#like there is no point to it because i love writing i really do

[neil-gaiman]

hi,

i’d like to say thank you for what you share on this platform; ofc the lovely fan interactions, but also the ‘the world is scary but we’re in this together’ things and the ‘there’s still a lot of good in the world’ things.

i’ve been meaning to go to the grocery store for several days and hadn’t managed to get myself to do so yet. ive been ordering a few things to my apartment which is tend to get in my head about because the grocery store is less than a block from my home. i’m having a lot of trouble eating again, regardless of what’s in the fridge, and expected this morning to be like any other where at some point hunger will turn into nausea which will get pushed to the back of my mind until mid day when i can maybe manage to get something down.

but i woke up this morning to your reblog of that post about all the things you can eat if you’ve got just a couple things lying around.

and then i got up and took my meds. i showered and shaved and felt like i was scrubbing away the outermost layer of this particular Depressive episode. i brushed my teeth and washed my face, put on clothes that aren’t the gym shorts and tee i expected to. i’m about to leave my apartment for the first time in three days. i’m about to go to the grocery store.

i know it’s not your original post, but you saw it and reblogged it for it to reach a greater audience. i don’t think i would’ve seen it had you not done so.

okay i’ve gotta quit writing and get my shoes on and be off (to the store! woo!!)

you put a lot of good in the world and in so many big ways. thank you for adding to the good in the seemingly smaller ways too <3

I'm really proud of you.

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell (9)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, pining

a/n: Thank you so much for sticking around. I had to reread this entire series to write this part and it made me remember how much I love sharing it with you all ♡ Italics indicate memories (oooooo👀).

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

One of the many downsides to losing your memory was your lack of card game knowledge. An inconsequential tidbit when you took a step back and evaluated the hardships that plagued you, but a fact that was currently causing you a massive headache and a massive loss, all the same. 

“This is just completely unfair,” you huffed, tossing your cards on the table and leaning back in your chair. “I can barely even remember what you said the rules were.” 

“Hardly my fault, sweetheart. I gave you a run down before we started,” Cassian slyly grinned. 

You scoffed. “There were over fifteen steps to this game! And I feel like you made up half of them!” 

“While that would definitely be something he’d pull,” Mor piped in, an accusatory glance in Cassian’s direction. “He’s innocent, this time. This is just a really complicated game.” 

“Oh yeah, great. Make the amnesiac play the complicated game so she’ll lose. That's really classy, Cassian. Great sportsmanship.” 

Cassian had the gall to look offended, a hand placed at his heart. “You used to be great at this game, I’ll have you know. You won every time. We banned you, actually.” 

“You banned me from playing a card game?” 

Azriel, who had been fighting off a laugh with his tongue against his cheek, spoke up from beside you. “Very strictly banned, as well. For the last hundred years. You’re lucky we’re letting you play now.” 

Your mouth dropped open in the most wounded expression you could manage, mirth dancing in your eyes as you turned your head to catch the shadowsinger’s blush-tinted cheeks. 

Things were… good between the two of you. The same, but good, mostly because you had refrained from even alluding to his mate. When you didn’t talk about her, or look at anything that might have belonged to her, or question Azriel on the sadness in his eyes, he stayed glued to your side. It was a wonderful friendship the two of you were cultivating—one built on one-sided secrets where the answers were locked in your brain. 

“What could I have possibly done to get banned from a card game for a hundred years?” you gaped.

Azriel’s wings rustled behind him, unfurling to cloak your back in warmth. He laughed. “You cheat.” 

“I cheat?” 

“I wouldn’t call it cheating, exactly,” Mor defended, sliding her cards face-down on the table in favor of the snack plate in the center. “Not when it’s not your fault.” 

“Bullshit!” Cassian exclaimed, fist coming down in a loud bang. “She knows how to control her magic. She chooses to use it during the game and that makes it cheating.” 

Mor pointed an accusing finger in Azriel’s direction. “And what about his shadows, then? You’ve never had a problem with him playing, oh great game warden.” 

Cassian narrowed his eyes as if looking at Azriel for the first time. “Brother, you cheat as well?” 

In the most jovial tone you’d heard Azriel take, he refuted, “I absolutely do not.” 

That had spiraled into another argument you were not part of, and you took the opportunity to pick your cards back up and attempt to run through the rules again. It was a game of chance, really, but it was also a game of wit and that wasn’t your strongest suit at the moment. 

Maybe if you tried a little bit harder—

“Okay, your turn, y/n,” Azirel called you out of your fruitless thoughts. “Just try to pick one.” 

Your lips twisted to the side as you examined your cards and looked up at your opponent. Cassian appeared quite average, no shifting eyes or telling sighs. He was very good at this game, allegedly. 

You flicked your eyes back down to your cards, but, no—something didn’t feel right about that. 

You looked back up at Cassian, and something shifted. 

Something… seemed off. Like he was—

“You’re lying,” you stated as if it were a well-known fact. “You’re lying so hard right now. So that means I should take this and…” 

Your last words trailed off as you slapped a pair of cards on the table. You looked up to Cassian with a smug expression, the general narrowing his eyes and swiping his own cards aside. He scoffed, and then scoffed again, the second time paired with his arms across his chest. 

“Yeah? And how would you know?” he challenged. 

Your head jutted back in disbelief. You gazed around the table but none of your opponents offered the same look. “Are you kidding? It’s practically pouring off of you.” 

“What is?” Azriel softly asked. 

“His lie!” you exclaimed, hands raised in shock. 

“How so?” Mor posed. 

“All around him.” You shook your hand in the direction of the General, making some form of a circle. “He’s just a terrible liar and you can see it. I thought you all said he was undefeated?” 

“I was,” Cassian huffed out with a laugh. “Against everyone other than you.” 

His words sobered up your competitive mood, the rest of the table having come to a conclusion you only just realized. Azriel sat beside you with bated breath, tenseness apparent in the coil of his wings and shadows. Mor tried and failed to hide her smile behind her lips. Cassian didn’t even attempt to hide; his smile was vibrant without a hint of defeat. 

“Does this mean—” 

“Yes!” Mor gave a small cheer. “Something is happening in that beautiful brain of yours and you’re coming back to us!”

Coming back to them. 

As if you weren’t sitting right there. 

“We should ask her questions,” Cassian boomed with another laugh. “See what else is in there.” 

“Oh! We should. Think of something, Cass.” 

“What about…” 

The air around you felt suffocating as those at the table began talking as if you weren’t there. Any joy you felt at the revelation was washed, evaporated—creating a somber resolve that made your skin feel dull. 

“Maybe ask her things associated with her magic. Maybe that’s coming through first,” Mor offered. Walnut shells and wine glasses lay empty and scattered beside discarded cards. 

“I don’t think—” Azriel’s response was muted by a buzzing in your ears. 

It would never be enough. You were a full person sitting before them, but you weren’t. You weren’t the person they expected—not the person they wanted. You had been stuck in this limbo for weeks now, living under pitying eyes and hopeful half-smiles that never met their eyes. Secrets were kept because they hoped you—the real you—would eventually return and save them from sharing the hard things. 

You blinked away the dryness in your eyes. 

“We should get Rhys. He might find an opening now that her magic is—” 

“I’m right here,” you interrupted, the gravel of your tone barely audible below Cassian’s excited tone. The table fell silent, anyway. “I don’t know why you all insist on speaking about me and not to me.” 

Mor’s voice was still light as she replied, “Y/n, we don’t mean—” 

“You don’t mean what?” you laughed, the sound bordering hysterical. You caught Azriel turning his head down towards you in your peripheral. You ignored it. “You don’t mean to make me feel like half a person? Like a ghost? Because I’m right here and I have been for weeks but you all are so concerned with what I’m going to be in some undetermined amount of time that you seem to forget I’m alive now.” 

Cassian’s lips parted to speak, but words continued to spill from your mouth. “I mean, I wasn’t even allowed to know about most of my life until recently. You all expect me to get better instantly, making decisions and keeping secrets as if this isn’t part of my life—as if when I get my memories back… if I get them back… all these weeks will just disappear.

“But I’ve been here,” you stressed. Your fingers were tingling and your neck felt hot. “I’ve been here and all of you—you all talk over my head. I finally get some semblance of myself back and all you can think about is what more I can do. You don’t care about me. You care about some version of me that I’ve never met.” 

You rose from the table, hands coming down harshly as you stood. Mor quickly mimicked your action, but you held a hand up, dismissing the person who had been your safe space at the start of this mess—at the start of your memory, really. 

“I need—I need,” you choked. Dim colors and minute vibrations emanated from each person in the room, making your head hurt as you looked at them. You didn’t have the capacity to analyze that development. “I need to be alone.” 

You heard yourself mutter an apology as you went, unsure what exactly it was for. Your feet stumbled out of the room, getting stuck in cracks and shuffling on marble flooring. A small prickle of embarrassment made you flinch as you went, but it was nothing compared to the harrowing emptiness that guided you out to the balcony. 

Maybe it would be better if you spent your time alone—at least until you got your memories back. You loved being around everyone, but even that was a half-truth. You hadn’t even met everyone that was supposed to be in your life.

Gripping the railing of the balcony, you sucked in a deep breath, greedy for any kind of reprieve. A soft wind met the heat of your cheeks, but it did little to soothe you. If you could just become who they wanted you to be… if you could just know everything they wanted you to know. 

Everything felt like too much. 

You had so little to go off of, but somehow that was to your detriment. 

You thought the first sign of your old self would have been a cause for celebration, but instead, it was only a call for more. More, more, more—you weren’t enough now. 

You heard your name in the wind, a soft sound that carried delicately past your ears. For reasons you could not place, the single word sent anger pulsing in your veins. 

You whipped around, unsurprised to see Azriel standing beneath the archway to the house, his expression unguarded and his shadows reaching and reaching and reaching towards you. 

He seemed to recoil at your furious gaze. 

“What?” you asked, still breathless from the way panic had taken control of your chest. “What, Azriel?” 

But words seemed to fail him as he stood there. He blinked more than necessary, shaking his head and then righting it, unsure of the direction he wanted to take. 

It infuriated you. 

“What could you have to say?” you instigated, and the harsh words made you sick. “You of all people treat me as a stranger. You say we’re close—that we are the closest of anyone—but you keep secrets, Azriel. You keep secrets and you make it impossible to get to know you. What happens if I never get my memory back, huh?”

The notion of that reality set the Shadowsinger into motion. “Don’t say that,” he almost begged, desperation lost behind gritted teeth. “We are still looking—” 

“Would it be that terrible for you? Truly, Azriel. You slink around me, afraid to share things I don’t even know are there! How am I—What am I supposed to do if this is just me now?” You tugged at your hair as frustration captured your voice. You hadn’t meant to say any of this, hadn’t planned on even hinting at your displeasure, but something snapped today. 

Something snapped and there was nothing you could do to cope with the breakage. Because you were a stranger to everyone—most of all yourself. 

“That won’t happen,” Azriel attempted to reassure, taking small steps towards your pacing figure. “We are going to figure this out and everything will be—” 

“It won’t!” 

You screamed. 

You hadn’t meant to. 

Azriel stopped in his tracks. 

“It won’t be fine, Azriel.” Back to a normal volume, your voice sounded hoarse. “I can’t keep living like this—like a ghost. It’s been weeks and there are no leads. All I have now is this hint of my powers that I’m not even sure how to parse out. They don’t make sense. None of this makes sense.” 

Your eyes were glued to your feet as Azriel’s words broke at the syllables. “I know.” 

“None of you will want me if I can’t be her.” 

“I will always want you,” he was quick to respond. 

When you raised your head, the stray tears held captive by your waterline fell. Azriel stared back at you in earnest but it felt incomplete. 

“You keep things from me still,” you said, words thick in your throat. “It’s like you’re waiting for her—for someone else. With Mor and them, it’s different. It feels different with you.”

Azriel whispered a broken rendition of your name. The color you saw reflecting from his shoulders was sharp against the backdrop of the dark house, and you had no idea its significance, but something within you told you it wasn’t going to get you what you so desperately wanted. 

“Stop,” you begged, chin wobbling. “Stop… formulating what you’re going to say to me. This is worse, now that I have my magic. I see your every indecision around me.” 

Azriel’s expression pinched and the color fizzled out as he stepped forward and held your face in his textured hands. Your anger dissipated as he titled your head up to meet his gaze, replaced by the uncertainty that often mingled with regret when he was near. 

What you were regretting, you didn’t know. 

“You are the one sure thing in my life,” he confessed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel this way—that we all have. I—I have been keeping something from you. I’ve been afraid it would be too much, that I would lose you if you knew. But I’m only losing you now.” 

You gave no reply, unblinking, short breaths escaping you. 

Azriel licked his lips and slid his hands down until his thumbs rested along your jaw. 

“You have asked about my mate.” Discomfort panged within your chest as he spoke, but you needed to hear this. Azriel closed his eyes for a pause, brows furrowed, before he met your eye once more. “It’s you.” 

Your shock came second to the blinding pain creeping up your neck. It fought with you, edging closer and closer to your brain before it fell behind your eyes and shattered all comprehensible thought. Another beat and hazel eyes were lost to darkness. 

You heard your name, felt your body go slack and arms brace your fall, but then there was laughing. You were laughing, but the sound wasn’t coming from your body. 

“We have to go back,” you heard yourself admonish in a breathless tone. “They’re all waiting for us.” 

“Let me be alone with my wife for a while longer.” 

Figures materialized in the dark space of your mind.

A purple dress. 

A ring around your finger. 

Flowers woven into the lapel of a jacket. 

“I have only been your wife for about….” you saw yourself gaze up to the ceiling of a room you did not recognize in feigned contemplation. “An hour?” 

Azriel bit back a grin and nuzzled his face into your neck. “But you have been my mate for my entire life.” 

“That’s not even true. It snapped a few months ago.”

You stood in the corner of the room as the scene unfolded, feeling like a stranger in some iteration of your life. You looked so at ease, wrapped up in the man who had caused you so much inner turmoil over the last few weeks. 

He had said you were mates. 

Was this…

“That’s not how mates work, my love,” Azriel hummed closing the distance between the skin of your cheek and his lips. “When we were created, we were created for each other. There has never been a time in my life that I did not belong to you.” 

You watched yourself smile—watched yourself curl your fingers in your mate’s hair and press your forehead to his. “Gods, you’re the biggest sap.” 

Azriel laughed. The sound was light and free and everything you had sought after these past few weeks. But you heard it here as he laid with you in his arms. 

“I can’t believe you married me,” he whispered, his nose brushing yours. 

“Of course I married you.” 

A pause. 

“Do you think you would have married me if things hadn’t worked out—after Day I mean.” 

From the corner of the room, you analyzed how your body seemed to recoil at the question. 

“Azriel, nothing could have kept me from you. Not even that monster from Day. If I hadn’t gotten my memory back—if I had to live with forgetting you—” Azriel shuddered, taking a long breath through his nose. You only brushed your fingers softly against his temple. “—I would have found you again. It probably would have been a pain in the ass to get me to listen but…” 

Azriel scoffed and pulled you closer. “You’re already a pain in my ass.” 

“That was the goal.” 

Another soft round of laughter. 

You felt like an intruder, flinching at the gleam of the ring on Azriel’s finger, hesitant to gaze around the room you had no recollection of. By the door, you could hear others in the hall. You made out Cassian and Mor’s voices, but others sparked no recognition within you. Curiosity pulled you in that direction, but before you could touch the doorknob, Azriel spoke again. 

“You wouldn’t have had to find me.” He paused. “I never would have left your side.”

And then the scream of your name woke you. 

[sturniolohouse]

That's Life - m.s.

A.N: After the stream where Matt said he liked the name June– which has been a name on my baby list for YEARS now – I couldn't stop thinking about this scenario, so I decided to write it. Sorry if it's bad. (I'd also say they are still very young in this, maybe 23/24. But imagine any age you want, I don't really specify.) Hope you enjoy!

summary: dad!matt - a cute snippet of Matt and y/n becoming brand new parents and Chris and Nick meeting their niece for the first time. mainly fluff :')

warnings: none, really. maybe swearing and mentions of blood? (also use of y/n because apparently that is hated? idk)

word count: 2.4k

--

"Kid, hold her fucking neck." Matt panics as Chris readjusts in his seat on the couch.

"Matt shut the fuck up, I think I know how to hold my own niece." he retorts.

"No, you clearly don't you idiot."

I peer to my left, he holds her with one hand under her head and one hand under her butt, propping her in front of him on his lap. She's perfectly fine, Matt just worries.

"Look she's fine. She's with uncle Chris." Chris looks at her adoringly but Matt cautiously watches, biting his nails.

"How are you feeling?" Nick asks beside me, rubbing my shoulder as I eat my burger. I was starving and the first thing I wanted after giving birth was In and Out, so Matt made sure Nick and Chris brought it for me.

"I'm so tired but just relieved everything went okay."

It was a long labor, almost 20 hours and about an hour of pushing. I waited to the very last minute to get an epidural and Matt almost passed out once he saw what it actually was.

-

"That goes in your fucking spine?" He squeaks, his face turning pale as he nearly keels over.

I'm sat up with the anesthesiologist behind me prepping the needle. I grab Matt's forearms and bring him to stand between my legs so he's hunching in front of me before I collapse my head into his chest and groan.

"Don't fucking look at it, hold my hands." I seethe through the pain as I wait for the contraction to pass.

"I'm so sorry," He says into my ear as they stick the catheter into my spine and I stay as still as possible.

"I want In and Out after this is all over," I breath out, beginning to feel my lower half go numb.

"I'm getting you whatever you fucking want, sweetheart." He looks me dead in the eyes.

-

"It's kinda fucking nuts that she was just inside you, how the fuck did you like..." Chris speaks up looking between the baby and me. "Push her out..." He hesitates and I burst out laughing as Matt throws his arms up and shakes his head at him, stopping himself from knocking Chris' shoulder.

"Well, it wasn't easy." I wipe my tears from my eyes due to my laughter and Nick gives me my water so I don't choke on my dry ass fries.

"Women are the strongest people on the planet." Nick chimes and Matt smiles proudly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's fucking right. So much respect after all I witnessed." Matt rubs his eyes, seeming to be mentally reflecting the past 36 hours.

"She's so fucking cute, looks nothing like Matt." Chris comments, a small smirk growing on his face at the playful jab.

"Okay, give her back you're pissing me off." Matt quickly but gently takes her back even as Chris protests and pouts, sulking back into his chair.

"Lost your baby holding privileges," Nick points at him as Chris makes a face and sticks his tongue out, a throaty bellow echoing in the hospital room.

Nick immediately hushes him. "Can you not act like a barbarian? Fucking idiot." He scolds him.

Matt cradles her softly and my heart still melts at the sight of him holding her. It makes everything I went through so worth it. The both of them do.

-

I lay there in shock with a wailing baby placed on my chest. I look up at Matt on my left and he's got his hand over his mouth and tears brimming his eyes, staring at our baby with so much love.

My chest blooms with warmth and I look down at our daughter. Anyone else would look at her and think she was gross, being purple, covered in goop and blood, but she was quite literally breathtaking. Matt blubbers and bends down so he's more level to me.

"Oh my fucking god," he laughs through his emotion, wiping his eyes quickly and placing a hand on her blanketed back, her cries dying down.

"How the fuck did you do that? You're amazing oh my god." He rambles, kissing my sweaty hairline and I shake my head not really knowing how I did this either.

They let Matt cut the umbilical cord before taking her off me to bathe her quickly.

Matt grabs my face checking in on me. He scans all over my face,"You okay? You did so good, oh my fucking god." I nod quickly, feeling my adrenaline still rushing. It's a weird feeling to describe, but I am so happy.

"She was so tiny, did you see her?" I ask him, my voice a little shaky and he nods laughing, tears still shining in his eyes.

"I did, I did. She's perfect. Thank you." He kisses my lips this time and then looks over to the nurses bringing her over to him.

"You want to hold her, dad?" The nurse smiles and he visibly pales but nods nonetheless and takes her into his arms.

He looks at her and begins to tear up again, having to compose himself by looking up shaking his head. When he looks back at me, I'm sent me over the edge into my own fit of tears.

I would relive this day over and over again to just see that look on his face.

-

He walks over to Nick who's still beside me, bouncing her slightly.

"Nick, cmon. You've yet to hold her." Matt nods toward Nick to take her from his arms. Nick immediately shakes his head and steps back.

"No she's too fresh and tiny. I don't want to break her." He declines.

"Chris get him the pillow. Nick, hold her. You won't break her I promise you." I give him a reassuring rub on the arm and his eyes widen.

"I'm scared," He squeals quietly as he sits down in the chair and Chris sets up the pillow in his lap. Nick covers his mouth as he watches Matt walk over to him. 

Chris puts a hand on his shoulder, "Nick it's gonna be fine." He giggles at his antics and I stifle my own laughter.

"Dude c'mon, I'm telling you to hold my kid not a bomb." Matt rolls his eyes and Nick flips him off.

Matt places her carefully so she's snug in Nick's arms and he freezes immediately.

"What do I do?" He looks up at me in fear.

"Just that. You're doing fine. See, she's perfectly content in your arms." I tell him softly and grab Matt's arm so he stands next to me.

I kiss his forearm and he looks back at me with a warm smile, wrapping his arm around me and sitting beside me on the bed. He pulls me in gently before kissing the top of my head.

"I'm trying to see any real defining features in her but she quite literally just looks like a baby," he studies her face as Chris takes photos of them.

"She definitely looks more like y/n," Matt says, rubbing my arm lightly before stealing one of my fries from my tray.

"I think she has my nose for sure. She hasn't really opened her eyes yet, maybe you can try and wake her up. The nurse should be coming soon to help me feed her."

"I just realized, what's her name?" Nick asks, lightly rubbing her cheek with the back of his finger to try and wake her.

"Yeah, have you guys finally decided?" Chris sits down next to Nick on the couch.

Matt and I look at each other. We had been debating her name since we first saw her face. Of course we had a list prepared but we didn't want to settle on a name until we could match it to her face.

It was hard agreeing on names at first as we had very different tastes but there was one that kept coming back up in conversation and once we saw her it was a no brainer.

I nudge Matt, "Go ahead, tell them." I lean my head against his shoulder.

"Her name is June," They 'aw' in unison.

"June Iris Sturniolo." Matt tells them her full name and he can't help the smile that spreads across his face. 

"I love that, such a sweet name.” Nick smiles down at her.

"Does it have a meaning? Or did you guys just like the name?" Chris pulls back her hat.

"Holy shit, she has a lot of hair." he comments.

"Explains all of my heartburn." I huff and Matt giggles beside me.

"We liked the name and we were looking at lot of nature names, month names, classic names. We landed on June a few times when going over names but didn't want to make it official until we saw her." I start and Matt nods before speaking up.

"Well, we had some music playing during the whole labor and everything but after Y/N started pushing, our playlist ended and started playing whatever. And right before June came out, the song That's Life by Frank Sinatra played. And in the song, there's a line that goes: You're riding high in April, shot down in May but I know I'm gonna change that tune when I'm back on top, back on top in June. Right when we heard that and then we saw her face, we knew that was her name." Matt concluded and I tear up.

"That's so fucking cool," 

"Stop I have chills, oh my god."

"And Iris was my grandmothers name, but we also liked how it sounded with June. It was proven really hard to find a middle name that sounded good with June and Sturniolo." I laugh.

“I love that her name has a cool story behind it that you can tell her one day.” Nick says and I get emotional thinking about telling my daughter the day of her birth.

"Hi June, you gonna wake up for us?" Chris speaks softly to her. She stays put as Nick and Chris look at her expectantly.

"I wouldn't want to open my eyes either if I were just in a a warm dark place for almost nine months and all of sudden I'm in a bright ass hospital room with a loud idiot." Matt speaks looking directly at Chris.

"She must take that after you," I say playfully and rub his chest. He rolls his eyes.

"Aw, a little Mattitude." Chris uses a baby voice, tickling her belly playfully. “Look she even makes Matt’s stank face he does when he’s mad.” He points.

“Oh my god she does,” Nick exclaims.

"Not to be weird, but you are all basically her father since you have identical DNA. Also if you guys have children one day, they'll be genetically June's half-siblings." I state my fun fact and all their faces drop.

Nick gasps, "Wait, that's actually crazy because I was just going to joke around and say 'aw she has my eye-bags'." His eyes widen and I shrug at him proving my point.

"That's so fucking weird." Matt shakes his head in realization.

Chris acts repulsed, putting a hand up. "Yeah, I don't like thinking about that. I'm no one's father, thank God." He does the sign of the cross.

"Yes. Thank God for that." Matt says shortly.

"I don't know, I think Chris will be a good dad one day." I defend him and Matt gives the side eye. 

"Thank you y/n," He says with a hand over his heart.

He walks over to me and gives me a side hug. I kiss his cheek, offering him a fry and he takes it appreciatively.

"I'm definitely staying the fun uncle." Nick states, turning his attention back to June. "One day, you'll be big enough to stay at Uncle Nick's and I'll get you anything you want without your parents knowing," he says quietly to her but we can all still hear him.

She begins to stir in his arms and he freezes again.

"Oh no, she's waking up. Is she gonna cry?" he panics. "Matt quick, take her."

"She might want the boob," he says taking June out of Nick's hold.

She begins to fuss and squirm but Matt calmly shushes her and begins to bounce lightly.

"It's her feeding time in 15 minutes, should I try without the nurse?" I look up at Matt and he shrugs.

"I don't see why not. She's clearly hungry now."

"Uh, should we leave?" Chris says awkwardly and I wave him off.

"I'm gonna cover myself don't worry. Unless you want to leave," I say nonchalantly, not having a care in the world after just about everyone in this hospital has seen me naked. But of course I won't be flashing anyone.

"Junie don't cry, here's mama. She's got the food." Matt tells her quietly, bringing her to me as Chris clears my lap for me and goes to sit down next to Nick again.

"My baby," I pout as I grab her and her little cries die down once she's in my arms. "You already know the deal sister, let's see if we can do this." I talk to her confidently hoping I can do this on my own.

Matt stands beside helping me cover up and get June in the right position.

"There you go, all better." Matt speaks to her softly as she latches on and I exhale in relief. "Good job, mama." He runs his fingers through my hair and rubs my neck.

The nurse walks in mid-feed and praises me. "Looks like you've got it under control here." She smiles and checks my vitals quickly before stepping back out of the room.

Once June finishes eating I burp her upright on my lap, facing her towards everyone. At this point she's wide awake and everyone is staring at her.

"Oh my gosh, her eyes are like, gray," Nick says. 

"Can she see me?" Chris waves at her, shaking his head and sticking his tongue out.

"Her eyes will most likely change color, they can change up until she's a year." I tell them. "And she can probably see you as a blob, Chris. Stop dancing." I tell him and he stops mid griddy. 

"Oh..." He looks defeated and she burps loudly in that moment, making him laugh. "Why does she burp louder than me, she's like 12 hours old." he jokes.

I feel Matt's hand on my shoulder again and he gives me another squeeze. I look up at him and smile tiredly, he leans down to give me a kiss. Something we rarely do in front of others because we hate PDA. But we can't help it this time.

 I hear a snap of a camera and we both look to see Nick with his film camera.

"I couldn't resist. First family portrait." he smiles softly. "I can't believe you're a father, Matthew."

"Believe it, kid."

"Nick, will you actually take our family photos when we get home." I ask rubbing Junie's back. 

"The fact that you even asked that," he says looking offended and everyone laughs. "Of course I will, though."

[reallyromealone]

This doesn't have to be a request if you don't want to write it. But can you imagine what it would be like to be the boyfriend in a poly relationship with Zoro and Sanji? Like Zoro focuses more on his swords, drinking, and napping. But Sanji focuses on women, cooking, and smoking. I'd feel so bad because while you love them both, you just don't feel like they actually love you as much.

Sorry for that. I just saw a angsty headcannon on pinterest and my heart just broke. Also how is Lily???? We miss seeing her so much

Title: endings

Fandom: one piece

Characters: strawhat crew

Fic type: angst

Pairings: Zoro x reader x Sanji

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, angst, gay

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Name) Loved his boyfriends.

He really did.

But... He often felt that they didn't love him as much.

Zoro was always out drinking or napping or showing more love to swords than his partners... Always blowing off (name)s ideas for dates or dinners or anything that he didn't want to do even slightly.

Want to go for a walk? Nah, rather nap.

Want to go to dinner at a nice restaurant? Nah rather get drunk with friends.

And then there was Sanji.

Flirting with women, cooking to the point of obsession and even snapping at (name) for entering his kitchen and a nicotine addiction that made him worry.

He had shitty boyfriends.

He was aware.

And so was everyone, seeing as Nami let Sanji flirt with her and buy her things.

What a traitor or was she ever on his side?

He was an outsider in his own relationship, unsure what to do.

But he believed he had an answer to it all and he hated it.

(Name) Walked to deck where he saw his boyfriends drinking and partying with the others, staring at Sanji chatting up the girls and Zoro absolutely tanked, eyes growing empty and distant at the sight.

It was usopp who noticed (name) first and went up to him "you alright?" He asked the other who slowly stared at the black haired man "I'm fine... I just realized I have something to do"

(Name) Took a quill and some parchment and wrote up his breakup letter before placing it on Sanji's bed, knowing he was more likely to read it before grabbing his bag and belongings.

A quick conversation with Luffy and a mournful goodbye from him and (name) left the ship, the captain understanding why he needed time to himself and to think things over, giving him a compass as a parting gift.

(Name) Didn't know how they would react or if they cared but he knew this was what he needed to do.

And hopefully he would come out happier.

[llamagoddessofficial]

📚 pretty please?

I shan't give too many details about this one, because I am pretty dedicated to writing it at this point - but Farmtale Sans is on the cards. Here's a teeny extract from the first chapter I've written out.

---

You sat down at the kitchen table. The chairs smelt of wood varnish. You had no idea what you were going to do for food, the last store you recalled passing on the way here felt like hours ago. You had no heating, no lights. No gas. Almost definitely no hot water. 

You felt like just laying down on the floor and crying forever. 

A knock on the front door. 

You jumped out of your fucking skin. Someone was at the door? Suddenly, a bunch of horrible thoughts started racing through your head. Did you get the wrong house? Was the will wrong? Did the key just happen to fit? Is this someone’s home, and you just came in, kicked their carpet and sat at their table? You scrabbled over to the door, rattling the handle and eventually shoving it open. 

... A massive, lanky skeleton monster stood before you. 

“HELLO THERE!” He spoke extremely cheerfully, but in a volume that made you startle. He was wearing dark blue overalls, heavy black rubber boots, and an orange gingham-patterned top. “WHY, IT’S LOVELY TO FINALLY MEET YOU! I’M PAPYRUS, YOUR NEW NEIGHBOUR!”

He stuck out a huge hand, covered by a garden glove. 

You stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, blinking up at the skeleton. He was... how did he get here so fast? Eventually you snapped yourself out of your rude gawking and took his hand, shaking cautiously.

“... Neighbour?” you managed to say. But there weren’t any houses around for what felt like miles...?

He nodded enthusiastically. “MY BROTHER AND I OWN THE FARM JUST OUTSIDE OF THE TOWN. WE’RE A HALF HOUR DRIVE AWAY.”

You paused. “You came out all that way, just to greet me?”

He seemed confused, for a moment, but quickly smiled again, even breaking into chuckles. “OH! YOU MUST BE FROM THE CITY, RIGHT? NYEHEHEH, YOU MUST THINK HALF AN HOUR IS A LONG DRIVE! NYEHEHEHE!”

... What a strange feeling. You’d never before met someone who could laugh right at you, yet not feel malicious at all. He still made you feel like he was laughing with you. Papyrus’ smile reached his eyes (eyesockets?) so much that he had smile lines in the bone.

You smiled yourself, a little. “Y-yeah, I guess I do think that’s a long way. I’m (y/n). How did you know I’d arrived?”

“TORIEL HAS BEEN LOOKING AFTER THIS HOUSE FOR A FEW YEARS. WHEN I HEARD IT WAS FINALLY GOING TO BE PUT TO USE, I STARTED DRIVING PAST EVERY DAY, TO BE CERTAIN THAT AS SOON AS OUR NEW NEIGHBOUR MOVED IN I’D BE ABLE TO GREET THEM LIKE A PROPER NEIGHBOUR SHOULD.” He spoke so fast, but so confidently. “I’M SO GLAD I WAS ABLE TO MEET YOU BEFORE I REACHED ONE HUNDRED VISITS!”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed. “Th... thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“ANYWAY. NOW THAT I’VE INTRODUCED MYSELF, I MUST INSIST YOU JOIN US FOR DINNER!”

What? “Huh?”

“OF COURSE!” He nodded again, as if agreeing with himself. “IT IS NOT ONLY THE POLITE THING TO DO, BUT I HIGHLY DOUBT YOU HAVE IMMEDIATE DINNER PLANS THAT ARE HEALTHY OR NUTRITIOUS CONSIDERING YOUR LONG TRIP! I MUST INSIST THAT YOUR FIRST MEAL IN YOUR NEW COMMUNITY IS A GOOD ONE!”

... You could’ve cried. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be as nightmarish as you thought.

“I’d love to. But I’ve really got to unpack everything first, and clean this old place out. We could exchange phone numbers?”

“I’LL HELP YOU UNPACK!”

You stared incredulously at the monster before you. Was he real? “I-I,”

“I’LL CALL MY BROTHER. I CAN’T GUARANTEE HE’LL BE HERE BEFORE WE’RE FINISHED, THOUGH, HE’S SUCH A SLOWPOKE.”

[honeytonedhottie]

what i learned during my reflection period⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧖🏽‍♀️🎀

as you may or may not have noticed, i've been hiatus for most of the month now. and i disappeared because of personal reasons, and one of those reasons being that i felt i needed to reflect. here are some things that i've learned and realized during my reflection time.

this is quite personal to me, but i wanted to kind of have a heart to heart with you guys and im sure that someone is probably struggling with what i mention in this post so i hope this is comforting...💬🎀

WHY I FELT STUCK IN MY LOA JOURNEY ;

i was literally doing the most and it felt like such a chore at the time. i would force myself to affirm in ways that felt unnatural, i was letting myself get bullied by the 3D, even though i KNOW i dont have to do a thing. i was putting way too much effort in the wrong way.

WHAT'D I DO ABOUT IT ;

i took a step back and RELAXED. i did what felt natural again and enjoyed manifesting again and because of that i've had success story after success story...💬🎀

DOING A SELF AUDIT ;

i wanted to take a second and expose toxic behaviors and patterns that i noticed i exhibit and that have started to affect not only my physical but my mental in a very very negative way.

i'd been struggling with regulating my emotions and managing them so i was a walking ball of stress 💀. a beautiful ball of stress but stress nonetheless. i just felt so stuck.

WHAT'D I DO ABOUT IT ;

i went through the motions and after having a total meltdown and doing a bit of journalling i released everything, giving myself a completely clean slate once more.

i did a bit of a refresh and did miscellaneous things to make myself feel like im starting again. things like self concept work, changing the theme of my phone, taking an everything shower + bubble bath, having a pinterest makeover and getting a trim on my hair.

i forced myself to drink more water, and go for long walks not only to get some sunlight but to get my heart pumping and push myself out of the depressive rot that i had been in for months internally, but had pushed itself out as soon as summer started.

THE DEATH OF A SITUATIONSHIP ;

i got really attached to this boy 😭 but he was such a piece of work. like he did that hot and cold shit, but i rly rly liked him so i ignored the obvious red flags. but i got to a point where i just felt used and embarrassed. upon further reflection i think i didn't wanna let him go because he was so fine 💀, like 6'5 muscular kind of fine.

no matter how handsome a guy is if he has an ugly personality or if he just treats u badly then hes not fine at all...💬🎀

WHAT'D I DO ABOUT IT ;

i went no contact. thats like the easiest way to get over someone i think lol. i went no contact and i just manifested better things for myself. like being asked out by a bunch of guys and wingstop to comfort myself 🧋

also i focused on what i got out of the whole thing. i got the redirection that i wanted, PLUS i was filled with inspiration for my song writing.

SONG RECOMMENDATIONS ;

i want war (BUT I NEED PEACE) - kali uchis

eternal sunshine - jhene aiko

let you go - clara la san

needy - ariana grande

AT THE END OF THE DAY ;

i wanted to include this section as a reminder that everyone goes through shit. things happen. its okay to be affected by it and its okay to be sad. the most important thing is to not dwell on it too long. remember that you are not a victim and remember how amazing you are BECAUSE YOU ARE. you are amazing and no matter what happens, regardless of anything your gonna be okay and your gonna be in a much better place, it starts with putting one foot in front of the other...💬🎀 (love honey)

[gguk-n]

Can you please write second change romance with Lando where reader tells him "Love me. chose me. for once in your damned life, fight for me!"

Reader is working at sky sports as a journalist. I hope you like it. I hope I did it justice.

Track of the Heart

{Reader's POV}

I knew the world was a small place and some times you run into people you are actively trying to avoid. For me, that was Lando Norris.

We were both young and in love. He was my first serious adult relationship. I loved him deeply; if you asked drunk me, I'd probably say that I still love him. But that was the past. He broke up with me because his fans didn't like me. The hate had gotten to the point that I had stopped using my phone except to call or text my friends and family and Lando knew. I had told him through tears about all the mean things people said about me. Part of me hoped that he would tell them off for it but what I didn't expect was for him to disregard it and let it get so bad that even at races people would name call me, even in front of Lando and he would do nothing. It affected my health, my mental peace and my studies. So, I did what was best for me; walked away.

That was 3 years ago. Right now I was standing face to face with the man that broke my heart. I knew when I applied for a position at Sky Sports that I would run into Lando. Luckily, I had stayed clear of him for the year that I had interned there; by only going to cover other sports and minor leagues. Today, the team was short staffed, they needed someone to help make the scripts and organise the cue cards, so they brought along a couple new hires. I did everything in my power to evade the race because it would mean being stuck on an F1 venue for a whole weekend with my ex. My direct superior wouldn't listen to any of my crap, as he put it and told me to pack my stuff and to meet him at the venue.

So here I was, awkwardly standing, in front of the supposed love of my life. He looked shocked to see me before his eyes flickered to the Sky Sports entry pass, as if a switch flipped. He smiled and greeted; "You're finally a sports journalist, like you always wanted to be. Congratulations" he said while raising his hand to shake mine. Out of courtesy, I moved all the files in my hands to my left and shook his hand. "My colleagues were saying you had your maiden win this season, so Congratulations I guess." I retorted. I adjusted the files in my hands, almost dropping one, which Lando quickly caught with his hand. I thanked him and left to see the team with all my files.

{Lando's POV}

Her hands were still soft like I remembered them with a sweet tinge of vanilla, her favourite body lotion. She had coloured her hair recently and she looked so much more professional and put together then I remembered. I guess it comes with the job. Hearing her congratulate me felt like home even if it felt like it was laced with sarcasm, like the only thing that ever mattered. How did I even celebrate a race without her? She was still clumsy I thought as I caught the file she almost dropped. The weekend just got more eventful I thought as she walked away.

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

{Reader's POV}

If there is one thing I will advice you is that don't be a hard worker especially in a situation if it will land you working with your ex for the whole year. One of the members from the F1 team went on maternity leave and she spoke so highly of me that I ended up working on the races till she returned. Now to my horror, all the fans still remembered me. Even after 3 years, they did not hesitate to start up rumours about me and Lando being together and that we never really broke up and it was all a publicity stunt. I had to speak to my bosses to let them know that all of that was in the past and that I wasn't dating him anymore; they didn't care unless it affected my work.

Working at the paddock wasn't easy and Lando didn't make it any easier. He acted like a menace before and after interviews especially if I was around. Sometimes I wanted to strangle him.

{Lando's POV}

Being around her reminded me why I had fallen in love with her in the first place. She brought the idiotic side of me out. "Mate, you need to stop annoying Y/N. She'll strangle you one day." Carlos said while they were on the drivers parade. "She wouldn't. There's a reason she's tolerating me." I said. "Yeah, sky sports pays her to do her job." Carlos laughed. Part of me wanted to believe that she tolerated me because she still loved. But I knew that was selfish of me, since the reason we broke up lay heavily on me.

This made me want to be closer to her. I guess proximity made the heart softer. I found myself bringing her snacks or treats during her long days. Slowly but surely I found myself back in her arms. We didn't out right say it, but we were dating each other. She made the weekends even more enjoyable. It was exhilarating to be running around trying not to get caught; until we did get caught. It was like a switch flipped inside her and she stopped seeing me.

{Reader's POV}

The gifts and the sneaking away and having someone care for me got to me. Before I knew it I was back in Lando's arms. I knew getting back together with Lando was a bad idea. All my suspicions were confirmed when a picture of us leaving together from a club in Las Vegas made rounds. The hate was worse then before; it's like they forgot there was a person behind it all. I couldn't even shut off social media because of my work. I didn't want to be seen with him anymore; I was going to stop reporting for F1 and live my life covering other sports. Hopefully they didn't find me there. Lando was still persistent even after I had stopped talking to him and cut him off.

"Babe, you gotta stop running away from me." Lando spoke cornering me, out of breath from the running. "I have work to do, if you'll excuse me Mr Norris." I said. "Since, when was I Mr Norris?" He questioned. "Since a while, I never should've gotten back with you." I declared. "You don't mean that." Lando stammered. "Actually I do." saying that broke my heart because deep down I loved him but it didn't feel like he loved me. "But I love you. Don't you love me?" he asked. "It doesn't matter what I feel, when you'll never reciprocate it." I pointed out. "What do you mean?" he pleaded. "Lando, the exact reason we broke up was because you couldn't stick up for me. I knew you and yet I got myself involved in this." I sighed. "But, baby I need you." he voiced. I laughed, there were tears in my eyes, "Not enough to stick up for me." "What's gotten into you?" Lando probed. "Nothing's gotten into me, I should've stayed away from you. Your fans hate me, they always have. They want me fired; did you know that?" I asked. Lando was at a loss for words.

"You know when we broke up I wanted you to want me. But you love your fans more." I commented. "It's not like that I love you more, I missed you a lot after we broke up." he said. "Not enough to clear the air anyways." I voiced out. "What do you want me to do?" Lando asked trying to reach for my hands. "Love me, choose me. For once in your damned life, fight for me. If you really want me you'll do something, or you can watch me walk away for the second time." I stated while turning on my heels and leaving.

I did not expect Lando to do what he did next. He made a statement on every social media account of his, even Quadrants; it read-

Hi guys, Lando here. I would like to let you all know that I love Y/N Y/L/N who is currently working for Sky Sports F1. We used to date a few years ago but we broke up because of my foolishness. Fate gave me another chance and I don't want to blow it. If any of you have any issue with her, keep it to yourself. Because she is here to stay for as long as she will have me. Kindly refrain from sending her any hate if you love and support me. If you do send hate, I will be forced to take legal action to protect the love of my life.

I was sat in shock reading the statement. I can already imagine the train wreck McLaren PR must be in. I was pulled out of my thoughts by a knock on my door. I opened it to find a sweaty Lando with a big bouquet of flowers, chocolates and a couple gift bags. "I know this isn't a lot, but this is a start. Let me apologise. I'm sorry for all the hurt I caused you. Please take me back." he said with tears in his eyes. I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I love you too Lando Norris." I declared. Lando dropped all the stuff on the ground and wrapped his arms around me. "I won't let you down, I promise." he said. "I'll hold you to it." I said. "You can hold it against me for the rest of our lives." he told. "I don't think you want me that long." I laughed. He broke our embrace to cup my cheeks, "I'll have you as long as you'll let me stay." and pressed a kiss against my lips. "I think I'll like to have you inside for now." I said while pulling him in and closing the door.

[msmk11]

Road Trip With Poly!Marauders

(James Potter x Sirius Black x Remus Lupin x Lily Evans x gn!reader)

A/n: This is my first attempt at Poly!Marauders and I also wanted to include Lily! It just makes so much sense in my head. I was just on a long ass road trip so it inspired me to write this. I’m also lacking in motivation so bullet points felt sufficient! Hope you enjoy 🫶

You all agree to take turns driving to make the road trip more bearable. Typically any time you all drive together I imagine Remus is at the wheel, Lily rides shotgun, you’re in the middle, and James and Sirius are on either side of you. So you start out the road trip in this layout. It especially works because James and Sirius will never end up upfront together- a recipe for disaster defined by too many crash close-calls, bickering, and two himbos who aren’t always the best at directions.

Being in the middle of them though is a blessing and a curse. You do get to sprawl out on your comfy boyfriends, your head on James’ thighs and your feet in Sirius’ lap (though Remus scolds you for this ‘unsafe position’.) However, you’re also stuck between their playful bickering and have once or twice been pelted with a straw wrapper in the midst of a petty disagreement. (Headphones are your best friend.)

Road trip playlists for days. And you know they’re all fire too regardless of who is driving.

I also guarantee you’ll take the best naps of your life. Car naps are already elite. But snuggled up with your comfy partners you are out like a light.

On the mention of naps- there are a ridiculous amount of unflattering photos of all of you asleep in the car. Sirius is usually the one to take the photos and he forgets to turn off the flash 50% of the time, resulting in the victim being awoken.

SO. MANY. SNACKS. One: yall gotta feed James who has the appetite of three people. Second: Lily is so mother sometimes and may overpack the snacks. But you’re all so grateful for it because she always seems to have exactly what you need when you need it.

You guys take lots of rest stops. On one hand, I’m convinced Remus has the bladder of a grandpa and has to pee a lot. Also, James especially has a lot of energy and gets antsy if he sits for too long. You can often catch him making laps around the building when you guys stop (and me too.)

I’m pretty sure on a long road trip Remus could finish a whole book. Lily would be close behind.

Games! Y’all play a lot of the classic road trip games like the license plate game and the alphabet game. Lily and Sirius are both uber competitive so they can stay entertained by these games for hours.

If you use a gps, you spend a lot of time mocking the voice (maybe this is just a me thing guys).

I can’t decide what the temperature in the car would be. Remus definitely runs cold so he is bundled up with blankets and sweaters always, but I doubt he’d turn on the heat because James would simply melt. He’d love to blast the ac. Sirius (dog at heart) loves to have the windows rolled down and feel the wind on his face and hair. I feel like Lily would also have a little carsickness so she’d like the windows down. Ig it would really be driver’s preference

Lily’s carsickness=those silly glasses. She hates them but they work. If anyone makes fun of her for the glasses you’re dead!

(these guys lol)

Car. Karaoke.

But anyways, road trips with your lovely partners are the best!!

[stellayuta]

Love on The Grid - Formula 1 AU! Yuta Okkotsu - Pt 5 (FINALE)

Your likes, comments and reblogs really encourage me to write more! So do interact with this post and let me know your thoughts 💙

PART 1 ||| PART 2 ||| PART 3 ||| PART 4 ||| PART 5

synopsis: One-night stands were nothing but a necessary painkiller for your inability to cross paths with true love. Your most recent find at a Vegas Club was no different. He was boring, obedient, SLOW! You leave him high and hanging hoping you'd never see him again until you find yourself gawking at a supersized billboard of him on a Vegas highway with the title 'LEGEND RETURNS TO VEGAS'.

content: 18+ only. Formula one driver! Yuta x f! reader, all sorts of sexy stuff (fingering, oral, orgasm denial), swearing, angsty elements, cheating and discussion of mental health <3 WARNING! Always use protection!

word count: 10k

a/n: part 5 and the final part! For the purpose of this story, Last race of the season takes place in Japan, not Abu Dhabi.

"Y/N..." A voice tries to break your rigid concentration. "Listen, Y/N..."

"What!" you snap finally, turning to face your anxious coworker. You look away from your monitor to find one of the timid interns holding her laptop shakily, mortified at your outburst. You clear your throat and quickly readjust your computer glasses.

"I'm sorry about that, I was just going through some of the client meeting notes." You clarify, pointing at your screen. "What's wrong?"

"No, I just wanted to make sure the tickets were booked right. I've never traveled out of the county. And this is such a big deal as an intern, I-I want to make sure I do everything right!" she blurts out, making you give her a small, nostalgic smile. You remember when you were an intern - tiny, timid, clueless. When you moved out of your small town, you left behind all the things that restricted or haunted you. Now your new job is flashier than ever, in the heart of a metropolitan city, buzzing with people and possibilities and with a promotion on the horizon. It had been a year, and you don't even remember Megumi's face anymore. You had no hard feelings and not even a single second of your time left to give to him anymore.

It was hard at first of course, but encouragement and support from your friends and a lot of self-work soon helped you find balance and self-satisfaction in life. You were at your healthiest at this point. Away from turmoil and away from self-doubt.

"Y/N, did you listen?" the intern looked at you nervously, derailing your train of thought yet again.

"Come again, sorry."

"The other Manager has recommended your name to accompany me at the Tech Summit, with two other interns. He said you'll be able to manage us properly. They've already booked your tickets."

You almost choke on the coffee you're sipping.

"What? Who the hell gave them-" you begin to roar but then looking at the poor girl cower in fear, you sit back down.

"No, no. I'm not mad at you."

You were mad because this was the weekend of the last race. The decider match.

Of course, it had been a year, you had metamorphosized, moved on. But you never forgot the race that got you on the edge of your seat back in Vegas. And neither did you forget the man who drove you crazy with lust. Not even for a single day. His business card was still hidden underneath your phone cover, creaseless. You had never dared to look at his number.

Now, you cheered him on as a fan. Following his races, rooting for him. Every now and then, your heart would ache - but you were happy for him. The only connection you had with him was through your device screen.

After a disappointing end to his last season, you had a lot of guilt. He clearly looked a bit weary, insomnia ridden for sure. Not willing to talk during interviews, keeping a low profile. He had gathered a lot of negative press because of this, people on social media sending him death threats, cyber bullying him, picking apart anything he said or did. It broke you to see him that way and there were many times you wanted to reach out - comfort him. But you knew it wasn't right.

You weren't ready then and he definitely didn't need a reminder that you happened to him. And now, it's too late for any of that.

Yuta maintained his aggressive, dominant racing style that he cultivated over the last year compared to the calm, calculative run he had during the years prior. It was a shock to the grid, but newer fans were very fond of the new beast that the track had birthed. He spoke less, remained polite and stayed out of trouble - focusing everything on winning races.

Fan interaction was the least of his concerns right now because Geto's team, Red Bull - had come up with massive and effective updates making the fight for the title a challenging yet thrilling one. They wanted to continue their laurels from last year and secure Geto his second win. They were closely tailed by Gojo and Geto's teammate, Mahito.

Geto and Yuta were currently tied in the standings. The final match was to take place on Sunday. The decider. Yuta and Geto's home race. And you would now miss it because that stupid manager can't be bothered to move his ass.

"I have plans. I can't make it." you flatly tell the intern who merely frowns. She was probably prepared to get a rejection from me because she is ready with her rebuttal. "The manager said you had committed a few weekends this summer. He just picked this one based on that."

"I'll talk to him." you reply, shaking your head and pinching your throbbing temple. With great responsibilities, come great migraines.

"Where is the summit anyway?" you ask, already typing out a message for her manager.

"Oh, It's in Japan. I'm quite excited, it's a beautiful country."

Japan?

You backspace the entire message.

"Never mind, I'm coming." You leave your laptop open as the split window flashes with a formula one ad - "Decider Race in Suzuka, Japan. Join the Fun, December this Year!"

"Let me meet up with your supervisors and talk more."

*****

The immigration at Japan's Nagoya International Airport, with three kids tailing you, hiding behind you like puppies is a bit of hassle with the language barrier and everything, but you persist regardless.

It's rather comfortably cool but not bitingly cold, even for December, owing to Suzuka's more southern location - compared to Tokyo. There is no sign of snowfall as you witnessed from the airplane while it descended. It would be good conditions for the race - a bit dry perhaps. And of course, the summit, the main attraction!

The interns, though a bit overwhelmed by the new environment, are starting to show signs of excitement as well. Their initial shyness is giving way to curiosity, their eyes wide with wonder at the sights and sounds of the bustling airport. You smile, knowing that this experience will be a memorable adventure for them too.

You are finally able to catch a shuttle to the hotel you're staying at - a five star one (courtesy of your company) and are finally able to relax, staring out the foggy window at the organized and clean Japanese streets, and the people, dressed in plain, formal clothes walking to work perhaps. You almost get lost in the mundanity of it all until the interns alert you that the hotel is here.

You all get down with all your luggage and gawk at the premier hotel building with its cream granite exterior, European design and tall pillars. It looked a bit out of place in the minimalistic spread of Suzuka. There is already a line at the receptionist's desk when you near it, making you sigh.

"Ah foo-" you turn to face your interns. "Can one of you hold the place while I sit somewhere?" The interns hesitantly, but definitively shake their head to say No. Kids, they grow up fast.

You stand in line for what feels like an hour but is only a few minutes until you hear an entourage approach you with their shiny, expensive luggage and matching clothes.

"We have VIP access, let us cut." one of them, a suited and no-nonsense woman tells you. You raise a brow at her, staring at her chapping red lips and burgundy jacket.

"Like hell. Cut after us, we're going first." You tell them flatly.

"Listen, we don't have time for this so please just comply..." the woman tries to negotiate but you don't want to budge.

"I don't have time either." you raise your hand.

"Let me handle this..." A man steps in front of the woman, towering over both of you. He is completely covered head to toe in a red beanie, red track suit and dark glasses with a black face-mask. Before he can say anything though, he simply looks at you and your interns.

"Y/N?" He removes his glasses to show a pair of cerulean eyes that you immediately match with a snowy head and a flashy personality in your brain.

"No way..." you clasp at your mouth. "Gojo Satoru?" you exclaim, confusing the parade of staff, probably Ferrari staff behind him.

"Next!" the receptionist bellows before you two can talk further and you make haste, finishing up the formalities, grabbing the keycard and returning to talk to Gojo, followed by your heard of puppies who look at Gojo skeptically. Of course they would, if a flashy, red man showed up.

"I'm- Where the hell have you been? You just disappeared!" He says and you open your mouth to defend yourself but he clearly has more to say.

"Yuta was distraught! What the hell happened between the two of you anyway! He won't talk to Geto, well they are kind of on weird terms now anyway. But he won't even talk to me!"

Hearing Yuta's name makes you immediately divert your eyes.

"H-How has he been?" you ask, softly.

"Well he was in a mood last season. We were all afraid he'd run us over with his Merc." Gojo admits, recalling some eerie memory of Yuta. "Well, specifically he was angry. But wouldn't talk about it. He got reprimanded by the management of course and started to focus his anger on the races instead." He tells you.

"I mean, he was always a beast on the track, a once in a generation talent. But now, he's simply incomparable. The only races he lost out on this season were ones where he pushed the car so hard, the engine or the mechanism went off."

Internally, you are happy that Yuta seems to be doing well. But somewhere, you feel a pang of discomfort. This isn't the Yuta you know. Or any of his peers know.

"Give me your number by the way..." Gojo asks, excitedly, removing his phone, also bright red. Human Ferrari he is, for sure.

"What for?"

"To leak on the internet..."

"Gojo..."

"What to hang out of course. And I have something to send to you." He says, forcing you to divulge your number which you do, with a grimace. What could go wrong anyway.

"Oh, and I don't know if you're still on talking terms with Yuta but, he's on floor 5 of this hotel, meet him if you want-" Gojo tells you and your heart skips a beat. You sneak a glance at your keycard and feel your throat go dry. You are on floor 5 as well. Before you can say anything else though, the Ferraris are on their way.

"Make sure you are free tomorrow! It's race day!" He says, without turning as their entourage enters the glass elevators.

"How do you know him, Y/N, he was quite hot..." One of the interns tugs at your elbow.

"Was he a former sweetheart?" The other intern grins at you.

"Hell no!" you snap. "That's a professional formula one racer. Watch ESPN a bit more, kids." you say, pulling them along with you to floor 5. You hope and pray with all your might that you don't run into Yuta at any point. Only when you send them off to their suites and enter your own, you finally take a huge breath of relief.

You thought you were over Yuta as well. That you could look at him and interact with him as fan. Maybe that was the case, given you'd never see run into him again. You cover your reddening face with your hands as you slump down to the ground and go into memory mode. It all comes back to you all of a sudden. His height, his dark hair, his large, innocent eyes, his firm, toned body and careful hands. His calming voice and his cozy demeanor. The more you think about him, the soggier your panties feel. You cannot afford to get out of this hotel room and run into him. You have no idea what you will do to him if you see him. Plus, what if he has a girlfriend now? Control yourself, Y/N. Show maturity.

You suck in a harsh breath and get off the carpeted floor, instead removing your laptop from your bag and checking emails to distract yourself. An ad keeps popping up in the corner of your screen though - about the Decider Race in Suzuka. And after all your attempts to ignore it, you finally click on it, annoyed.

You go through the seats and the prices. Even the cheapest, general admission ticket you can find sells for a fortune, making you gasp at the numbers. Great. This gives you a solid reason to NOT go. Now you can use it as an excuse to convince your brain that you are not losing out on an opportunity.

You shut the tab and continue looking at your agenda for tomorrow, smiling and humming to yourself in relief. That is until you hear your phone buzz to life, beside your laptop.

You check it to see a few messages from an unknown number.

"Helloooo!!!"

"Gojo here. Satoru Gojo. Handsomest driver on the grid. Ferrari's muse and face."

"You are already 20 seconds late at replying. Be quicker!"

You cringe at the string of messages and send him a thumbs up emoji as a reply, snickering menacingly when he sends another string of complaints. You wonder if Gojo too has a queue of women waiting for him to notice them. In that case, has he been influencing Yuta too?

You shut the thought down immediately. You're a fan. You remind yourself.

"Look what I got for you. Thank me later."

*Attached File*

Did he send you a trojan virus? nope. It's worse.

You open up the PDF file to find a ticket of some sort. Only it's the paddock VIP ticket for the race tomorrow. You'll be in Ferrari's stands.

You type out a long, long, long message. One full of swears and reprimands. But you backspace all of it and instead hit the call button.

"Ah, hi. Did you see-"

"WHAT'S THE MEANING OF THIS GOJO SATORU!" you shriek into the phone receiver earning a yelp from Gojo.

"It's a once in a lifetime opportunity, Y/N. You can't say no."

"But-"

"I've already paid."

"....."

"Oh, come on. Cheer for me. Come. You'll have fun!"

You are too angry to answer, and you simply cut the call. After your five minutes of anger subsides, anxiety takes its place. So, this is it. You get to see Yuta demolish the track live. Maybe this will be the last time ever. Maybe it's a good thing.

You decide to not think too much about it and just sleep on it instead. And sleep comes fairly easy, after your day-long air travel and the nervousness that maybe Yuta is hugging his blankets with his muscular arms, right next door. You picture those arms around your waist for a second and reminisce his deep blue eyes as you fall asleep, a bit bothered and surely wet.

*****

The next morning, you wake up before the sun even has a chance to show its face. You take a cold shower and prepare everything for the day to come. The Tech Summit will be a crucial stage to showcase your company and you, and your interns have to do a good job. As soon as the clock strikes 7, you go knocking on their doors to wake them up by force.

"Rise and shine, children! We've got some serious networking ahead of us!" you announce with infectious enthusiasm. Suddenly, the volume of your voice strikes you, and a wave of panic sweeps over you at the thought of waking Yuta. The mere idea of him hearing your voice and peeking out from one of the doors sends a shiver down your spine. With your heart racing, you quickly inform the interns that you're heading to the reception area. Without missing a beat, you make your escape, your high heels tapping a rhythm masked by the plush carpet that blankets the entire floor, each step a silent testament to your urgency.

The ground floor lobby of the hotel in the morning is a serene yet bustling oasis of activity. Sunlight streams in through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm, golden glow across the polished marble floors. The air is filled with a subtle blend of fresh coffee and the delicious aroma of breakfast from the lavish dining court, north of the lobby. Plush, modern sofas and armchairs are arranged in cozy clusters, inviting guests to sit and relax.You were too busy with Gojo to notice any of this, last evening. 

As you walk around amongst the many hotel guests who are going about their way, enthralled, you take a seat in one of the sofas. You even see familiar colors, worn by some of the people in groups. You see the full teals of Aston Martin, the pinks of Alpine, the orange of McLaren. Looks like the entire grid is housed in this hotel. You gulp as you try to keep an eye out for any sight of black and subtle teal of Mercedes. 

Instead, you feel a shifting of feet beside you and find a group of dark blue and red clad people looking rather grave and sitting on adjacent sofas, in a close huddle. It doesn’t take too long to recognize long, sleek hair half tied up and half down. His snake-like eyes scan the huddle, as if he’s commanding them. You don’t forget the aura of Geto Suguru. A pale guy, with wild matted and blue hair sits beside him, with a manic expression on his face, like he’s his lap dog. This must be Mahito. They seem to be having some sort of serious conversation with their team. You can’t help but listen in, keeping your eyes on the ground. 

“So what are we going to do about Strategy A?” one of the Red Bull engineers asks Geto, in a low voice, looking around to see if any of the teams are paying attention.

“Act normal, Garner.” Geto tells him, smiling sweetly but darkly. “Don’t act suspicious and no one will notice.”

“We are to proceed with Strategy B. We don’t attack the rest of the grid today. We will only focus on the Mercedes duo.” Geto states.

“That was the plan all along.” The Red Bull staff interjects. “What are you saying?”

“Well your plan was for me to defend against Okkotsu and Mahito to defend against Merc number 2, Inumaki.” Geto begins as the team leans in closer to pay attention. Mahito seems strangely excited to get a mention from Geto.

“My plan is that we leave Inumaki alone. He’s of no consequence to us. He’ll be too busy defending against the Ferraris.” Geto continues and your brows furrow. What is he on to?

“I am sitting on the pole. And Okkotsu is second. The best way to go about it is to get Mahito to play on the offensive. Okkotsu gets rash and risky when faced with competition or close tailers. It is likely Mahito and Okkotsu will take each other out.”

Your eyes widen as you hear this. 

“And Inumaki has the slower car. Ferrari’s engineers wouldn’t anticipate number 2 and 3 being knocked out. They are more prepared for a podium finish, not the top finish. This will ensure that Red Bull will go home with the Driver’s Championship trophy.” Geto concludes his idea and the Red Bull team immediately begin discussing its feasibility. From the sound of it, most of them seem on board. Mahito seems to be the most excited, willing to give anything for Geto to get his second title.

The absurdity of the ongoing discussion is enough for you to look up and find yourself directly looking into Geto Suguru’s skeptical eyes. Your nostrils flare and a sweat breaks out atop your forehead at the thought of being caught. He narrows his eyes at you but dismisses you as a fan. He doesn’t recognize you. 

Thank GOODNESS.

You smile at him and quickly move away from their group of sofas. As fast as you can. So they are going to use Yuta’s driving style against him today. Which is fine. They are willing to crash into him to take him out as well. This is all a pre-planned, premeditated attempt to injure, or…you gulp… murder.

You lean against one of the reception desks to gather yourself for a minute. The lobby’s morning hustle now feels like a surreal backdrop to the chilling plot you’ve just overheard. The hum of conversations, the clinking of breakfast dishes, and the soft footsteps of guests blend into a muted buzz as your mind races. You need to warn Yuta, but how? 

Your interns show up soon, their bright, eager faces a stark contrast to the dark conversation you just overheard. They’re ready to go for the summit, unaware of the dangerous game being plotted in the corner of the lobby. As they approach, you take a deep breath, plaster on a smile, and try to push the sinister revelations to the back of your mind. You don’t see the Mercedes team anywhere in the lobby anyway, so you take your leave for the moment, feeling a tightness in your chest.

While the task at hand is crucial, you are more than confident that you can handle it flawlessly. The Tech Summit is being held at one of the corporate headquarters in the city area, a sleek skyscraper with reflective glass windows that glisten in the morning sun. As you step into the spacious lobby, you are greeted by an impressive display of innovation: booths showcasing various avenues in computing. Executives in sharp suits mingle with tech enthusiasts, the air buzzing with excitement and possibility.

Once you are in, you send off your beaming and well-prepared interns to talk to some big shots, their enthusiasm palpable as they approach various booths and networking clusters. You retire to a quiet corner, checking your phone and brainstorming for your next move. It's only a few hours until the race in Suzuka, Japan, a pivotal event in the Formula One calendar. The summit’s focus on the intersection of technology and sports is evident, with several companies proudly displaying their investments in Formula One.

Tech giants are pouring millions into F1, not just for branding but for the practical applications of cutting-edge technology in car performance, data analytics, and real-time communication systems. The fusion of high-speed racing and high-tech innovation is a perfect synergy, driving advancements that benefit both the automotive and tech industries.

However, the tension from earlier this morning lingers. Despite the engaging presentations and lively discussions around you, the clandestine conversation you overheard refuses to leave your mind. The race in Suzuka today is more than just a sporting event—it’s a battleground where the stakes are life and death, a thought that chills you as you consider Geto’s ruthless strategy.

You open your phone to find a few messages from Gojo and it makes a bulb go off in your head.

“Come to the hotel lobby at around 4PM. I’ll send someone to pick you up. I’m at the track right now.” He has texted. You read the message and pull out Yuta’s card from your phone cover. You don’t waste time and call him right away. A woman receives your call on the other end.

“Hello! Is Yuta free?” you ask, desperately but you can tell from the woman’s silence that it is not the case.

“He won’t be free until after the race. I’m sorry.”

‘I-it’s fine.” you laugh nervously, keeping the phone.

That idea was a bust.

Before you can think more, you are pulled in by one of your interns to help you out with a heated discussion they are having with a company representative on use cases of Artificial Intelligence. The rest of the morning and afternoon goes this way, with your hands full of discussions and debates with Men in Tech, mistaking you for one of the interns until you sigh and show them your badge of ‘Director of Software Engineering’, before obliterating them during the ‘discussions’ with a curt smile.

You don’t think about the race until after you have exited the premises of the Summit along with your pumped up interns who are waxing lyrical about you. They won’t stop talking even on the cab ride back home.

“That was amazing Y/N. You saved our necks.”

“Just be confident and patient till they give you a moment to strike.” you tell them wearily. 

Probably a strategy Mahito will be using today. 

“Do we go out today for drinks? How about it?” The interns begin discussing among themselves while I tune them out, shaking my leg in agitation.

“Y/N, want to join us?” one of them asks you eagerly and politely reject their invitation.

“I have plans today.”

“What plans?” The male intern asks, curious. The other two also lean in to listen.

“I am going to watch a Formula One Race, it’s in Suzuka.” You tell them and their eyes go all sparkly before they begin smirking at you.

“It’s the hot driver guy isn’t it. He invited you? That’s awesome Y/N! Looks like he’s interested!” This makes you scoff. “He’s just a friend. He’s not the one I have eyes for anyway.”

“Oooo, so there is someone you have eyes for!” they chime together. “Who is it?” 

An image instantly pops into your head. One of him hovering over you as you moaned out his name. You smile to yourself and dismiss the interns’ questions, making all of them pout.

As you enter the hotel lobby, a stark contrast from its earlier bustling atmosphere greets you. The lively chatter and movement have dissipated, leaving behind an eerie quiet that amplifies the grandeur of the space. The reception area, usually a hub of activity, is now manned by a solitary staff member who nods politely as you pass.

Heading towards the elevator, a wave of unease washes over you, chilling your hands. Should you attempt to find Yuta by knocking on every door on the fifth floor? No, that would likely result in being ejected from the hotel.

Entering your room with a frustrated grunt, you slam the door shut behind you. Another cold shower helps clear your mind, though your appetite remains nonexistent. Stomach growling, you mechanically brush your teeth and change out of your morning pant suit into a comfortable ensemble: a red sweater, blue jeans, and sneakers. The choice of red is a nod to Ferrari, aligning with your plans for the day.

Feeling more at ease in casual attire, you pause to gather your thoughts. It’s 3:45 PM. You should head out now. You grab your phone, keys and wallets and walk out of the suite, impatiently trotting towards the elevator. You turn the corner just in time to see it close. Maybe you are hallucinating but you barely spot a glint of black and teal behind the doors as they swiftly close.

You stop dead in your tracks for merely a moment before you sprint towards the elevator. But that one is gone now. You press the down button for the second one and tap your foot on the ground, waiting for it to arrive desperately. 

When it takes you down to the ground floor, you come out, wildly looking around to see the familiar colors again. When you finally see them, your words all drown in your feelings as you see the black and teal clad man get into the back of a car, giving the driver a quick nod and a short smile. 

It was from fairly far away that you saw him, but you were certain. It was Yuta.

You have to hold yourself upright as you nearly begin hyperventilating and the receptionist has to come and check on you.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m fine.” you assure him, as he makes you sit on one of the sofas. You watch intently through the glass windows as Yuta’s car zooms past. That was your chance! If only you had come out two minutes earlier and weren’t drifting away in your fantasies.

You had to focus now. You can’t afford to have your legs turn to jelly or your head spin out of control anymore.

When the person meant to pick you up arrived, donning a red jacket and black pants, you were completely calm and composed — now willing to think clearly about what to do next.

The drive to the Suzuka Circuit is rather short for obvious reasons. The hotel had been picked to be accessible from the circuit. The car your driver has brought along isn’t a Ferrari, unfortunately.

Arriving at Suzuka Circuit as the evening settles in, the atmosphere is electric with anticipation. The sprawling complex is illuminated by bright floodlights, casting long shadows across the paddock and grandstands. The air buzzes with the hum of engines from nearby practice sessions and the excited chatter of fans who have gathered from around the world to witness the fight for domination between Red Bull and Mercedes.

The paddock itself is a hive of activity. Teams in their distinctive colors, now suited up in their race-suits, bustle about, mechanics fine-tuning the cars under the watchful eyes of engineers. Media personnel dart between interviews, capturing the pre-race fervor and probing for insights. Paparazzi lurk at every corner, their cameras flashing intermittently as they seek shots of drivers and celebrities who have shown up to support the drivers/take pictures for social media.You stare at the whole spread, starry eyed and very much in awe. It feels surreal as the world around you moves at 2x speed.

The cars themselves are a spectacle to behold. The sleek, aerodynamic designs gleam under the lights, adorned with sponsor logos and intricate details. Each team’s car reflects their engineering prowess and commitment to performance excellence, poised to navigate the demanding twists and turns of Suzuka Circuit. You want to go ahead and take a closer look but the Ferrari guy who is guiding you around stops you from doing so until later.

“You can see Ferrari’s car later.” he tells you reassuringly but you frown at him.

You spot Mercedes, clad in their silvery-black-teal livery, standing out with their meticulous preparations, but you maintain a straight face. Red Bull, in their vibrant blue and red, exude confidence and determination as you narrow your eyes at them. 

You are finally taken to Ferrari’s section — an attractive mix of red and gold flying in the stands and the air. The fans add to the vibrant tapestry of the evening. Dressed in team colors, they wave flags and banners, eagerly awaiting autographs and selfies with their favorite drivers. The scent of food from vendors mixes with the exhaust fumes, creating a unique blend that signifies race day excitement.

“Oh, look. There’s Mr. Gojo!” your guide cheers excitedly pointing to a separated section where two shiny, red cars sit in all their glory, surrounded by an army of mechanics and staff, also dressed in red. Seated in one of Ferrari's cars, a familiar figure catches your eye. He sits in the cockpit, helmet off, his tousled white hair catching the light as he adjusts his gloves with practiced ease. Spotting you amidst the crowd, Gojo flashes a brilliant smile and waves enthusiastically from the cockpit.

“Excited?” He tries to yell out over the crowd as you near him and his team. You nod and smile at his engineers before cornering him. 

“Did you see Yuta?” you ask Gojo.

“Busy day man. Haven’t really kept an eye out for him. Why won’t you go talk to him? Mercedes is right over there!” He says, pointing a gloved finger at the black and teal team.

“Won’t allow her… strategic secrets can’t be spilled.” Your guide tells you and Gojo, who seems to be unaware.

“Gojo, there’s something I need to tell you…” you begin, your unwavering eyes grabbing Gojo’s full attention as he puts on a serious face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I-It’s about Geto Suguru.”

“Suguru?” Gojo asks, his voice softening by a note. “What’s up with him?”

“Their team. They’re planning a dangerous strategy.” you say, only to get a few stares from the engineering team over at Ferrari. Gojo narrows his eyes at you, the cerulean blue piercing through you.

“And how do you know about this strategy?”

“I overheard. They’re going to make Yuta crash out.”

“Y/N.” Gojo calls out your name, and for the first time in his life, he sounds serious as hell. “Are you accusing Suguru of conspiracy? You know it’s illegal and could cost him his license.”

“But that’s what I heard!” you try to reason but Gojo doesn’t want to hear any of it.

“Suguru has known us since we were young. He would not do such a thing. And I suggest you don’t say this to anyone, not without evidence. Especially to Yuta, he won’t take kindly to it.” Gojo warns you. You hesitate on your spot before your Ferrari guide has to pull you away from the cars.

“Okay, that’s about it.” He says, dragging you away. “We can’t meddle with his concentration right before the race. Talk with him later, Miss Y/N.”

“B-but, I wasn’t done.” you complain, feeling a sting of pain in your elbow where the man grips you. “Hey, let me go!” 

“Listen! I just don’t want you confusing our drivers!” He finally snaps, spitting out at you.

“Their mental state is important! You can’t just say these things to them and bother them right before a crucial race!” he roars as I cringe in the slight flame of fear I feel inside him.

Everyone is way too busy in their chatter and taking photos of cars and drivers to notice what’s happening so you will have to struggle out of this on your own. 

You try to break free from his grip but in vain. 

“Let them get onto the track. I’ll let you go then.” He tells you, calmly.

“Are you holding me hostage right now? I said I understand, let me go!” you yelp, going for another twist of your arm to break free but the man has an iron grip. You begin panicking again now until you see another arm appear from the corner of your eye and hold on to the guide’s arm. 

The arm, covered in silvery black, padded material of a race suit. When you look at his face, your breath nearly stops. He doesn’t make eye contact with you, he barely seems to have noticed you. His penetrating gaze is fixed on your guide and he has him trapped in place.

“What’s the problem here?” He asks, in a rough low voice.

“N-Nothing, I was just escorting her away. Nothing wrong here, Mr. Okkotsu.” the guide stutters away, intimidated by Yuta.

Yuta looks the same, yet noticeably different at the same time. His once doe-like, innocent eyes now are half-lidded and uninterested, hiding secrets and carrying unknown burdens. He barely wants to smile, his lips stuck in a straight, firm line unwilling to curve. His jaw seems a bit more defined now, seemingly as he appears to look slightly manlier, and a lot more unapproachable. He has noticeable purple shadows under his eyes now and an eerily heavy aura.

“Do you not know how to behave with a woman? Leave her at once.” He says, grimly. When the guide finally lets me go and scurries away, Yuta finally looks at me, “Please, take—” but before he can finish his sentences, his lips freeze and his pupils dilate. You yourself let out a small gasp before his name exits your mouth in the sweetest voice possible. “Yuta…”

Yuta stands still for a while, his gaze not moving from you. You see his lips quiver and the muscles in his jaw ripple as he wordlessly takes his leave, moving quickly through the people, running away from you.

Not wanting to let him go to the race like that, you follow him. You follow him into a unisex restroom, closing and locking the door behind you as you find him fidgeting with the tap and the paper towels, unwilling to look at you or the mirror. The dim, dirty lights of the place only highlight his somber features as you frown at him.

You stand next to him until he is forced to acknowledge your presence. 

“H-how have you been, Y/N?” he asks, in a shaky voice.

Good? Better? I haven’t moved on from you? What do you tell him?

The stench and claustrophobia of this restroom doesn’t help the situation at all.

“I’ve been doing better, Yuta. How have you been?” you ask, tenderly. He still won’t look at you.

“I’ve been the same really. Just working hard. Racing. Boring stuff. Haha.” He laughs nervously, licking his lips, keeping his eyes down. 

“Yuta, if you don’t want to see me right now or talk to me. Tell me.” You say, with concern. “I don’t want to spoil your mood before the race.” 

“Not at all. A racer can’t let things like this affect him.” He laughs nervously yet again. “How come you’re here? Gojo invite you or something?”

“He did. That’s besides the point.” You say, getting back to business. “I wanted to meet you to tell you something.”

“Why? Do you want to get laid again? Did Megumi cheat on you again?” He interrupts. “We have all the time after the race, why don’t you excuse me now.” He furrows his brows.

“No, that’s not—”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that.” He confesses. “But, Y/N. I don’t know if I can actually handle seeing your face right now. Because you haunt my waking hours and my nightmares every single day.” He continues.

“I never stopped thinking about how you left me that day. I was begging you to stop. You don’t love me, right? Heck, I haven’t even been able to look at a woman after that. Then let me suffer in peace.” Hearing all of that breaks your heart but you have no right to console him.  

“Is there anything left to say Y/N? Do you want to tell me how much you don’t love me?” he asks bitterly now, finally looking into your eyes. Dark blue, not somber anymore but teary. Vulnerable. Evidently, very much in love with you, after all those months apart.

“Well then, the race is going to start soon, I should —”

Before he can finish though, you grab his suit and pull him down to kiss him. Euphoria spreads through your mind and body, a soothing calm coating your entire being as you feel his lips mingle with yours. He doesn’t resist — he too is a victim of his own yearning. 

The two of you grab a hold of each other's hair and deepen the kiss. You entirely mess up his perfectly combed hair until it falls to the front of his forehead, brushing against yours. The two of you don’t even surface for a breath of air and keep kissing until it’s physically impossible and you have to separate — your face red, and your lips swollen. Both of you panting.

You swipe your thumb on his plump bottom lip, staring at it as you speak to him. 

“Did you get your answer now?”

Yuta seems to be in a daze though, completely bowled over by your bold attempt.

“Listen carefully, Yuta.” you tell him. “The raging maniac I’ve been seeing on the track this past year. That’s not you. You have to play it smart and smooth today, do you understand?”

“Y/N…” he chants, running a hand through your hair and pinching your cheek. “If I don’t drive dominantly, I won’t win.”

“Okkotsu Yuta, if you have ever loved me, promise me you will not drive rashly today.” you tell him clearly, with an air of finality in your voice and he stares at you.

“I’ll do what’s best at that moment, Y/N. Don’t worry about it.”

“No! You have to promise me!” 

“Okay, okay!” he says, giving up, separating from you and opening up the restroom door. “Race starts in a few. I’m going for real now.”

“Please, Yuta. Be careful.” you repeat, tearing up now. “There’s so much I want to say to you later.”

“I’ll see you later with the trophy in hand, that’s a promise.” Yuta states. And for the first time in what seems like an eternity, he brings out the smile he always flashed earlier. Your Yuta’s heart-warming, genuine smile.

The two of you leave the restroom at last and he would not let you go back to the Ferrari zone. Instead, making you sit with his black and silver army of curious Mercedes folk. They all look at you like you’re some kind of shiny toy and it makes you blush and hide behind Yuta.

“Take care of her. Don’t scare her, I will know.” Yuta warns them, taking your hand and leading you to one of the fancy pavilions reserved for staff and their guests. They hand you a pair of headphones and make you sit with some of the women who happen to be the WAGs of the crew and the drivers. You have the pleasure of joining Inumaki’s hot as hell girlfriend who is wearing a silken top and an elegant black skirt along with a heart-winning smile. And there you are with your Ferrari sweater.

[Music recommendation, damn even the color of the audio track goes with the story:]

Yuta runs off quickly after that to hop into his car and have a final conversation with his engineers before he and his teammate Inumaki are called off to join the starting order for the formation lap. From your vantage point, you watch as the sleek, powerful machines take their positions. The sight of Yuta in his Mercedes, with his intense focus and determination, fills you with a mixture of pride and anxiety. 

As the formation lap begins, the cars glide gracefully around the track, their engines producing a symphony of power. The tension builds with every passing moment, the crowd’s anticipation reaching a fever pitch. You grip the edge of your seat, your heart racing in sync with the machines on the track. After a few minutes, the cars begin lining up in order again and the crowd goes silent — with Geto and Yuta making up the front line and an eager Mahito right on Yuta’s tail.

The race is about to begin, and you can only hope that Yuta will deliver on his promise. You press your palms together in anticipation and pray for Yuta to be safe.

They show the faces of all twenty drivers in a promotional video running over on the giant screens. You spot Yuta just as they announce the beginning of the race.

The five red lights come to life one by one with a beep and at the next beat of your heart, they go off, the car engines revving to life and the crowd going ballistic with cheer as Geto crosses Yuta and Yuta rapidly shifts to the side, going tire to tire with Geto’s Red Bull, sliding past him by a minimal margin and taking lead of the race as the fans erupt into cheer. You find yourself standing up and pumping your fists in the air. 

The cars follow the leading duo, creeping along behind them in quick succession.

“That's Good there Yuta. Keep pushing." You here a robotic voice in your ears. Probably Yuta's engineer.

“Copy that." You hear Yuta's voice and blush. Inumaki’s girlfriend eyeing you and grinning.

As the first lap comes to an end and continues into the second lap, there's a buzz of conversation going on in the room. The engineers and staff moving around, barking at each other and some glued to the gigantic screens.

“The car's doing well. Good job guys." Yuta sends out a message.

You overhear two of the engineers discussing among themselves that Yuta was being chattier and nicer than usual today and you smirk internally.

As the second lap progresses through the team witnesses a strange change in positions. Geto slows down ever so slightly to let Mahito’s car pass. There is a bit of commotion going on inside the room, curious discussions about Red Bull’s strategy taking place but you are aware what's going to happen as Mahito's slithering car inches closer to Yuta and activates its DRS.

“No!" You yell out and the entire room turns to look at you.

“Yuta! He needs to get out of the way! He-" 

But before the engineers can register what you're saying or what's happening on the track you see Mahito’s car touch Yuta's from the behind, Yuta intercepting this and narrowly avoiding being tossed in the air. He does get pushed off the track though and into the grass until he gains control and slowly makes his way back onto the track. Now in 7th place.

You are the only one who breathes a sigh of relief because you're the only one who is aware of what went down behind the scenes. There is an uproar in the room now, a lot of them cursing out Mahito and Red Bull to no end. 

One of them finds the time to connect with Yuta on the Radio and ask if he's fine.

“Yeah, I'm alright guys." He reassures everyone. “Pushed far behind though. That seemed pretty deliberate. Put that up for review please." His voice breaks through the radio.

The crowd collectively gasps as they now see Geto swap places with Mahito and regain his position as the leader.

“Yuta. We can salvage this. Stick to the first strategy. Try to be aggressive.” The engineer instructs Yuta.

"Copy, that. At least until I gain P3" Yuta replies, making the engineers exchange  panicked glances.

You see Yuta in action on the big screen and now understand what people have been saying about his feral driving. You witness as he pushes the car to its absolute limit, overtaking two cars — an Aston Martin and Itadori’s Ferrari in one go at one of the fast corners, leaving them startled in his dirty air. He's now racing at P4, after Inumaki lets him pass as per team orders.

“Oh my god, he's up with Gojo now." Inumaki's girlfriend squeaks, holding your hand with an iron grip,making you break out into a sweat two.

Gojo’s Ferrari and Yuta’s Merc go head on, battling each other, getting into each other's way. Gojo is as unpredictable as Yuta is ferocious.

The two of them swap positions a good four times until Yuta is able to zoom past him in a dramatic show, in one of the wider corners, right into the straights.

He's now P3. And the only competition he has in front of him are the red bulls.

“You're in podium position right now. Second place is ensured. Don't do anything stupid." The engineer warns Yuta.

The room doesn't hear back from Yuta for a while until all of you witness his aggressive drive turn to a more smooth one for the first time in over a year.

"Copy that. I've a promise to keep.”

The crowd, the crew, the engineers, the photographers, the journalists, the WAGs and you. All of you watch as time stills, Yuta moving like a stream of water, smooth and direct, inching close to Mahito's car. 

They enter the DRS zone and the Mercedes’ flap flips open to let in the air stream. 

Yuta slips to the side staying just a tad bit behind Mahito whose intent now seems to push Yuta off the track for good if he attacks. 

Mahito who was expecting and anticipating Yuta to fault, for him to aggressively move past keeps waiting as they keep driving on the straight with DRS on.

It isn't until Mahito keeps straight, too drowned in his confusion to notice Yuta speed up right as they turned into a corner. 

Without warning, right as the DRS zone ends Yuta hits the throttle and speeds out of Mahito's reach, making the crowd go crazy.

In that moment, everyone on the track and in the stands is rooting for Yuta. They are waiting with bated breathes as the last lap approaches and Yuta's car creeps closer to Geto’s Red Bull.

The engineers have nothing to say now, they too, watch on in awe.

Your hands clasp over your mouth, as you watch without blinking as they enter the last corners.

Call it luck.

Talent and hard work can take you very far. But the harder you work, the better your luck is. And in those final seconds, Yuta happened to have newer, more seasoned tyres compared to Geto's more worn ones owing to an earlier pit stop. Maybe your prayers worked.

And that was it for Red Bull.

Yuta pushes the car and rockets out of the corner, zooming towards the finish line as the checkered flag waves the declaration of victory for him. Leaving the red bull, the ferraris, everyone who ever doubted him in the dust of the track.

He pumps his fists out of the cockpit, screaming profanity into the radio.

“FUCKKK YESSSS!!!!" 

“LET'S GO BABY!!! LET'S FUCKING GOOO AAAAHHHH!!!" 

He pulls his car aside while the others pass and returns to the track to do some celebratory donuts with his car, the steam from his tyres enveloping the car.

It's like a festival in Mercedes' operations room. Everyone is hugging each, patting each others’ back, crying. Inumaki's girlfriend is mumbling to herself, still holding your hand.

And you?

You are in utter shock. Absolutely unable to form sentences.

One of the engineers has to shake you awake.

“Okkotsu has done it! He's done it! Not just that, Inumaki came in third! We've won both titles! Mercedes has done it!" 

"H-huh?” You choke out, tearing up.

"Don't you want to see him? He's coming in right now!” the team exclaims, crowding at the door, aching to get out and meet their winner.

Out in the paddock, the teams have arrived to welcome their hard-fought warriors. The various colors stand together in unison waiting beside the tracks, separated from the drivers by the chain fence.

You see a line of women waiting by, standing out from the teams thanks to their eye-catching, elegant attires. They looked like supermodels — tall, magazine cover beauties. They must be the WAGs. 

You suddenly feel very conscious about your sweater and jeans. Just a year ago, you too had the most exquisite outfit possible, completely ruined by Yuta on his Lambo.

The drivers show up one by one as the paddock welcomes them. There is an impressive cheer for the arrival of Gojo Satoru, P4. He winks at the WAGs as they appear totally distracted from their own racer boyfriends but he doesn't stay for long.

He meets up midway with a dejected looking Geto and takes him away to some place you can't quite see.

Looks like they want to have a talk.

If the cheer for Gojo was something, it's nothing compared to the deafening roar championship winner, Yuta receives as soon as his Mercedes pulls in.

He jumps out of the car, removes his gloves, helmet and fireproof and comes running straight towards your lot, jumping onto them as they screech, hoisting him up in the air and ferally rubbing his hair.

“Well done, boy!" 

“Well done!" They chant.

When they finally let go and you're able to see Yuta. You don't see any sign of the depressed ghost of a man you saw earlier. This was the Yuta you knew and loved. Happy, shining bright, eyes full of life.

He wipes the sweat of his forehead as he approaches you and grabs you by the waist to pick you up and twirl you around.

He presses his sweaty nose to yours, his dark eyes twinkling.

“We did it, baby. I kept my promise." He laughs between words. 

"Now then,” he smiles at me giddily, walking away from the team with me still in his arms.

"What did you want to say to me earlier?”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Telling you just how much I love you will take more than a few minutes, Yuta." You kiss his nose.

“More than a few hot nights." You kiss his forehead.

“And more than a lifetime." You say, finally leaving a kiss on his lips.

“I love you, Okkotsu Yuta." 

You press your foreheads together, as a quick paparazzo clicks a picture of the two of you.

{{fin.}}

a/n: thank you everyone for reading! I was able to power through the chapters and put everything out quickly. Hope you guys enjoyed the tale of Racer Yuta!

----> BONUS<----

You hold the headboard of your bed for support as you grin down at a very engaged Yuta, lost in your juicy womanhood, holding onto your thighs for dear life as you sit on his face. His enthusiasm as he suckles and bites your sensitive zones drives you crazy and you come all over his face for what seems the tenth time in the past three days. He just refuses to let you go whenever he visits you in your city. You have to nearly always put in an extra sick day to cater to his and your needs. The two of you look out onto a bustling city from your high-rise condo. You wonder how many people know that a world-class, champion racing driver is eating your brains out right above their heads. The thought makes you giggle shamelessly.

"Yuta, stop, already." you urge him, laughing between words, pulling at his hair to get him to stop.

"Nope, I can't." he admits, looking up at you, with lust filled eyes. "I only get so many days with you. Need to make the most of this time."

You roll your eyes at him, getting off of him, making him whine loudly.

"Patience, lover-boy." you tease him, turning around to sit on his abs. His abdominal muscles are so well defined that even merely sitting on them sends chills up your wussy.

"Time to give my mini some love." you say, smiling at the bulge forming in Yuta's sweatpants. You uncover it to see his valiant dick stand tall, after being ignored by both you and Yuta for so long.

"It got prettier from last time." you pout at it, examining it as you stroke it with love. It pulls out the prettiest groans out of Yuta.

"Y/N, you saw it yesterday." he complains. "When you said you wanted to bounce on it."

"Well, Yuta. You can't just eat me out for all of eternity. Your dick has needs." you shut him up and take him in your mouth, savoring its thickness. It's just like the first time you ever took him in your mouth. You run and tongue up and down his length as Yuta grabs a hold of your ass, holding on till he's moaning.

You lick at his slit, playing around with the pre-cum he's leaking. His cock is so violent, it beats around inside of your mouth, and you silence it by pushing it to the back of your throat, where it sits snugly.

Your nose pushes into Yuta's balls as you let your throat do the rest of the work and soon enough, Yuta is coming inside your mouth with a monstrous groan, leaving you with plenty of fluid to play around with.

When you finally pull off, mouth full of cum, you see that there is still some life in his dick. You turn out to face him and now sit on his dick, grinding back and forth till he becomes hard again.

Your cheeks stay swollen with loads of his cum and Yuta stares at your face in disbelief.

"You really my cum don't you?"

and you nod fervently.

"Swallow it."

You shake your head.

"God, Y/N.." he closes his eyes, leaning back and letting you ride him, feeling his dick prod at your insides, its outline clearly showing through your abdomen.

"Ah..." he moans out, finding a rhythm he likes and the two of you roll your hips together. You want to moan out so bad but your cum sits in your mouth, marinating. You want to make a mess out of it on Yuta's abs and lick it all off.

How you've waited so long to do so many things to Yuta.

Only, your moment gets interrupted by a rogue phone call. From your phone.

"Buh, ish ma day ff!" you say, your mouth full and unable to speak coherently.

Yuta picks up the call and sticks it between his shoulder and an ear, while grabbing and controlling your hips with both his hands. His messy black hair falls on his sweaty forehead and his lashes brush his cheeks as he talks to the caller in his fucked out voice.

"Who's this?"

"Y/N, oh, she's busy."

"Are we fucking? Seriously, Satoru? Nunya business!"

Gojo Satoru!? The shock at his question makes you accidentally swallow the cum and you almost cry out.

"Uh-huh. Cool, bye." Yuta says, eyeing your reaction and closing his eyes.

"Oh no, I swallowed it!" you complain to Yuta and he's barely listening, chasing his orgasm. Soon enough, the grip on your waist tightens and he's coming inside of you this time. His neck stretching back and his adam's apple bobbing in his wide throat.

When he finally regains his composure, he looks back at you to reply.

"You swallowed. Finally! Good job!"

"Yuta!" you pout.

"Aw, baby..." Yuta teases you. "There's always room to do more." he sees, pinching your perky nipples.

"Your interns ask about you, Gojo told me. He takes them to races, VIP passes whenever he's free. He's made them into Ferrari fans, alas." Yuta tells you.

"Ahem. They were promoted to full time employees after the feedback from the Summit." you correct him. "Plus, they know I'm fucking you every chance I get. That's what I'm up to." you say, sliding off his dick and falling into his arms, allowing him to continue playing with your tender breasts.

"You're all packed up for this weekend's Monaco Grand Prix, right? We leave in two days." Yuta reminds you, biting your lower lip and bursting into a smile.

"Of course, I'm looking forward to it." you tell him. The two of you stare at each other, drowning in each other's passion until you realize something.

"Oops almost forgot. I love you, Yuta."

Yuta blushes pink when he hears it. "You say that every ten minutes."

"Isn't that what I told you..." you remind him.

"I'm saying it every day." You place a tender kiss on his lips.

"Forever."

[songsofadelaide]

Hello! Recently read a few of your kn8 Soshiro x Reader fics and fell in love with your writing style. It's so lovely, and I really like your portrayal of him! If you're okay with requests, can you maybe write a Soshiro/female!Reader story where the two have a number of memorable chance meetings from childhood to adulthood, until they "officially" meet in the Defense Force? I'm lowkey obsessed with the idea of two people who meet as kids and are repeatedly separated and reunited during different stages of life, before reuniting for good as adults who can be together. Bonus points if the reader is Kafka's silly little sister!

Sorry if this is a lot, and thanks for reading it all!

I love your big brain, anon. The childhood friends trope is really at the top of everything for some reason! But soulmates, too? (Or something like that lol.) These are just a few of my favourite things to write.

Hope you enjoy this!

cw: (F) Reader/OC has a name in this fic, Hibino Mayari, and is six years younger than Kafka and one year younger than Mina. There may be some inaccuracy with the ages. Written with a generic (f) reader in mind. ✧ Mayari is the deity of the moon, night, war, revolution, equality, and strength in the Philippines. Since Kafka had a unique name, I thought I'd give his little sister one, too. Think of it as their mother being some kind of voracious reader and giving her children names they absolutely cannot find in souvenir shops. wc: 3.8k

✧ Stardust - Sakura Fujiwara

stardust

Lucky stars, a trick of the gods, destiny— you could call your meeting so many different things. Strings so intricately twined that you'd think it to be a single rope, raindrops from the same cloud falling into the same ocean, and shadows coming together as the sun reaches a point in the sky. There wasn't a single part of you that wouldn't recognise the soul that touched yours that fateful day.

What was it like to make a promise to someone? Your older brother promised you many things— sweets after school, a piggyback ride whenever you got tired of running after him, and taking you wherever you wanted. Such were the little sister privileges granted to you by your older brother Kafka.

In the wake of your home's destruction, you remember him making a promise to a girl— your next-door neighbour Mina, and how they both swore to rise above and become the coolest Defense Force Officer the world has ever seen. You wanted in on that promise, too, and Kafka agreed only because you were his younger sister, his only one in this world. And Mina agreed because there was no way she could refuse you and your eagerness.

"I want to be a Defense Force Officer, too!"

"Then let's race! Me, Mina, and Mayari! Let's see who becomes the coolest of them all!" 

Not long after making that promise, you were caught amid a Yoju attack that separated you from Kafka and your mother. You screamed and wailed for your older brother, for anyone at that point, only to be rescued by a lone swordsman who swept through the field with his single blade. Your nameless saviour brought you to the nearest evacuation centre, where you reunited with your family and the rest of your community. 

You only knew swordsmen from legends and anime and not even once in your life did you ever think you'd be rescued by one, but then you were. And you couldn't peel your eyes away from the older man, who was clearly flattered by how you followed him around the evacuation centre with your curious eyes. 

"Is there anything I can do for you, little one?"

"I—! I want to be a swordsman, too!"

He chuckled at your declaration, calling it an admirable intention, but the light in your eyes revealed the depth of your earnestness— a rarity for children like you who have lost nearly everything in your life— mostly due to Kaiju attacks. 

The old man in the familiar Defense Force uniform crouched down and held out his hand for a handshake with you. "Very well. If you wish to devote yourself to the way of the sword, you must be willing to sacrifice your existing way of life."

He scrounged a wrinkled sheet of paper and a pen and wrote down an address that your practised eyes could read. "Ho… shina?"

"That's correct. If you truly wish to learn more about swordsmanship, come to this place, and I will teach you all that our family knows." 

That little scrap of paper became your most treasured possession. After weeks of pestering your older brother to take you to that place, he eventually relented and allowed you a maximum of 30 minutes before he came to pick you up again. 

You were almost turned away from the dojo when the students mistook you for a lost child, but your saviour recognised you— and your eyes filled with hope. When you introduced yourself to him once more and reiterated your intention to learn the way of the sword, he acknowledged you with a deep bow, which you quickly imitated. 

"I have a son your age. He will be the one to teach you the most basic yet valuable lessons when it comes to swordsmanship," he said before gesturing at a boy in the same haori and hakama as him. "Soshiro."

Rumours about the high schooler Hibino Mayari and her incredible sword arm reached even the ears of her older brother in college. While you remained his adorable little sister for the most part, it was clear to Kafka that you had a gift for the sword you had to continue honing. From his estimation, you won't have any difficulty passing the Defense Force Entrance Exams, but that will depend on your overall combat power and affinity for firearms. 

At 23, he had already failed four times, while you had one more year before you could take it yourself. And while you didn't wish for your brother to lose hope, the way things were going for him did not bode well. 

You were both home for the weekend, Kafka with his can of beer in hand while you practised your swings with your bokken in your backyard. 

"Aniki," you started. "Mina nee-san will take the entrance exams later this year, right?" 

"Yeah. Wish her luck when you can," he told you. "Speaking of which, didn't you say your friend will be taking the exam, too?" 

"Shiro-kun has family in the Defense Force. Though I doubt he'd try to get in the force by family connections alone," you said with a smile. "It's been years since I last saw him, so I wonder if he's really going to take the exam this year like he said before."

As a child, you learned everything you could about swordsmanship under the tutelage of the age-old samurai clan, but after being assessed at the age of 13, the Hoshina patriarch declared you a shodan, an estimation which meant you already had a clear grasp of the basics of swordsmanship. 

"It's a pity they had to let you go just when you were getting good, huh?" Kafka remarked as he drank deep from his can of beer. 

"I know, but Shisho said Shiro-kun and I were quickly becoming big fish in a small pond and training with a single person for a long time would narrow our perspective, so we had to start training with others. At least that's what he told me," you replied to him as you rested your bokken on your stiff shoulder. "I'm glad the schools I went to had Kendo clubs with members of varying levels of strengths and skill, so I was able to make use of my knowledge while learning new things at the same time." 

"Oh, come on. You learned swordsmanship from an elite dojo. We both know you just wanted to show off— ow!" He said with a small snort, to which you replied by lightly kicking his shin. "Mayari!"

"Well, maybe I do want to show off a little," you huffed at your older brother. 

"They even gave you some tacky nickname, right? Crescent blade Mayari! Pfft!"  

You kicked his shin a bit harder this time. "Aniki! I didn't ask for that! My kouhais thought it was cool, so…"

"So you ran with it," Kafka nodded at you before gently kicking you back. You could tell from the way he looked at you that he kind of wanted to cry. "I am proud of you, Mayari."

That can't be helped, you told yourself. Aniki is always so honest with himself, after all. 

"Thank you, aniki. Don't go crying on me now. I'll always be your adorable little sister," you replied to him with a laugh and playfully batted your eyelashes at him. "Speaking of which, this adorable little sister of yours just saw this pretty dress in—"

"H-Hey! Don't get too ahead of yourself, Mayari!" 

"Aniki," you said to him with a smile. "I hope you know I'll always be rooting for you, too, so don't give up, okay? I'm sure Mina nee-san will be waiting for you— and me— when she passes the exam this year."

"Shiro-kun!" 

It was an endearing nickname that was even more endearing by the sweet way you said it. If he was being honest, Soshiro did not think much of you back then. For him, you were just a little girl his father invited to learn and train swordsmanship. You were different from him in the way flowers grew from the same bush. While they were equally tended to, some will grow larger than others and bloom more brilliantly, too. 

He likened you to a grafted plant— one attached to him by the roots. And brilliantly did you bloom, indeed. A wildflower that thrived from the same water and sunlight as he did. For him, it was only a matter of time until you bloomed in fullness and outgrew him, but that never happened because his father uprooted you to the quick— for growing at a rate he did not expect from someone like you. 

That, and he did not expect his sons to start fighting over you. And though you were one of his most excellent pupils, he didn't deem you worth the trouble his sons would stir if you did not permit them to tame you. 

You parted your place of learning in good faith and had nothing but gratitude for the Hoshina Family, but there were times you thought it was unfair. He will continue learning under the best of the best while you have to carry on by yourself… But you were more disheartened by the fact that you would not see him again. 

Soshiro was truly the best rival you could ever ask for. As you entered middle school and high school and razed through club after club and joined every tournament you could, you soon realised that no one else could ever come close to him— both in skill and in something else you couldn't quite put a finger on. You searched for him in every opponent you came across, only to be disappointed time and again that they were not even at your level. 

In your final year of high school, during your school's long-anticipated cultural festival, the drama club needed someone with your skill, and they made you the centrepiece of their performance by teaching you a sword dance that drew spectators to your graceful form. 

"She's a marvel."

For once in his life, Soshiro was glad to have let his curiosity win him over. He was glad he sighted you in your high school's silly-looking cultural festival poster— for never did he expect to see the most beautiful wildflower in full bloom, adorned with silk and grace that did little to conceal her thorns as she danced to the strong yet tender rhythm of an equally gorgeous piece of music played on a shamisen. 

That was his wildflower. 

When he came to see you after your performance, all you could say was his name. "Shiro-kun!"

And it sounded just as sweet as when he last heard it. 

"Are ya just dancin' now?"

"Of course not! I was just helping the drama club!" You retorted with a smile. "If you wish to challenge me, all you have to do is ask." 

Your wordless duel of wooden swords was akin to dance as well, both of you equally deft, your movements measured and graceful, almost like spinning before a mirror until your dull blades were pressed against each other's necks. 

"I see time has not dulled your skills. That's good."

"It looks like time has been incredibly good to ya, too," he said, a familiar glint of mischief in his wine-dark eyes. "You've gotten prettier, Mayari-chan."

"Hmm. Not exactly the words I was looking for, but good enough, I suppose," you shook your head at him before breaking out into a smile. "It's good to see you again, Shiro-kun."

Mina's meteoric rise to the rank of Division Captain did not surprise you. Ever since you were children, she had always been more focused on her goals compared to Kafka, who only desired the coolness associated with being a Defense Force officer. She vouched for your potential when you took the entrance exams and passed with the help of her commendation, though she reassured you herself that your own skills brought you there to where she was. 

And though you were subsequently assigned to a different division, she kept in touch with you as you both anticipated your older brother's arrival.

An arrival that never came. 

When you last phoned your home, it was only then you found out that Kafka had moved out and started working as a monster cleaner. It was a noble profession for you, of course, but you couldn't help but think—

—of how lonely your older brother must have been to have received rejection after rejection from something he had wanted to do all his life—

And it pains you to think that behind his smile when he congratulated you for passing the exams and becoming an officer was the sting of dismissal. 

When Kafka stopped calling to check in on you, you figured he might be busy with his job. Behind your stellar performance during missions was a strong sense of duty and a great fear of failure that allowed you to focus on the things you can control. You missed your older brother, but it was his choice to give up. 

However, you sensed a change in the wind after receiving a summon from the Captain of the Third Division out of the blue.

"Captain Ashiro called for you again, Mayari. I know she's always looking forward to seeing you in joint training, but doesn't she realise how stressful it is having to travel to Tokyo so often?" 

The Captain of the Fourth Division, Ogata Jugo, was a relatively relaxed man for the most part, but he was also incredibly insightful. He had no qualms about promoting you to a Platoon Leader despite your inclination to use swords in missions. He believes in allowing officers to use their own weapons of choice and that you would eventually use a gun when the situation calls for it. 

Captain Ogata trusts your skills, but he trusts your critical thinking even more. 

"I don't really mind all the travelling, Captain, sir," you replied to him with your usual cheer. Nagano to Tokyo wasn't a walk in the park but a three-and-a-half-hour car ride.

"Well, I do. You are my Platoon Leader, after all. You must defend this base when the situation arises," your captain said with a sigh. "I'm betting that Ashiro would do just about anything to have you transferred to her division."

"Nonsense, Captain. My place is here," you reassured him. "And while I do enjoy being the apple of her eye, I don't think I'll work well under the Third Division and its Captain."

"Why'd you think that?"

"Because Captain Ashiro would sooner lose herself in the battle than send me out," you said with a small shrug. "Sisterly instincts, I suppose. More importantly, I like working with you and our division, Captain, sir."

"You should tell that to her," your Captain chuckled.

"But for the record, Captain, I enjoy seeing her, too," you replied with an easygoing laugh. "I hope you continue to be lenient with me, sir."

"All right, all right. Go before I change my mind," Ogata stated as he shooed you away with a slow swatting motion. "And don't forget to bring me back some of that stuff you last brought."

You gave him a sharp salute and the same warm smile he enjoyed seeing on your face. "I'll be sure to bring home a bottle or two for you, Captain, sir!"

Tachikawa Base never failed to amaze you. You found it more of a marvel compared to Headquarters, seeing as it was at the centre of the busiest city in Japan, but it was a constant magnet of Kaiju attacks, too. 

The entrance exams concluded Tachikawa Base's busiest time of the year, and with fresh recruits to fill in the ranks, more joint training sessions would soon be set to foster a warm relationship and camaraderie among the different members of the Defense Force's Eastern Divisions. 

Mina received you at her office as per protocol, the one place where you could simply be friends and not Captain and subordinate. 

"Fourth Division Platoon Leader Hibino Mayari at your service," you stated your name with a sharp salute and dignity tied to your esteemed position. "It's good to see you again, Captain Ashiro, ma'am."

"It's good to see you well, Mayari-chan," the older woman saluted right back before offering you a handshake. "I'll have to thank Captain Ogata for permitting your visit this time again."

"I'll buy his clemency before I head back to Nagano, Mina nee-san," you said with a laugh. "How did the entrance exams go this year, by the way? I only heard from Captain Ogata that something… strange happened."

Mina squeezed your hand and motioned for you to sit next to her. "This year's exams were nothing short of strange, I'll tell you that. But there's something I want to show you, too."

Having the Division Captain herself guide you through the many halls and walls of her base meant you had to return many greetings and salutations from younger officers. Mina was evidently well-loved by her division and adored by the masses for her levelheadedness that calmed whatever panic struck them during Kaiju attacks. After what seemed to be fifteen minutes of walking, you finally arrived at the base training ground, where most of the recruits gathered for their routine drills. 

"One of these days, we'd like for you to visit again when we host the annual goodwill Kendo match," she stated, eyeing the state of her division's recruits from above the area's gate. 

"I'd be glad to take part in…" You answered her, only for her to give you a small smile as she pointed down at one of the Third Division's recruits.

Lagging behind their laps was one older man gasping for breath, while a younger man slowed his pace to keep up with him. 

"Aniki…?!" 

Kafka turned to the direction of that endearment like clockwork, only to find you and Mina curiously peering down at him from the gate while the rest of his cohort eventually outran him. 

"Mayari! And Mina, too!" 

"Another 30 laps for calling your superiors by their names, Officer Hibino," Mina shot back at him, to which he replied with a small groan of protest. "You can catch up with Platoon Leader Hibino once you're done with your drills and punishment."

You managed to laugh off your older brother's misfortune over his excitement at seeing you, but your amusement was swiftly replaced by the same kind of shock that came over Kafka when you saw yet another figure in the same sleek black uniform approach you and Mina.

"Captain Ashiro! I didn't expect to see you here today! I was told you have a guest…"

"Ah!"

"Eh?"

"Sh-Shiro-kun?!"

"Huh. So you're that Shiro-kun, Hoshina? Mayari-chan told us much about you when we were young," Mina mused aloud, though you knew from the small smile on her face that she sewed everything seamlessly. "What a small world we live in. To think that one of my oldest friends knows my Vice Captain." 

"I-I apologise for speaking out of turn, V-Vice Captain Hoshina!" You mustered a nervous salute directed at your childhood rival, now one of the Third Division's most prominent superior officers. "I-It's good to see you again, sir!"

"Fancy meeting you here, Mayari-chan. Or should I say Platoon Leader—"

"Fourth Division Platoon Leader Hibino Mayari at your service, Vice Captain, sir! I'm here at Captain Ashiro's invitation." 

Hibino? He thought to himself. Same as the stand-out candidate from this year's exams— "Wait a second, are you actually Kafka's sister?!"

"I hope my older brother hasn't been causing you any trouble, sir," you let out a nervous little chuckle. "Truth be told, I haven't spoken to him in the last few years and I did not expect to see him here at all. Mina nee-san— I mean, Captain Ashiro only informed me about this today."

"I see. Then you two must have a lot of catching up to do," he replied to you with a warm smile, to which Mina responded by patting him on his shoulder. 

"You two have a lot of catching up to do, too, wouldn't you agree, Hoshina?" 

"Well, I— It's just that Mayari-ch— I mean, I simply thought Platoon Leader Hibino would like to hear about her brother's exploits so far…?" 

"Make good use of your time while you're here, Platoon Leader Hibino. Seeing as Hoshina is here, too, you should discuss the goodwill Kendo match between our divisions as well."

"O-Of course, Captain Ashiro, ma'am!" 

She gave your shoulder a quick squeeze as well, before eventually whispering in your ear, "Kafka-kun and I will be waiting for you, so make sure you two catch up well."

As Mina disappeared back to the base's main building, you were left to watch how Soshiro conducted drills and training exercises with his division's recruits. Nearly everyone cheered for Kafka as he finished the last of his additional 30 laps around the training ground before they all shuffled back to the mess hall, you and their Vice Captain trailing them from behind.

"Anything on yer mind, Mayari-chan?"

"How is Shisho? I hope he's been well." 

"The old man's as stubborn as a fox, I'll tell ya that. I suppose I'll have to let him know that one of his most prized students made it here again."

"Does he still remember me?" 

"'Course he does, even though we only knew you as Mayari-chan. You're one of his most dedicated pupils, after all," Soshiro stated with a grin. "One time he said he regretted letting ya go. But I'm sure he'll change his tune when he finds out how much better you've become, both with a sword and with yer guns…"

"You think I've gotten better with just a glance?" You teasingly asked him. "The last we met, you said I only got prettier."

"Well, pardon me for noticing your face before everythin' else," he shrugged at you. "And I wasn't jokin' about that, either. You did get prettier."

"And now? I can show you how well I've grown. If you wish to challenge me, all you have to do is ask." 

Soshiro chuckled at your instigation, only for him to tell you with the most familiar glint of mischief in his eyes, "I think you're mistaken there, Platoon Leader. You're the challenger here."

"Of course, sir. How could I forget that I'm on your turf?" You said with a hearty laugh. "Shall we put on a show for your lucky recruits? It's not every day they see two blade masters battle it out."

Lucky stars, a trick of the gods, destiny— your meeting could be defined by so many different things. But one thing remained constant in your every coming together and parting…

"I'd like that!"

Rivals, friends, colleagues, lovers. The titles didn't matter much to you. This meeting once more proves you were meant to be part of Hoshina Soshiro's life in one way or another, just as he was meant to be in yours.

✦ Thank you for requesting! Nothing makes me happier than writing a request I know I can work with. 🍹 You can read more about requesting here

[stargirlfeyre]

The problem I have with the Valkyries friendship. PT 1

I wasn’t going to write this because I usually can’t be bothered to care about the friendship among these three but if their fans are so obsessed with over analyzing Feyre’s relationships…why can’t we?

One of the main reasons people love to say that the Valkyries are better than than IC is because they would never choose anyone over Nesta but the problems lies in the fact that…they have no one to choose over her.

Let’s break it down.

Gwyn has no one in her life right now. No family and no close friends outside of the Valkyries. I mean you can say that she’s friends with some of the priestesses but close friends? The same can be said for Emerie. She has a family but an abusive one. She is an outcast in her community, runs her shop alone, and like Gwyn has no friends outside of the Valkyries.

Their friendship with one another isn’t even treated as important as their friendship with Nesta. Because of this they look less like a trio and more like Nesta and Gwyn//Nesta and Emerie.If one of them is mad at Nesta who are they going to go to? The other person in their group who also is friends with Nesta and has loyalty towards her? Y’all say that Gwyn and Emerie would never put anyone over Nesta and does that include one another? Is their loyalty and friendship towards Nesta more important than the one they have with each other? In canon it sure is treated as such.

Praising the Valkyries because they would never put anyone above Nesta is not only a void point because they have no one to put above her, but it’s also reinforces the toxic view a lot of Nesta fans have when it comes to her relationships. They don’t want her to have friends, they want her to have followers. They want undying loyalty and turn a blind eye to the obvious shitty writing when it comes to Gwyn’s and Emerie’s relationships outside of Nesta because them lacking those relationships means that Nesta will always have that undying loyalty.

A problem that people have with the Valkyries is they aren’t their own characters when you really think about it. A lot of their characterization surrounds Nesta. And that’s why Nesta’s fans have zero problem with them. Whereas when it comes to the Inner Circle they are their own people before they are Feyre or Rhys’ friends. They have multiple people who are important to them instead of their lives just revolving around this one person. Their relationships with one another is equally as important as their relationships with Feysand.

Gwyn and Emerie are less characters and more like tools for Nesta’s healing journey. All confirmed when, after hearing about how Nesta abused her sister, Emerie of all people went on to say she’s absolved of any fault. Emerie, who is a victim of familial abuse herself, thought it was her place to forgive Nesta’s abuse towards other people. You genuinely want me to believe that some of the things these girls do weren’t written with the sole intention of healing Nesta?

They are not their own people. That’s why it’s easy for this fandom to self-insert onto Gwyn and blatantly ignore Emerie. They don’t have a big enough presence in these books to force you to pay attention to who they actually are. Without Nesta they kind of just fade into the background. You can hate or love members of the IC but at the end of the day you see them.

There’s also a lot to be said about their relationship from Nesta’s end and why she latched onto them…

[hamsternella]

Obsessive!Kenji Sato x Gn!Reader || Headcanons

tw: obsessive attitudes, violent behaviors, manipulation, minors DNI

From: Ultraman: Rising

A friend asked me to write something small about him, so here it is. It was quick and uncorrected, sorry😔

I really liked the movie. What do yall think??

GENERAL BEHAVIOR

Kenji is unbearable.

At the beginning of the relationship he was a nice guy, with a smile and a dazzling look.

But as the months passed, he began to transform into an unrecognizable man.

A scary person, if you were honest with yourself.

Forget about late nights out,

Forget about turning off your cell phone,

And above all, forget about your alone time.

I mean, why would you want to be alone?

What do you say, excuse me? 'Stress' and 'depression'? Discomfort, you say!

Kenji is handsome, wealthy, and has property at your mercy that you can walk around if you are bored and 'depressed'.

In fact, what the heck is that 'depression' stuff?

Kenji starts monitoring your moods and health to keep you up to date with routines to de-stress.

He has little patience, so you'd better be obedient.

Kenji wants the best for you. He doesn't understand what your attitude is about; but he's willing to give you as much love and understanding as he can…

... unless your needs begin to interfere with his needs.

In that case it will be impossible to make him see reason.

SPECIFIC

Kenji is the kind of partner who gets angry easily when you don't give him attention or if you don't understand his jokes. This guy has a short fuse. There comes a point in the relationship where you feel like you're walking on eggshells; and eventually it's hard to even enjoy the quiet moments without thinking that all of a sudden he'll be upset about something, taking it out on you.

Still, Kenji is not the kind of person who is violent to a fault. He would never hurt you physically - he'd rather be dead than have to hurt you that way. Instead, his way of handling you is with words: he manipulates you emotionally and psychologically all the time, or when he thinks it is necessary to keep you in line.

He knows all too well how vulnerable you are because of your mental state - depression and anxiety eating you up inside. So, in addition to not understanding, or not wanting to, he uses it to scare you or make you feel guilty; as well as responsible for his emotions and needs.

Other than that, Kenji is a person who likes to provide for his partner. At your disposal, if you have been good, you will have money, constant outings, as much as you want them, and purchases of all kinds in his name. Kenji also prefers to have you close by so he can easily monitor your activities; so you can live next to him and in various properties throughout his travels around the world; or in any type of home you wish. He is willing to fulfill your fantasies.

And of course, you also have to be willing to comply with his.

One of Kenji's dreams is to be able to form a strong and united family with you. He wishes to have you happy, with one or two children included. At the beginning of his relationship with you he was only looking to satisfy that voracious hunger he felt when he saw you. But as the years went by, he began to desire you with a strength that went beyond something as banal as that; and his future plans, each and every one of them, seemed to be tied to settling down and starting a family.

What could be more beautiful than to have you at his complete mercy? To have no one else by your side, and to depend on his strength, love and affection forever. Kenji is willing to sacrifice anything if he can, not only keeping the world at peace by being Ultraman, but also protecting you from yourself; and giving you something that will force you to stay by his side if the time comes when you decide to leave.

He can be very good, especially if it's for you. You just have to be obedient and do what he tells you; life is easier if you don't have to make decisions, right? Just relax, stay at home watching his games, and when you least expect it, you'll be back in his arms. You don't have to make any effort: the world will be safe thanks to Ultraman, and in the privacy of your home, you will be safe from that same world and your boring old reality thanks to Kenji.

NSFW

Thanks to the training, Kenji has a good rhythm and can stand enough to take the time to satisfy you in everything you want. He can adapt to many of your fantasies, as long as they don't involve having to hurt you too much physically.

When giving orals he prefers to receive them. He is not a person who has a lot of experience, to be honest, and that partly embarrasses him. All he wants in the end is for you to have enjoyed it, but he knows he's going to lose out if he has to put his mouth down there; so he prefers to have you on your knees, and he'll take care of the bare minimum with his own mouth before using his hands.

Anal sex? A thousand times. He loves to use your ass; he usually touches it even if you're in the living room, watching TV, or if he catches you off guard. He just rubs it with his hands or caresses it deeply with a couple of fingers as he feels the heat welling up in his lower belly. The first time you offered it to him was quite a show: the guy couldn't keep the excitement in his eyes, and it was hard for the session not to end quickly because of the pressure that threatened to make him cum immediately.

Virgins? He doesn't really care. Why would he be worried about you being one or not? To Kenji, what you did or didn't do before him doesn't matter. The only important thing is what happens when you're with him… which is funny, because he's got you under control all the time. But yeah, more or less like that.

CNC? Definitely not. He loves the idea of having you at his mercy, of course, but he doesn't like those shady fantasies at all. He worries about doing you a lot of harm, and although he himself has even admitted to having similar thoughts about you, he finds it difficult to put them into practice for the same reason.

Aftercare? You can be sure of one thing with Kenji: after any sex session, comes the best aftercare of your life. Get ready to relax in his arms, with a torrent of kisses or caresses and sweet words, barely understandable between his tired murmurs. He knows where to touch you to have you surrendered to his charms. Sleeping next to him, at least when he is in a good mood, is the glory.

[artsekey]

Hey op, art therapist here, responding to your comic about your first ever session in therapy-

And oh my *GOD*- I am SO sorry that was your first experience. I’m absolutely dumbfounded the therapists behavior. And to find out in notes she was 15 minutes late?? I sincerely hope you have found or find a better therapist. That is absolutely ridiculous

I see a therapist and my therapist LOVES when I come in with a list of things and reasons why I think it’s going on. As a therapist- i know it helps you develop better self awareness when you write down what’s going on in the moment to help reflect on it (as someone with ADHD its primarily to help me remember lol.) So that initial response from that therapist was super weird and to say “it’s not my process???” For insight- UM!!!?!? WHAT’!?!? THATS YOUR JOB IS TO GIVE INSIGHT!?!?

As a therapist I’m so upset for you that’s just so ridiculous. You coming in knowing exactly what you wanted and with everything ready is honestly every therapists dream. It’s okay to not have a goal yet or ever- but it just shows how “on it” you are and how you want to be an active member in your treatment. Good on you op seriously.

Sorry to rant in your ask- I just fuckin love my job so much and seeing other therapists fuck around like this makes me livid. Keep doing you op! I hope you found/find a better therapist!! You got this!!

Thank you for this! Honestly, I'm really glad I posted that comic. I'd been thinking about going for years just to "tidy up", as it were-- I firmly believe that therapy can be good for anyone, no matter the scope of the problem. A lot of people have encouraged me to keep looking, and that's largely why I think I will-- It was a lot for me to make and go to this appointment, and because I have no other perspective on therapy, the whole experience reaffirmed my suspicions that what I want to work on might be "too small" to bother with (and/or too niche). I really can't overstate how her last comment about the fact that I put my needs aside contributed to a "net good" would've obliterated me a few months ago!

I'm not going to get into the weeds about it because at that point it's personal, but the comics honestly don't do it justice; it was like she took every one of my concerns, ignored them in favor of what she thought was the direction we needed to go in, blew past every "exit" sign I put on the road to get us back on track. It was infuriating.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Dissecting is just a hobby of his

barbie dolls: Rosekiller x you

word: 1.1k

summary: ppl spread rumors about you and your boyfriends and the skittles discuss it

warnings: pandora and evan are siblings, regulus goes fucking rabid for gossip he loves gossip, barty and evan are i wanna say raunchy but i also dont, they’re barty and evan ykwim? oh jesus my joints hurt, evan is into dissecting things, barty has a love hate realationship with chess, dorcas is fed up with her friends, skeeter mentioned, a tiny bit of making out and then insinuation that they leave to bang

You quite enjoyed cuddling with your boyfriends in the commonroom. Granted you mostly just cuddled with Evan seeing as Barty couldn’t sit still for longer than seven seconds. Evan had your legs pulled over his lap with his nose pressed to the side of your face. Regulus was nearby in an armchair, reading his newest book and muttering when it didn’t pan out the way he wanted. Barty was investigating his chess set. A week ago while you three were on a date Barty mentioned that he hates how chess looked and worked. It was an odd thing to say seeing as he spent a good portion of his time on the game. His complaints seemed to spark inspiration in himself because within minutes he was scribbling away on the back of his homework designing the “better chess”, his words. Barty kept flicking his wand at the board before turning back to his notes and writing something down. You didn’t see anything happening but you were confident in Barty to accomplish his chess dreams.

Eventually, Pandora and Dorcas came back from studying in the library. Dorcas huffed, flinging herself onto the commonroom couch and dropping her bag onto the floor. Pandora picked up Dorcas’ feet, settling on the couch with them in her lap. You frowned at Dorcas’ exhausted state. Pandora opened her magazine, holding it in front of her face.

“Did the books bite back?” Evan asked. Dorcas snapped her head to glare at him.

“I told you they do, you guys never listen to me. Oh, Barty’s off his rocker again, man fuck you guys.” Barty muttered, mocking Regulus’ voice. You gently knocked Barty with your knee in sympathy.

“I do not sound like that,” Regulus muttered, turning his page more aggressively than before. Barty glared at him. You diverted Barty’s attention back to you as you knocked your knee again.

“It’s okay baby, you have all the time in the world to get your chess game right.” Barty snarled at you, turning back to the board. Dorcas pointed at Evan, you imagined smoke coming out of her ears.

“You and your freaky little partners really need to stamp out the rumors circulating the school,” Dorcas said, huffing and flinging her head back onto the pillow. Pandora dropped her magazine down, meeting your eyes immediately.

“They are kinda getting out of hand. I’m hearing things about my kin that I don’t really want to hear.” Pandora added, grimacing at the memories. Evan groaned next to you, ducking his face behind your shoulder. Regulus hummed.

“I heard you three got caught with your pants down in the headmaster’s office.” Regulus set his book down the second he caught a whiff of gossip, leaning forward to drop his rumor.

“I heard we all detention for giving each other handies in the back of potions,” Barty muttered. You pointed at him.

“See people just talk, they’re going to make up crazy stuff so they can get a kick out of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if this had Skeeter all over it. They should take away her school newspaper privileges. “ Evan nodded against you.

“Though Barty did offer to give us handies in the back of divination.” Barty spun around at Evan mentioning his name. Pandora grimaced and turned her head away from the conversation. Dorcas sat up to pull her braids over one shoulder before settling back down.

“That is just nasty,” Dorcas muttered, smacking her lips like it left a sour taste in her mouth.

“They can’t even get their facts straight.” You whispered. Evan hummed, knocking his nose to your cheek in approval.

“I heard that Barty was drawing raunchy pictures of you both in the margins of his classwork,” Regulus said, an evil grin pinching at his cheeks. You turned to Barty. He was frozen like if he moved he’d get caught. His eyes flickered around as he waited for someone else to talk. You kicked Barty in the side, laughing your way through his name.

“You said you’d stop doing that,” Evan muttered under his breath, glaring at Barty.

“It's not like I turned them in. Sorry, I got bored in class and thought of my lovers. You guys suck ass.” Barty said, rolling his eyes and tossing his chess piece down.

“It's one thing to think of your lovers, it's another to think of them naked and draw it out,” Dorcas said, making Pandora stand up altogether. Pandora stalked out of the room without a goodbye, deciding the conversation was enough for her.

“They weren’t fully naked.” You and Evan both groaned at Barty’s response. Regulus cleared his throat.

“I also heard that people saw Evan sketching out the muscular system and when someone asked what he was drawing he said ‘my partners’ with zero context.” Evan nodded at Regulus.

“That one is actually true.” Evan clairfied.

“you drew my muscular system?” You asked. Evan nodded. You cooed and gently pecked Evan. “I'm flattered.”

“Because of that interaction, people also said Evan dissects you both,” Regulus added. You hummed.

“Well, I think he would if he could. If it didn’t kill us, he would.” Barty muttered, flinging himself back to rest against Evan’s legs. Evan dropped his hand to gently play with Barty’s hair.

“I do give you full permission to dissect me after I die though.” You said, turning to Evan. Evan’s jaw dropped open, staring at you with wide eyes.

“You mean it?” You nodded, smiling at him. Evan leaned forward. ”Love it when you talk dirty.” You grinned meeting Evan’s lips. He pulled you against him more, if it’s even possible.

“See and that’s why you bitches never my extra biscuits at dinner.” You heard Dorcas say. You ignored her, pushing our tongue past Evan’s lips. His breath hitched just enough for you to hear. You pushed back against him. Evan’s hand made it to your shirt, gripping the fabric roughly. You heard a sigh come from the floor. You slide one hand up to the back of Evan’s neck.

“Here I am, sitting here all alone and unkissed.” You pulled back at Barty’s voice. You looked down to see Barty staring up at you with his puppy eyes. You leaned down towards his face.

“Oh no fuck that. Go somewhere else right now or I'm hexing you all.” Dorcas said. You looked over at her to see her covering her eyes with both hands. You glanced at Regulus to find him `all the way across the commonroom, hiding behind his book. He peeked over the edge, shaking his head at you. You shrugged.

“Gladly.” You quickly reached out and took Barty by his hand. He stood up as fast as he could, tossing his wand onto his chess mess. You walked towards the stairs with Barty behind you. You glanced back to make sure Evan was following. Sure enough, Evan was right behind you. He smacked Barty’s ass on the way up the stairs, leaving you both in the dust. You quickly caught up, dragging Barty behind you, on the way to the dorms.

[reysdriver]

A Grandmaster of Sorts | J.P

Your husband James falls victim to Harry's new obsession around the game rock, paper, scissors — dad!james x mom!reader fluff

warnings: none :)

words: 0.9k

a/n: this is based on something that actually happened at a family reunion last week, I just HAD to write about it because it was maybe the cutest thing ever, so enjoy!!

Harry strode into the kitchen with a goal. You weren’t sure what that goal was, but you were excited to find out. He stopped next to the table where you and James were enjoying some tea and he tugged gently on the knee of your husband’s trousers.

“Can we play rock, paper, scissors?” Harry asked his dad. 

That was his new obsession. You taught your son how to play the other day when he told you he was bored when there was nothing to do during a heavy thunderstorm. Ever since, he’s been asking you to play his new favourite game with him.

James put down his teacup and turned to look at his son. 

“Rock, paper, scissors, eh?” James said with cartoonish condescension. “I’m down for a few rounds, but you should be warned, Haz, that I’m the master of that game.” 

James moved around in his chair to face your son, cracking his knuckles obnoxiously to make Harry laugh. 

“You’re on, son.”

They held out their hands, but paused before actually playing. They put on their best game faces and tried analysing each other to guess what their first move would be. 

They both nodded, feeling confident enough to start a game. They lifted their hands and repeated the name of the game, then made their moves. 

A draw. Both hands were positioned with open palms facing the ground. Since paper and paper means a tie, they went again. 

Another draw. Both hands in rock position this time. 

Harry laughed at the situation even though James kept his stoic expression. 

“Where’d you learn all this? The skills must be in the genes, I bet.”

The little boy shook his head happily and pointed at you. “No, Mummy taught me!”

“Well, she must have taught you all my tricks. That’s definitely how you got to my exact skill level.” James proclaimed. “Let’s keep going, I’m gonna win this time.”

Your husband held out his hand, ready to start another match, but your son held out his hands, asking James to pause. 

Harry was doing a poor job at hiding a mischievous grin, so you paid attention to what he had to say. 

“We should try to tie again.” The boy suggested. “We should both do paper.”

James obviously knew what his little boy was plotting, but he didn’t dare show it. He just nodded along as he pretended to mull over the idea. 

“Yeah, we should do that. Then we can match, and you can be just like the great James Potter. I like the sound of that, Haz.”

They agreed on that little plan and then started the next round. Big shocker, Harry betrayed James and threw up scissors, defeating your husband’s move of paper. 

Harry burst out into a fit of adorable giggles as James looked at him with a pretend expression of shock. His jaw practically on the floor and his eyes were full of pain over what just happened. 

“I win, Daddy!” Harry exclaimed after his laughter subsided. 

“Good job, baby!” You congratulated your boy. 

“You tricked me! I demand a rematch.” 

Harry held out his hand for another game, but he wasn’t starting just yet. 

“What if we tied again? We could both do paper.” He suggested, that grin making a reappearance. 

“Are you going to trick me again?” James asked, eyes wide as he looked at Harry. 

“I promise I won’t. I just want it to be another tie.”

James nodded, pretending he trusted his son even after that first double-cross. He agreed to one more round under the pretence that it would be a draw once more. 

But lo and behold, Harry put up another pair of scissors, defeating James. Somehow, James looked even more flummoxed this time, but Harry was just as happy.

“It seems like you aren’t really the king of this game, my love.” You told your husband with a shrug.

James told you that he’d win next time, and the pair resumed their battle. 

You sat and watched Harry pull the same tricks on his father for several more rounds, James keeping up the charade of being shocked at his son’s plays, and Harry finding it absolutely hilarious every single time. 

Eventually, Harry proclaimed that he had simply won too many games to keep going, so he wanted to play by himself in his room. Before he walked off, you kissed him on the forehead and told him you’d bring him a special snack as a prize for winning so much. 

“Harry’s got winning in his blood.” You said to James, standing up from your seat. “Unfortunately, it seems like it comes from my side.”

James stood up right after you. He walked over to the counter where you were preparing the ingredients for Harry’s snack and wrapped his arm around your waist. 

“I know, he’s a champion.” James sighed. “I don’t even think I can break his heart by playing to my full potential.”

There was a quiet moment where the only sound in the room was the small knife slicing through the fruit and against the cutting board. 

With his free hand, James nicked a piece and tossed it in his mouth before you could say anything. Then your husband spoke again. 

“I think I’ll have to start teaching him chess and then have Remus avenge me.”

[erinwantstowrite]

hi!! first off i just want to say i love LOF and i think it really stands out in this niche genre of “spiderman in gotham”, its my absolute favourite fic rn and im loving the long chapters and dynamics between characters :)

for my question, i wanted to know if you ever considered writing any portions of peters past. specifically when he was “Parker”, an informant for the avengers. it sounds like a really interesting story and i’d love to know more about it, no pressure tho ^^

thank you so much!! I do plan on writing more about it. I honestly want to do a prequel,,,

I have some of it written actually. It was called It's called "Technically Not a Lie (Just Omitting Information)" and what is hilarious about that is it's only 27,000 words right now. I haven't touched that fic in forever because I just... had all of the information written down and the planning, and I got into Batfam and was like "Let's just write a little about this" and we can all blame @alighterwood for where we are now LMFAOOO

Thing is, I never expected LoF to get so popular, which is why it was posted first. I was like "I'll just make sure as much as I can that LoF is clear about his past so anyone who isn't me can read it and be fine." And now that we're here, I'm like "...that might be important."

I think it would be fun to have a prequel so more people can see the dynamics of Peter's world from before LoF in a much clearer light.

I kind of wanna shed a little light on how this prequel would go:

He ran from his last foster house at 12 years old, and he's year years old in this fic. In that time, he has been determined to make a life for himself all on his own, as well as help people as Spider-Man. He has no idea that his personality made people trust him so much. He's only on the street for about a year by the time the story starts, but "Parker" is very much intertwined with people. People just know him, he's the kid that the other kids go to for help. Even without Spider-Man (who, at this point, has only just gotten a proper suit and people actually realize he's not a cryptid), Parker manages to help people.

That's why the Avengers end up talking to him. Kids are going missing in Queens and show up dead- but most of them are the homeless population. They think it has something to do with people trying to make a knock-off super solider serum, and during their investigation, everything comes back to "That Parker Guy." Not in a bad way- everything has nice things to say. One kid even says they'll only talk to them if Parker vouches for them.

Turns out, Parker is a 13 year old and a fucking genius. I mentioned in LoF chapter 1 about it a little bit, and here and there it was mentioned. Peter gives the Avengers a real run for their money the way he does for the Batfam. Except it's ten times worse because he hasn't gone to therapy and is on his own, yknow?

So Bucky and Steve run across Peter (who is doing his own investigation into the missing kids as both Parker and Spider-Man) and that conversation ends with Peter going "Look behind you!" and sprinting in the opposite direction.

Sam and Banner are the ones that really track Parker down and have the first contact with him, and from there, he becomes their informant. Of course, he's also lying to their faces. Swears that he has a mother waiting for him and that he's just really good friends with these people. And people have lied several times to their faces for Peter, going with the lie, which muddies the waters about what is and isn't the truth.

From there, the rest is history. Tony thought he was just viewing Peter like he was a puzzle to figure out, and is truly shaken to his core when he realizes how much he cares about the little shit. When Peter gets kidnapped by the people making the knock off serum, they go looking for him. And Peter ends up having a home :)