It used to just give me shivers through my ears. As for sounds I like, I like the clacking sound of keys on a keyboard.

Do you believe in ghosts?: I believe just about anything could be possible. I simply do not want to be the one to fuck around and find out.

How about aliens: Definitely. I mean do you know how much space it out there? The odds for us to be the only life in the entire universe? There's no way.

Do you drive?: Yep. Can be thought of as driving enjoyer because of the antics of driving I've done. Or that I often drive for outings but I just...don't mind. I don't love but I don't hate it.

if so have you ever crashed: No and hopefully that track record continues.

What was the last book you read?: Technically I started The Spear Cuts Through Water. It hasn't gripped me yet and Pandora Hearts is calling me.

Do you like the smell of gasoline: In a weird way, yes? It's not a favorite by any means but like there's something about the scent when pull you pull up to fill up.

What was the last movie you saw?: Ponyo. I had actually never seen it and am determined to see through all of Ghibli Fest this year.

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?: It's a toss up between playing predator and prey (a more complicated and intense game of tag) that ended with me slamming my knee so hard it swelled the point I could not walk for several days. Or a sprain I received when I slid into bases in softball and the subsequent extended time it took for it to heal since my dad would not take me to a doctor.

Do you have any obsessions right now?: Actually nothing right now? It actually kinda sucks. I end up zoning out and don't even know what I did for time to pass as it did--Was really hoping for it to be E.lden Ring though. Either that or I slip back into G.enshin. I should be doing cosplay so I have something ready by the end of summer.

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

Helloooo my love, I've been thinking about you and idk when you're gonna answer this BUT I have many many things to talk to you about!!!!

I believe you're almost done Doom, congratulations!! It really is a fun drama, I enjoyed it and I hope you aren't disappointed by the last episode <3 how is Goblin coming along? Or did you drop that one?

One thing I absolutely love about you is that whenever you consume media, you pick it apart and see the good themes and see the narratives and I love it when you do that!! I don't believe you are looking for recommendations but I do have a few to give you if you're ever bored <3

vincenzo (kdrama), extraordinary you (kdrama), just between lovers (kdrama), hometown cha cha cha (kdrama), first love hatsukoi (jdrama), alice in borderland (jdrama), tune in for love (kmovie), your eyes tell (jmovie), better days (cmovie)

all of these I would LOVE to hear your analysis on and most of them offer the MOST brain rot potential, however if I have to choose one to shove at you it is alice in borderland because I just finished the second season (8 eps per season) and like the THEMES are there and you won't get it till you watch it but I WANT TO SCREAM TO YOU ABOUT IT ITS SO GOOD!!!!

So idk if me coming here and suggesting it will do anything, but please please please watch alice in borderland it is soooo worth it one of the best asian dramas I have EVER seen I cannot speak about it enough THE ENDING!!!! (It is pretty violent/gory just fyi)

anyways merry Christmas <3

Hellooooo Lindsay dearest! It's always good to see you and hear from you! How are you doing? I hope you're well and also have a very Merry Christmas!!! (It's like two minutes past midnight here it's technically Christmas now).

I am almost finished with Doom!!! It really was fun, I honestly doubt I'll be disappointed if the quality is the same as the rest of it. I am technically also still watching Goblin but I got distracted watching Arcane (which I ADORE) and then also the 2007 War and Peace miniseries and now I'm home with my family so I have less time etc etc so I may not get back to Goblin for a while, but it's SO GOOD I'm definitely going to finish it at some point I promise you.

I'm very glad my analysis is fun to read, even when a lot of it is just me going AAAHHHHHHHH a lot about things 😂😂, and I am ALWAYS looking for recs even if it'll take me years to get to them. All of those sound very interesting, I was already looking at Vincenzo and hometown cha cha cha but I haven't looked at the others! I love a bit of brain rot, and I do need a bit of brain rot in my life at all times, keeps me unstable enough to be funny, so I'll definitely think about looking at Alice in Borderland next!!! And I'm fine with gore so it sounds perfect!

I'm afraid I don't have many TV recs right now for you because you've watched The Bear, although if you haven't seen Arcane I would absolutely recommend it (ignore the fact it's based on League of Legends I do not see it I am looking away). OH and also I want to read the locked tomb series but I haven't yet, so take this with a pinch of salt but I DID read the first two chapters on Tor and it's so funny and the writing style is so good, so idk I'll let you know but it's shaping up to be good.

Love ya and merry Christmas again! 💖💖💖💖💖💖

[deborahotero]

My shadow exploring Gros Morne National Park, Fall 2018.

Freeform Friday | Divine Timing

"Before you call you are answered, for the supply precedes the demand." - Florence Scovel Shinn

Florence and I are a little late, I know, I'm sorry - but better late than never, right? Divine timing in all affairs.

Although it is passed midnight by now, (so technically, it's Saturday) I've got a warm Bustelo from my local Dominican spot the on this desk beside my laptop - so I am up. It is still Friday, October 18th, 2024 as far as I'm concerned.

Yesterday I thought, "Oh tomorrow is Friday, I better get ready to write because I done told everyone I would post a weekly writing entry" so here goes - as promised. The power of accountability.

"I did anticipate this quiet moment with myself though, I really need it."

So let's see, where do I begin? I guess I can start with sharing what is top of mind, which is what I did today. I had a much more productive day off today than I usually have. It could be that this super full moon in Aries has something to do with it, ( I always feel like cleaning and organizing during full moons, ::pulls out my witch broom::) but I bet it's mainly because I went to bed at 10pm last night - a total miracle of God.

I actually woke up early enough to meditate, do a little at home yoga AND do my laundry - another miraculous event. My skin looked extra glowy, I didn't drag myself out of bed or snooze a million times - I wasn't at all hungover (who am I?) and just felt really good. The echinacea drops I took in the morning (my friend made me a tincture for immunity this season) also really helped my mood as an unexpected added bonus. I looked it up and although echinacea does not contain any caffeine, it is known to help calm anxiety.

My Thursday nights are my "Friday nights" because I am off the next day so it's usually my night to go out, to drink, to dance, to social butter-fly around town (as I do so effortlessly.) Last night though, and most nights as of late, I just wanted to cozy up under my comforter and watch YouTube on my ipad (i have not owned a television by choice for years now - would much rather read or watch educational, inspirational content. Call me a weirdo, a non-conformist, hipster - whatever you want. This decision has been so beneficial for my mental health that it's 100% worth not ever being a part of the most "binge-watched" show references at work - even though sometimes people really think I must live under a rock. I am so far out of the pop-culture loop.

It's ok, I'll be fine under here.

This past week my selections included talks by Jordan Peterson on relationships, Yuval Noah Harari (author of Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind) on the future of AI (I am officially terrified for the human race) and Elon Musk interviews sprinkled in. My super femme rebellious, smart and hilarious, The Slumflower Hour podcast and Earl Nightingale's magical audio, "The Strangest Secret" are usually on the list as well.

I am often told by elders that I am "wise beyond my years" and although that probably has a lot to do with my parents having me later in life, (my mom was 40 and my dad was 50 something - literally have siblings in their 50s and 60s - I am 38 and am a great auntie, Doña Debora) I think the "wisdom" they are picking up on has everything to do with the self-development content I consume daily.

Not having a TV also makes me get out of the house more.

After wrapping up my morning routine, I grabbed a carrot, orange, pineapple, lemon, ginger juice (my go-to) at the deli and hit my beloved Fort Tryon Park. I posted a few pictures of the view from there today - it was so sunny, clear and gorgeous. The leaves are changing color and everything is picturesque. Found a nice bench, read my 1% Leadership book for a bit while I soaked up a few rays and did some calming breath work. Trying to soak up every moment of the warmer weather this week before we plummet into the depths of freezing cold wintery temperatures.

I took the A downtown to see the Elephants in Migration exhibition in Meatpacking (posted a few shots, they are super cool), had the best Kale Cesar at RH Rooftop and hit up my friend's N Between Bar at Chelsea Market which was a dope intimate, speakeasy, retro vibe. Good music, cocktail list and service - would definitely recommend. Tempted to stop into the seafood spot - The Lobster Place for some oysters (SO good) but I need to save my coins,

Learning to perceive the 24 hours I am given each day as gifts that should be cherished doing what I love whenever possible. No rush, no strict rules, no company needed. Just a mind and body willing to be, willing to intuitively explore and experience all that life offers while intuitively trusting in divine timing.

With Gratitude,

Debs

[purplesurveys]

1793

Yesterday

1) What was the weather like? Did it change your plans in any way? It was extremely sunny during the day which kind of sucked, because yesterday my family played host to a family reunion on the rooftop and the weather made things feel a little uncomfortable. In the afternoon, while the sun did hide for a bit it ended up being super humid anyway, so in either case it really just ended up being a super sweaty affair lol.

We addressed it by making sure our aircon in the living room was turned on the entire afternoon, so that anyone who starts to feel super hot or dizzy can choose to go down – which is why it ended up pissing me off when I caught a few people not even trying to hide their bitchings about how hot it was at our place and yet refused to go downstairs when I offered. Complaints are classic Filipino guest things but something I've never learned how to tolerate so I was pretty irritated from the get-go of that damn reunion.

2) What did you do yesterday, anyway? Helped my parents host said reunion, for the most part. I was so exhausted from all the walking and hosting and socializing all over the house so ngl I was knocked out from like 5 to 8, right after people left ha. When I woke up earlier this evening I spent a few hours playing a game on my phone and now I'm here winding down with a couple of surveys. Not a very eventful Saturday which is how I prefer my weekends to be.

3) Did you eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner? What did you have? I didn't have breakfast as usual. Lunch wasn't a full meal for me, I just got like 3 pieces of sushi from our reunion spread. I also didn't have dinner and just made a cup of coffee which is still right next to me.

4) Did you do some form of exercise? What? If going up and down the stairs 200 times counts as exercise then it would be that.

5) Who did you spend the most time with? My sister. Out of the huge crowd at home, we knew each other the best so we stuck together, lol.

6) What television shows or movies did you watch? I finished Gyeongseong Creature super early on in the morning (like, technically I was watching it from Friday then it bled into the midnight hours of Saturday haha), then I also played a couple episodes of Friends for the very few people who were in my age group in the reunion.

7) What time did you get up and go to bed? I got up at like 9. Went to sleep at 3 AM earlier.

8) What was the best bit about yesterday? I can't decide between watching Gyeongseong Creature and getting to eat sushi.

9) What about the worst? Being bombarded with work messages on a Saturday. My work! Makes me! Depressed!

10) Did you talk to anyone on the phone? Who? Why? My mom needed help ordering additional food for the reunion so she called me up while she was doing last few errands at the grocery so I can take care of it.

Today

1) What time did you get up? I just got up and it's currently nearly a half hour past 8.

2) What are your plans for today? I'll be taking my family to my favorite ramen place for lunch, then later in the afternoon I'll be seeing my close friends for our super late Christmas party.

3) Have you eaten any meals yet? What did you have? None yet. I don't mind not eating for a few more hours because I'll be eating a lot today lmao, so I'd rather save up the hunger so I can fully pig out for both lunch and dinner.

4) Are you planning on seeing your friends or boyfriend/girlfriend? Yup! I'm seeing Angela, Reena, and Hans later for dinner/Christmas party. I don't think we've been together since...August? In any case, we'll be at our fav Korean spot so I'm looking forward to it.

5) Does your favorite television show air today? Breaking Bad ended 11 years ago.

6) Have you spoken to your parents yet? Nopes.

7) How many texts have you received? I haven't gotten anything yet for today.

8) Are you planning on going to bed early? I never do on Sundays because I never look forward to Mondays.

9) Have you done anything remotely productive today? Nope. The full load of my day will start in like an hour when we head to our usual Sunday mass and after that I'm going to be traveling everywhere hahaha. BGC for ramen, then I might have to shop for clothes for my Seventeen concert next week, then head home so I can drive out for dinner with friends.

10) How much money did you spend so far? Are you planning on spending more later? None yet as it's only 8 but I am for sure going to be pulling out my card a few times today.

Tomorrow

1) What time do you have to get up tomorrow? Around 8.

2) What do you hope the weather will be like? Chilly but not too chilly. Cold weather feels so good that it makes me miserable when at work, because when the weather is comfy like that all I want to do is rest. So it'll be nice if it were cold, but I hope it's not too comfy!cold that all I'll think about is why I'm not in bed, lol.

3) Is there anything you’re dreading about tomorrow? The fact that I have work and that it's Monday.

4) Is there anything important you need to do, or can you just relax? Nope, can't relax.

5) Do you have plans to see your friends? No, I never have time to during weekdays.

6) What do you hope will happen tomorrow? I hope my schedule will be nice to me.

7) Are you going to wake up at home, or somewhere else? Just at home.

8) If you don’t have any plans, what do you think you’ll end up doing? I'll be working.

9) Do you have to get a work out in at some point? Nope.

10) Will you be working or studying at all? Yes.

[qtipcottonbuds]

𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 '𝟭𝟲 ; 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗦𝗨𝗡 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗡 [CNC + STUCK IN WALL]

a little gift for @lovinglyselfish​ thank u so much for this idea, you absolute genius my bro <333333 this is technically a prelude to one of the other upcoming kinktober entries yes yes, i will also link it here also mayb this wwas too long oh hoo boy anyhoo I FINALLY DID IT. Am I embarrassed yes. But it's 2 in da morning. Whatevs

warnings ;; CNC, dubcon, (this is a roleplay), robophilia, robotfucking, possible mild language, stuck in wall, fingering, oral sex, fear play, worker!reader, reader is scared of the dark too, cumflation, excessive cum, hinting at a glory hole situation, uhhhh oh yes dacryphilia, i think thats it for now ??, also praise kink and petnames etc

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗣𝗢𝗟𝗬!𝗦𝗨𝗡+𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗡 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

Of course, it naturally seems to be that when it’s allegedly ‘too late’ most realisations come to light, or rather stab you in the back. A double-edged sword. You’d opted to take on the graveyard shifts, swapping them for the daytime shifts you’d originally been scheduled to work on - it wasn’t anything to bring home about. Aside from the lecture given to you by one of the higher-ups that even when working after-hours on a day shift, it wouldn’t contribute towards after-hours pay. If anything, the supposed after-hours payment was a complete scam for the newer workers in the Complex. 

An easy way to get more done with less hassle. What a load of shit. Sure enough, working the graveyard shifts allowed you a higher pay raise - and God knew you needed it - the original payment from the prior shift you were on barely covered insurance for questionable injuries.

Worn out, you unintentionally allow yourself to be caught off guard by the overwhelming bright lights occupying the Daycare Centre, almost blinding. In any other case, you’d be more aware, noting not to look up when easing yourself off the padding flooring - but it was late. Probably past midnight. You weren’t exactly used to these shifts. This being the first one of many more yet to come. You liked to think you’d get used to it - at some point, practice made perfect, regardless. 

You did have to admit, the new working hours weren’t all bad, if you had room for some honesty. The animatronics, you had yet the pleasure of meeting, both offered some form of company at least. Being both alone, and in the dark, was something you could never bring yourself to get accustomed to. You’d suspected it was nothing more than a childhood fear, something to grow out of as you grew older, but it stuck firmly. If anything, it grew more intense; the fear of the unknown. The feeling of something being there. Maybe you didn’t have to see it, catch a glimpse of something moving about, away from your line of sight. But, it was the feeling of knowing something could be there. The feeling of feeling something there.

Wiping down and disinfecting the toys, no doubt having been touched or better yet, coated in substances you’d prefer not to think about (especially in the production of how they came to be, exiting a child’s body) you finish up, finally, squirting the disinfectant spray for one last time onto the scrub. A small touch up over the surface of the front desk. 

Setting them down, you sigh. The term graveyard shift, wasn’t exactly an understatement when you thought about it. Your body ached. In more places you considered plausible. Yet, the quicker you got the job done, the easier it would be to head home and sleep for at least the next century. You could at least offer yourself a small break, you muse.

As you prepare to gather your belongings from underneath the main desk within the Center, you pause, catching on to the shade of an obscenely pink plastic ball from the ballpit, just near the entrance of The Cove. It wasn’t that you had any personal vengeance against the colour pink, or any of the selected colours within the Daycare Center (being nothing more than visual simulation for the little ones). It was more that they weren’t exactly gentle on the eyes. Close enough to migraine inducing from the vibrancy. No doubt some of the little children throughout the day had brought them in there. The entrance, near enough to a perfect circle, was just wide enough to crawl through. But, it was dark. Too dark. The soft fairy lights used for decoration had been turned off a few hours ago. Something about saving electricity - a fair enough point.

You contemplate for a short while, exhaling loudly. It wouldn’t hurt putting a few more plastic balls away - there were roughly around 10 to around 20 of them at the most, nothing too heavy. But, it was dark. It wasn’t the most appealing of situations, regardless of how small the hideaway was. There was no source of light occupying The Cove, aside from the overhead lighting cutting through the entry point partially. 

Nibbling on the inside of the cheek, you shift your weight from side to side. 

Quickly striding over (fear fueling your confidence more than anything), you kneel down, leaning into the circular crevice. You’d prefer not to spend any time in that area longer than you needed to. Five minutes at most if you jogged back to the main desk. Mindful of your shoulders bumping into the plush material, you reach in further, blindly palming around until the cool plastic connects with your hand. Latching on to it, you continue the process, taking out one ball at a time, steadying yourself. Nearly done. Squinting, you note there’s one ball further in than the rest, just about illuminated by the light seeping in. 

You could just leave it there. No one would truly notice, most likely until at least the next morning. Yet, you knew, begrudgingly, that even if you had proceeded with leaving it there, you couldn’t risk any mistakes. Not at least on your first night on a new shift - what would that say about you? You needed the pay - you couldn’t risk the possibility of having your check being docked over something so trivial. 

You tap your hands along the smooth material of the entrance, debating. 

“Just one more, that’s all. Then you can rest.”

Exhaling deeply, you lean in for a final time, stretching further in. The entrance walls dig uncomfortably into either side of your ribs, hiking up your work shirt. Abruptly, you find your weight leaning more onto your upper half, leaving you unbalanced - much quicker than you’d anticipated. 

Attempting to pull yourself back with the guidance of the entry point, you find yourself tilting further, having to support yourself reflexively, hands planted firmly on the cushy material - the plastic ball rolling farther in, engulfed entirely in the darkness. 

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. 

You try to breathe through your nose calmly. In. Out. In and out. 

This was no biggie; you’d just overestimated yourself, that’s all. There wasn’t exactly much to the hideout (according to what you were told), mainly occupied by plushies of varying sizes. Nothing more than a safe space. Without the lights on. The majority of the light had now been overshadowed by your shoulders and head, only just filtering through the sides of your neck. Sweat begins to collect in the middle of your hands, hot and balmy, and you opt for shifting your weight onto your knees, internalising thanking the management who gave the green light for the padding flooring; the plausibility of being stuck here longer than you believed, becoming a real possibility.

Pushing backwards, with more urgency this time, you allow your shoes to dig into the flooring, giving some leeway for space as you attempt to twist out of the small hole - you shoulders hunching up together uncomfortably, elbows unable to move, limited by the only space they’d been occupying prior.

Who exactly would still be here? As far as you knew, you were the only one on the said shift, on the said ground floor of the Complex. If anyone else was working this late, they’d at least be working within another sector of the building entirely. The only chance of another hired employee stumbling across you would be nothing more than a coincidence, and that was excluding the possibility of them not even being able to hear you behind the double-glazed glass.

Vanessa; she’d normally finish up around a quarter to midnight, after doing a patrol, both on the security cameras and on foot - and it was already well past the time you’d arrived here initially. Rolling your wrists, allowing a brief break from the strain, you conclude that the only real nearby available help, at the very least, were the animatronics themselves. Either one of the two - Sun or Moon. 

Sun, he was somewhat unnerving, his looming presence of being at least over 8ft tall did initially startle you. And was during the daytime shifts. Although he was mainly jovial, a natural part of his coding system - he was eager to please, eager to learn. Sweet in personality, overall. Moon, on the other hand - your constant fear of the dark did nothing to truly help your possible future interactions with him. You’d only briefly encountered him once, hiding away in the shadows on the ceiling, suspended by wires and bolts. He seemed nice (you hoped at least), you had no real reason to make any judgement but - he was absolutely fucking terrifying in the dark. 

Sucking up your pride (the urge to remain quiet and pretend you’d never even involved yourself in such a stupid situation for a first time shift), you weakly call out, almost sheepish.

“Is, uh, is anyone back there? Hello?” Panic begins to creep into your voice, growing louder in volume. You were becoming increasingly aware of time, knowing that at every even hour, the power breakers would switch off. “Hello? If anyone can hear me, at least, could you help me, please? Hello?”

Nothing. Fuckfuckfuck.

You were okay, you were going to be okay - this was nothing more than a slight blip, a hold up.

Yet, the passing of time, from where you’d started your shift and had gotten stuck, had begun to bleed into one. Every so often, your eyes would drift, just about on the cusp of sleep. You were okay. It was just dark, nothing more, nothing less. The shadows in the corners luckily left nothing to the imagination, engulfing the majority of the given space into one black mass. 

Blinking, you hear the faint whirring of fans and the heavy padding of feet somewhere within the Center. It’s dull, repetitive, a sleep-addled brain unsure of whereabouts it was coming from entirely - but you opt, albeit sleepily, to call out once more.

“Hello?” It’s slurred, weak. “Is… that you, Sun? M’stuck. I don’t… I can’t get out. Could, could you help me, please?”

“Ah! Hello! You’re the pretty new assistant, aren’t you, sunshine? Of course I can help you, silly! Sillysillysilly. It’s what I’m here for.”

Cylindrical fingers, soft and padded, tentatively grasp around your waist. And yet, it’s only until Sun allows his palms to rest on your hips, you acknowledge just how large his hands truly are. Dear God. Each of his fingertips meet across your lower stomach, thumbs kneading your lower back reassuringly - palms large enough to encompass your stomach entirely. 

You were finally going to get out. To go home, brush off the simple mistake and get a much needed sleep.

In spite of the short relief at the thought of being freed, Sun’s fingers skim over the bottom of your work shirt, flicking up the fabric, curiously. His fingers, although coated in a plushy silicone material (for the benefit of preventing accidents), are cool to the touch, not too warm, but not too uncomfortable either to squirm away. 

Still, the animatronic had still made no inclination to pull you out as of yet.

It could be that he was just surveying the situation, that’s all. Looking for the easiest way to pull you out without allowing you to be harmed, is what you tell yourself silently.

Sun’s hands still linger. They trail lower and lower, curling around the belt hoops of your slacks, tugging at the fabric.

“Suh- Sun? Is everything okay back there? You… You haven’t pulled me out yet?” The longer the silence draws out in response to your question, the more the growing unease settles heavily in your stomach. 

Why hadn’t he pulled you out yet?

“You’re so soft, fragile. Plush - compared to me. Sososososo small! Little thing. Pretty sweet thing. All for me.” 

“What?”

“Tiny and pretty, so small in my hands. Well-behaved.”

“Sun, I’d like for you to get me out now… Please? If that’s alright? I need to get home-” You’re more alert now. You don’t like the dark.

He hushes you softly, accompanied by the humming of his sun rays most likely rotating, “Shh. None of that now, sunshine. We don’t talk in our outdoor voices, do we? No; nononono we don’t. That’s naughty. Indoor voices only. Only.”

It’s phrased as a command, rather than as a question - with no room for argument.

Panicking, noticing his presence more closer to you than you anticipated, you struggle in his hold, legs kicking and thrashing about. You needed to leave. Get out of whatever this fucking was. You wanted to go home.

A palm jolts away from your waist, firmly encasing your ankle.

“Sunshine.” You halt in your movements, his voice taking on a deeper tone, breaking with static. “That, that, wasn’t very nice. Was it?”

A meek ‘no’ slips out before you could stop yourself. You couldn’t see - at all. To some extent, you were grateful for it, not being able to see the permanent drawn up smile positioned from cheek to cheek behind you, milky white eyes, too big in proportion to be considered something wholly human, but human enough to recognise the sentiment of certain emotions flitting through his optics. 

You couldn’t see - but you could feel him. Behind you. Looming. 

“I won’t ask you again.” A threat. You consider briefly fighting back - but what good would that do, truly? You were limited by your humanity, and him, it, whatever this was, was beyond that of a human. The bruising hold Sun had left on your legs would no doubt leave marks for days at most.

Sun supplies no response in return to the slight whimper you let out, instead, continuing on, his hands returning to where they originally had settled - metallic thumbs hooking around belt hoops once more, and shimmying your work slacks downwards. Fine hairs across the expanse of your thighs instinctively raise upwards at the sensation of cool air hitting your skin. 

He was far from gentle.

He’s humming now, a tune you can’t say you’re too familiar with, and proceeds to trail his fingertips over the bare skin, up towards your underwear, rubbing over the outline of your sex. As if he was studying it, acquainting himself with your anatomy. 

“Sososososo soft. Delicate. Made for me. A toy.” The last part glitches out, nothing more than an electric warble.

Hooking around the material of your underwear, the fabric strains from the force, sex now bare, embarrasingly so, and Sun, Sun, is nothing near to gentle. Mechanical hands follow around the surface of your rim, feeling across the muscle for a moment or two, before forcefully breaching in, dry and cold. It hurts. It fucking hurts. There’s no room to breathe, letting out a choked gasp of air, as his fingers bear down deeper and deeper, curling and rotating, searching. 

Biting down harshly on your forearm, compelling yourself to avoid honing in on the burning pain, Sun carries on, almost jovially, twisting and spreading his two forefingers apart in a scissoring motion.

It hurts. It hurts and hurts and hurts.

“So warm, wet! All for me. Pretty and warm and lovely and-”

Unable to hold back the drawn out whine, bubbling in your throat, you just about hear the whirring and whooshing of a contraption sliding open, accompanied by a slight hhhhhssssh! and a thick, silicone textured tendril, sloppy and coated in an unknown liquid, brushes up against the fat of your thighs.

It feels like forever and an eternity.

“Wanna fill you up, sunshine, breed and breed, fillfillfill and fill you up just right! A gorgeous, little dolly just for me. For us. Love you, always - always loved you. Watched you, sunshine; talking with the parents, guiding the children if they needed help. Sosososo helpful, so sweet. Good little service worker. Servicing me. Us.”

You wait for him to stop. For it to end.

And yet he doesn’t stop. It doesn’t stop. Sun continues to spill and spill and spill himself into you, thick and searing hot, whining helplessly; your stomach beginning to paunch from the volume, settling heavily in your tummy.

Unbearably warm and syrupy, you cringe at the feeling of the liquid seeping between your thighs, starting to cool and stick from the cold air. 

Eyes glossy, you barely notice the feeling of him guiding himself back out, a slight surge of liquid landing on the padded flooring with a wet squelch! in doing so. You can faintly hear the rustling of fabric behind you - Sun casually tucking himself back into his loose fitting pants, but you’re all too oblivious to the chilled sensation of neon marker pens gliding across your heated skin - crudely drawn arrows all directed towards a specific spot.

You hardly take note of the said warmth of his presence leaving you, overstimulated and fucked dumb from the varying sensations - time once again passing. Merging into one and all the same. Joined by nothing but the darkness, you sag, mumbling weakly for ‘help’. You weren’t entirely sure if help would even reach you at this point - if anything, it was more for your own comfort, knowing at least you could hear your own voice, grounding yourself.

Until there’s a slight chiming of high pitched bells, jingling.

The strain in your neck, slack and weak, pulled forwards from gravity, becomes too much to handle, and you glance upwards, only to directly look onto two pin prick dots - a vibrant red, peering back at you from the darkness. You just wanted to go home. 

Sniffling, you writhe, hastily urging yourself to get out, your shoulders burning from the movement.

“I can’t, I can’t. Please, I won’t tell anyone, I promise - just, please… Please help me get out of here. It hurts.”

The bells jingle in tandem, Moon crawling on all fours towards you from the shadows, and he coos. He fucking coos.

“Shh. Shhhhhh. Sun didn’t take care of you, did he? Left you messy. Messymessymessy indeed. And, you will go home, little one.” A smooth thumb rubs over your bottom lip, his faceplate unbearably close to yours, smiling. “Soon. Soon. Your words don’t match the sign left on your back. Not at all. You’ll go home when we’re finished. We’re not done yet.”

You make an attempt to respond, only to gurgle instead; Moon drives his forefingers into your mouth, as if aiming to reach your uvula, until you ultimately gag on reflex, drenching the digits in saliva. 

As he draws his fingers from within your mouth, you immediately hunch over, coughing harshly, eyes blurred - your workplace badge, brightly coloured, now discarded onto the floor with an annoyingly chipper motto of ‘Hi, how may I help you?” with a neatly printed smiley face.

[syllvane]

she’s a rainbow- natasha romanoff x reader

a/n: this was loosely requested by anon, inspired by a song of the same name

The first time you see her, she is dressed in blue.

You’re at one of Tony’s parties- and you don’t want to be there, you’d rather be anywhere else in the world in fact, but you work for Tony and more than that, you’re worried for him.

Though you both had worked closely on things regarding the Iron Man suit, he had been pulling away from you without any explanation as to why. The closest that you had gotten to an explanation was whenever he got drunk and started mumbling about a new energy source or something.

You stood in the corner of the party, nursing a drink as the lights flashed and the music played loudly, so loud that you could barely hear yourself think over the music, much less have a conversation.

You made your way outside of the house and even there, a small part of the party seemed to have spilled out of the house and you weren’t able to find the peace and quiet that you were looking for.

Someone touched your arm gently and you spun around, not knowing who to expect, though it certainly wasn’t her.

She had long, dark red hair and she was wearing a beautiful midnight blue dress to match, her hair done in curls.

You didn’t believe in love at first sight but looking at her, you thought that maybe you had been wrong.

“Oh, I’m so sorry- I thought you were someone else,” She said, smiling sheepishly. “What’s your name?”

You told her your name, momentarily losing your train of thought.

“What about you? What’s your name?”

“Natalie Rushman- I’m Ms. Pott’s personal assistant at Stark Industries,” She smiled, extending her hand out.

You extended your own, taking her hand and shaking it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Natalie- and welcome to Stark Industries.”

Were the two of you technically coworkers? If you dated each other, would you have to tell HR about it?

“So, what do you do? Famous model, actress?” She suggested and you laughed slightly.

“Now you’re just flattering me, I mean if anyone’s the model here, it’s you. I just work with Tony on the Iron Man project and things of that nature.”

Her eyes went wide as if she was more impressed by that than any of the things she mentioned before.

“Just? Don’t downplay how smart you have to be for that, humble isn’t a good look on you.”

“You’re right, I guess… just a force of habit.”

She smiled softly.

“It must be a strange work environment if he’s always this… impulsive.”

You glanced back towards the inside of the house, seeing several models on each of Tony’s arms.

He was clearly drunk.

“He wasn’t… it’s been different these past couple of months. I don’t know, if Tony’s good at one thing besides engineering, it’s bottling up his feelings.”

She nodded intently, hanging onto every word that you were saying.

“I’m sorry. That must be tough for you.”

You sighed.

“It’s harder to see him like this than it is when he ices me out.”

She opened her mouth to speak but before she could, Tony stumbled out of the doors.

“There you are, Natalie- come back in and enjoy the party!” He beckoned before being pulled back inside.

Natalie looked at you apologetically.

“I should… it was nice talking to you though, really,” She said, giving you a small smile before she entered the house once again.

As you would later learn, that was the only honest thing that she told you that entire conversation.

The crowd roared as she entered the home and she did not look back at you once.

The next time you see her, she is dressed in black.

All pretense of meekness was gone and what was left was a woman with the same red curls as before, her midnight blue dress traded in for a black jumpsuit with long sleeves.

She is sitting on Tony’s front porch step and given the way her eyes are following you as you made your way up the drive, you guessed that it was you who she wanted to talk to.

“You lied to me,” You said, almost wincing at how childish your accusation sounded- of course she had lied to you, that was her job.

She was a spy, she didn’t owe you an explanation or an apology.

“I’m sorry,” She said, her words careful. “If it was up to me, I wouldn’t have.”

You don’t believe her.

“Why are you even here, Natalie? I-”

“It’s Natasha,” She corrected and you didn’t say anything for a couple of moments.

You truly knew nothing about her and more than that, you trusted nothing about her. After all, what was stopping her from lying about being named ‘Natasha’ as well?

“As for why I’m doing this… I don’t know. I didn’t want you to think that it was all fake, I guess.”

You crossed your arms.

“So what was real then?”

Another pause.

"I really did like you,” She said softly and even though you desperately wanted to be angry at her, you couldn’t help but melt slightly. “And you are too good for him.”

“We’re not…” You took a step back from her as if she had just slapped you. “Are you just trying to manipulate me into joining SHIELD?”

She blinked, as if the thought had never even crossed her mind.

“What- no! I think you’d be a good fit for SHIELD, but I wasn’t…” She fell silent, studying you once again. “That’s all you think I am now, isn’t it? A spy.”

You shrugged helplessly, tears pricking your eyes.

“You haven’t given me much else to go on.”

“Forget it. Just… go back to someone who completely undervalues the work that you do and just forget that I exist. I’ll do the same for you.”

She stormed off without saying anything else, getting into a black unmarked car and driving off.

When you see her again, her hair is shorter and although you aren’t positive, you think you’re on a plane.

You also have the worst headache of your entire life and vague memories of the past couple of days, all of which seem to be tinted in blue.

“I liked your long hair better,” You mumbled and she rolled her eyes, though a small smile appeared on her face.

“You didn’t take my advice about forgetting me.”

“Can you blame me?” You said before you winced, your head throbbing. “What happened? I remember… a portal opened, I think. And some guy… walked out. The rest is fuzzy.”

“That guy… Loki… he mind-controlled you. A bunch of people, actually.”

“Wait,” You sat up straight, causing a wave of dizziness to rush over you. “Loki, as in Norse mythology Loki? That Loki?”

“Yes.”

You sat there for a second, thinking.

“Hm. That’s interesting.”

She blinked.

“You’re handling this surprisingly well.”

You shrugged slightly.

“I’m a scientist. It wouldn’t do me any good to ignore the evidence that’s been presented to me.”

She didn’t respond, handing you a cup with medicine in it.

“For your head,” She said and you nodded, looking at the pills before taking them with the water that was just off to the side. “I didn’t take my own advice either, you know. I didn’t forget about you.”

You stayed silent for a couple of seconds.

“Why not?”

“I already told you, didn’t I? I really did like you,” She said, not meeting your eyes.

“I liked you too. But I don’t… I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

She thought about this for a minute.

“What are you doing Thursday night?”

“If the world hasn’t ended by then? Probably going back to work.”

“Have dinner with me. I might not even make it out of this alive, but-”

“Yes.”

A small smirk appeared on her face.

“That didn’t take long.”

“Oh shut up,” You said, a small smile on your face. “Don’t you have a city to save?”

She glanced towards the door before looking back at you.

“I suppose I do. I’ll see you on the other side?”

“I hope so,” You said softly and she smiled before walking out of the room you were recovering in.

The next time you see her is on Thursday, outside of the address that she texted you.

You are nearly twenty minutes late because of all the damage that had been done during the Battle of New York, but when you arrive, she is standing there in a pale gold dress, her hair curled and styled like she just walked out of the 1920s.

You are rendered speechless by her beauty and she just looked at you and smirked.

“Something catch your attention?” She asked innocently and you rolled your eyes, though you felt heat rise to your cheeks. She offered you her hand and you took it. “I feel the same way about you, you know. You take my breath away.”

The two of you walked into the restaurant together, hand in hand and as certain as you had once been that there would be no relationship between you and Natasha, you found your own doubts about your relationship with her slowly slipping away.

And they continue to slip away.

Her dress is emerald green when she tells you about her adopted family, about Ohio and about Yelena, and it’s silver like moonlight when she stands up on her tiptoes to kiss you on the doorstep of your apartment.

It’s sky blue when she introduces you to the rest of the Avengers as her girlfriend and it’s a black, oversized hoodie when she first tells you that she loves you, laying next to you on the couch, half-asleep and fighting off a cold.

(You say it back, but she’s already fallen back asleep. You don’t worry though, because you know that you have all the time in the world to say it.)

Her dress is white when the two of you finally get married and her hair is longer, curled like it was the night you first met.

Tony is drunk again and is taking credit for your love story in his toast, but you don’t care, not as long as you’re with her.

You can face anything, you think, as long as you’re with her.