#or suffer the same journey as me

[oogaboogaspookyman]

So this turned into a vent somehow!

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Asunder

slow-paced high fantasy

a woman who has a contract with an eldritch entity allowing her to see the dead & survives by taking various jobs

when a job searching for stranded smugglers in a cave goes wrong, she ends up with the soul of a dying stranger bound to her shadow

along with a scholar and her old childhood friend, they travel to his home country to find a way to unbind him and save them both

dark fantasy world with gods, demonic entities, arcane magic, and semi-sentient beasts used as transport

[professorjirt]

listen it’s none of my business but when you say “Bilbo would have been better for taking the Ring” and then state “Frodo’s character was mishandled” I think maybe you like the Lord of the Rings inside your head more than the one actually written 💀 as if it wasn’t stated multiple times both in the text and by Tolkien himself why Frodo was the Ringbearer. Pleeeeeaaaase PLEEEEAAASE stop giving me gray hairs and take an interest in the text you read and it’s deeper meanings beyond power scaling characters, favoritism and finding the “most efficient way to take the ring to Mordor”. The debates about who should have taken the Ring are the exact same as “they should have flown the eagles to Mordor” except it’s spoken by people who genuinely are avid fans of the books and movies.

[martianbugsbunny]

trying to get a diagnosis for ur GI issues is like...oh, you're having GI problems? let's give u some medicines that will make them worse while we try to figure it out.

[wishful-seeker]

I would like to see more people talk about how jobs treat disabled employees.

I used to prep, wash dishes, and cook at mellow mushroom. I had chronic pain that wasn't NEARLY as bad as it is today, but it was still very debilitating. I told my employer "i cannot stand more than 4 to 6 hours. I CANNOT do shifts longer than this due to my illness." And even though i made my boundaries VERY clear, everyday i worked it was 8 hours at the least and 10 or 12 at the most. I would go up to my manager and say "look i really need to leave, my shift is over, my chronic pain is killing me." And he'd say "we really need to here, you HAVE to push through." And so i did, and after one, ONE month of that job my crps got incredibly worse to the point where i could no longer walk my dog around the block which was .5 miles. I quit, and that was FOUR years ago, and ever since that day I HAVE BEEN BEDRIDDEN AND HAVE TO USE A WHEELCHAIR. It is my biggest regret in life.

My best friend who has seen my whole journey has recently developed undiagnosed chronic pain, and she is in the EXACT same scenario i was 4 years ago. Busting her ass at a pizza place with extreme pain that hurts her so much she tells me "im in so much pain i don't even feel like a person." She doesn't feel LUCID. And her manager and coworkers are saying the same thing "if you don't help us you will let us down, we'll be in the shit."

That job thats hurting you isn't fucking worth it. I promise you no money is worth losing all your physical abilities and never getting them back. Your coworkers and boss do not give a shit about you, so don't you dare suffer for them. They will never understand your struggle and they will never try. They truly think being understaffed is worse than whatever pain you experience. They would rather you permanently damage yourself than inconvenience them. FUCK THEM. DON'T FUCKING DO IT!

[eimearkuopio]

I don't think I ever had a problem with serving in Heaven. It was serving in Hell and being told I wasn't there that was the problem.

[akajustmerry]

for over a year i've been seeing palestinians campaigning for funds for their survival across social media. i see Palestinians in tumblr notes, twitter replies, youtube comment sections, tiktoks, instagram, etc. there's no social media i regularly use where i haven't seen multiple posts a day from Palestinians asking for help and to be heard. of course, i share and donate what i can. but what gets me is that if I am seeing posts every day then so are the millionaires and billionaires and politicians with the power to end their suffering...and they don't!!!!!

it makes me sick. according to forbes there are over 2700 billionaires in the world with a combined wealth of trillions. it would take less than even 1% of that to fill the gofundmes of Palestinians trying to rebuild their lives. yet the majority of money in these gofundmes is from ordinary folks scrounging spare change. its heartening in a way to watch so many with relatively little pool our resources to help others. but it also makes me so angry because i know there are people with more money than anyone in history seeing the same faces and gofundmes and are doing nothing.

so i'd really appreciate it if you could all help me spotllght Hani Alanqar's campaign. Hani is @haniyassersposts, is only 26, and currently sheltering in a school in Gaxa with his young siblings. He needs 25k to escape the genocide with his sick mother and father and has so far only raised 5k. His campaign is vetted #5 here. let's keep doing what we can to help until Palestine is free.

[longing-for-rain]

Sometimes I think about exactly how powerful Zuko’s story as an abuse victim is and I just have to stop and tear up for a minute.

Just let it sink in that at 13 years old, Zuko’s father mutilated him in front of an audience and told him he was worthless and unwelcome until he completed an impossible mission. Nobody stepped in to help him. Most onlookers thought he deserved it, and even Iroh was too afraid of Ozai to challenge him in Zuko’s defense.

Zuko went on for years believing Ozai was right, and didn’t recognize what happened to him as abuse. He thought his banishment and suffering were his own fault because something was wrong with him, and that it was his duty to change to become worthy again.

Then this scene? Absolutely incredible.

Zuko’s whole journey leads up to this confrontation, where he not only recognizes that he holds no responsibility for the abuse inflicted on him; he confronts his abuser and tells him he was wrong to treat him that way, that he doesn’t owe his abuser anything.

And not only that, Zuko also tells Ozai that he sees how he’s hurting the rest of the world the same way he hurt him, and vows to stop him. That’s literally so powerful, especially watching this as someone who once felt as broken and alone as Zuko once did. His story is everything to me.

[dreamchasernina]

So I had to stop on episode 6. Gonna continue watching tonight. I just have one thing to say so far. People think a good adaptation is the one that follows the story of the original. It’s not. It’s the characters. The characters are the ones that made the original so good. And none of them are as fleshed out here. You cannot seriously tell me the katara you see in the original is the one you see in the live action.

The writers decided to take the struggle and the growth of the characters away. I’m on episode 6. So far, Aang had everything come so easy to him, he didn’t struggle at all. Kyoshi fought for him at Kyoshi island. He enters the spirit world so easily, he finds Roku so freaking fast, he immediately knows Hei Bai is the spirit of the forest, out of nowhere. He learns absolutely nothing through those 6 episode. I could talk for hours about how that scene with Gyatso was a cop out. Why should their main character suffer right? He shouldn’t. So they just make up a scene where Aang meets Gyatso and he just outright tells him there’s nothing he could have done so he shouldn’t feel guilty.

The OG never had that scene. Because the OG knew the audience was smart enough to realize it themselves. There was nothing Aang could have done if he hadn’t run away, he would have died. But Aang needs to realize this himself, he needs to confront his feelings, learn from his mistakes, forgive himself and move on. But these days, writers don’t want their characters going through a journey, nope, the characters are just perfect, from the beginning to end.

Same said for Zuko. The writers apparently decided to make him softer, have higher morals, not as angry or determined, because that would make Zuko complex and interesting. He was good at heart in the OG show too, but he was spoiled and angry and violent. He’s none of that here, he’s gentle and respectful to everyone and just wants to capture the avatar, but not too much though. Zuko doesn’t even give everything he has to capture Aang, he doesn’t hire pirates, he doesn’t hire June himself (Iroh has to convince him to do it), he doesn’t follow Aang into the fire nation, you don’t feel his desperation, his determination, just how much he wants to go home. How could his journey feel interesting when we don’t see the dramatic shift in his character? The most interesting character in the show is not as ineteresting when he doesn’t go from a spoiled angry hurt teenager to an honorable smart and compassionate young man.

Yes, the story is fine, the visuals are nice, but it’s all very surface level. Everything is just flat.

[bilal-salah0]

Displacement

Do not take this word lightly; it carries feelings of oppression, despair, and deep frustration. Behind it lies immense pain, a heavy burden of responsibility, and the agonizing choice between taking a step that could cost you and your family’s lives or staying where you are — a decision that might come at the same cost.

Leaving one’s home by force is a harrowing test of resilience. It’s difficult even for inanimate objects to be uprooted, let alone for people who have once tasted the comfort of stability.

And as for living in a tent? This is a bitter reality, one whose weight is only understood by those who have experienced its harsh details firsthand. In the tent, you lose the sense of safety, feeling as though life around you has come to a standstill, leaving you suspended in a place of fear and uncertainty.

The family of Asmaa Ayad is one of those who have endured the bitterness of displacement and the hardships of tent life. They desperately need your support and solidarity in this difficult time, as they face dangers from every side.

@asmaayyad2

With your compassion and support, we can alleviate their suffering and give them hope for a dignified and stable life. Be a helping hand for them on this difficult journey.

@ot3 @mangocheesecakes @good-old-gossip @schoolhater @dragon-master-kai @prinnay @neptunerings @paper-mario-wiki @newsfrom-theworld @jezior0

@turian @sylvianritual @brokenbackmountain n @dirhwangdaseul @appsa @postanagramgenerator

@pcktknife @heritageposts @omegaversereloaded

@theinconvenientlifestyle @punkitt-is-here @officialspec @transmutationisms

@northgazaupdates2

[xshadowdelta]

FORMER MANAGER

PART 4: Like a tulip.

Kazuha x Male Reader (4K length)

Your hands were gripping the steering wheel of the car tightly, you were still in disbelief at everything that was happening, as if some divinity up there was playing with you for fun, and its enjoyment involved seeing you suffer every fucking moment of the day.

The red light of the traffic light forced you to brake and stop the car for a few seconds. You looked out of the corner of your eye towards the passenger seat, there she was, sitting looking out the window while the fingers of her hands played between them, showing a clear sign of nervousness. Kazuha Nakamura had become, without foreseeing it, the biggest headache of your entire life.

It's not that you had gotten used to sexual encounters with your former Iz*One members, but after what had happened in the last few days, you wouldn't have been surprised if a few more had arisen or even were going to arise in the future, since they seemed to be competing for you or something, something you hadn't been able to figure out yet.

But this totally escaped logic and compromised you enormously, you had in your car an idol whom you had never had under your tutelage, whom you did not know at all, and who had made you an irrational request, to say the least. 

“Can you have sex with me the same way you have sex with Chaewon unnie?”

That phrase kept echoing inside your head. Despite your attempt to hide that 'professional opinion' session, it seemed that Kazuha had perfectly realized what you had done in that practice room.

You didn't even have time to make an excuse or a lie, you had been hunted in such an obvious way that denying it would only complicate this situation even more.

Before you could realize it and without even having accepted her request, you were already leaving the Hybe compound, but with more company than the one you entered with, thanking the gods that your company vehicle had completely opaque window glass.

Neither of you had spoken a single word during the journey, which made the atmosphere feel even more tense and heavier than it would normally be. You wanted to start a conversation or ask a question, but the words just wouldn't come out of your mouth.

“Turn right on that street.” She commented, pointing her finger in the right direction.

And this was another big problem: your destination place. You had really gotten into the car without a fixed direction in your mind. Should you take an idol to your house? Was that right? And what would happen if someone saw you on the street and treacherously took a photo? Could it be camouflaged as part of a television program? Was a hotel suitable? You didn't believe it, but if so, it must be one suitable for celebrities, something you couldn't afford.

You parked the car, following another signal from the girl, in one of the free spots and got out, going around it to reach the passenger door, doing a complete sweep of the area, and opening the door once there was not a single living being. in your range of vision.

Kazuha quickly left and, taking some keys out of her bag, opened the door of one of the buildings, giving you way and successfully completing the first checkpoint.

He called the elevator, and you both went up, still in pure silence. You looked at her through the elevator mirror automatically, she looked back at you through the mirror and blushed, she quickly looked away.

She left in terror when the elevator opened its doors again, yes, taking one of your hands, practically dragging you after her. Your nerves increased when you felt the softness of her hand, wasn't it crazy? Now you were behaving as if you were still a teenager going through puberty.

You entered the interior of one of the apartments, which looked large and spacious from the inside despite only seeing the hall for the moment. "Where are we?” You heard your own voice for the first time in a long time, wondering why she had brought you to that place.

“It's LE SSERAFIM's bedroom.” She answered, taking off her shoes.

Knowing where you were scared you to death, you were in unstable territory. Stepping into that apartment had to be the closest you're going to get to a war camp, with too many people who could come and go at any moment and catch you in the middle of the action.

“The rest of the members are very busy and won't come until the evening, and our staff doesn't usually barge in without warning.” It was certainly relaxing to know that, but still, your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest at any moment. Kazuha unexpectedly took your hand again and dragged you down the main hallway of the apartment, passing by the living room and the kitchen until you entered one of the bedrooms.

The bedroom itself was quite simple, some large beds pushed together, a small desk with a chair decorated with clothes and various junk on top, and a closet built into the wall. You diverted your gaze to the corners and blind spots of the room in search of possible cameras, it wouldn't be the first time that after recording one of those home realities they forget to remove them.

The girl was quick to turn on the light in the room and close the window despite it being broad daylight, seeking to create a more intimate and safe environment.

You turned around, looking around at the entire bedroom, paying special attention to the pile of clothes scattered on the desk chair. She noticed this and, embarrassed, ran there to put all those clothes in the closet in a disorderly manner.

“Sorry, Chaewon unnie and I were a little late this morning.” Great, so this bedroom also belonged to Chaewon.

“Kazuha-ssi, I think you've rushed into all this, I... we shouldn't be here. I'm flattered, really, but I don't think you're aware of what this means."

She walked towards you and took your hands in hers, looking into your eyes with that look that begged you.

“I've wanted to do this for a long time, but I didn't know how. I'm too shy to approach some other random guy and propose this kind of thing out of the blue.” You laughed inside yourself, what she was saying had nothing to do with the spontaneous request she made to you. “I wanted to wait for the right moment and the right person.” Her fingers caressed the palms of your hands.

“I'm definitely not that person.” The expression on your face became more serious now. "You are!” She snapped loudly, making you step back in surprise. “I mean, I know Chaewon unnie very well. She wouldn't have done anything like that with you if she didn't have complete trust and deep respect for you, and that's more than enough for me.”

“But that's not how it should work, you shouldn't do this with some random guy you don't know at all like me, it should be with someone you love, someone you love from the bottom of your heart.” “You sound like the protagonist of a kdrama.” A small smile now graced her face. “Look, it's not that I'm a virgin, nor an expert, but I'm enough of an adult to know that I can have sex without commitment with whoever I want.”

The truth is that she was not wrong, perhaps you had seen too much fiction lately, after all, the vast majority of humans today had sexual relations guided more by vice and lust than by love.

You still had time to run out of there, you knew that she had nothing against you, she would never tell what she knew, and she loved Chaewon too much to harm her dear unnie. This was never about blackmail, just a favor, no one was forcing you to do anything.

That's what you told yourself internally over and over again.

‘This is not right.’

'Why don't my legs react?'

'I have to get out of here as soon as possible.'

'Fuck, she's beautiful.' Wait, what?

You stared at her for the first time in all this time, indeed, she was pretty and beautiful to look at, like a flower blooming in a beautiful meadow surrounded by huge green trees and a bright sun.

She was also attractive, you could see how well trained her body was. Her legs looked toned, and the lower part of her abdomen that did not cover her shirt was better worked than yours. She had an aura of tenderness and sensuality around her that was difficult to find.

Suddenly, in a burst of bravery, Kazuha raised her hands to your face, holding your cheeks to give you a small kiss on the lips. You wanted to resist, you really did, but who knows if, in order not to hurt her, you reciprocated that kiss by taking her waist with your hands.

“Everything you say is true, but also believe me when I say I want you to fuck me, oppa." She whispered against your lips.

"Kazuha, you're asking too much of me." Your lips were now moving unconsciously over hers.

"I don't think so." She chuckled, bringing one of her hands to your bulging crotch, gently caressing that area of your pants. She stood on her tiptoes to bring her mouth closer to your ear. "Don't you want to know how flexible I can be?” That whisper hit you squarely. It would have been a K.O. if we were in a boxing match. Your skin crawled just thinking and imagining certain scenarios, and the bulge in your crotch only grew under the touch of her delicate hand.

You let out a sigh, you sounded defeated, and you actually were. How could you be so fucking weak? Why were you trapped in a spiral of sex with gorgeous girls with beautiful bodies? And why were you martyring yourself for it when anyone would sign with their own blood to take your place? You didn't have the answer to any of those questions.

“Lie on the bed.” Despite your obvious annoyed tone, Kazuha's smile did not fade but rather widened, and she followed your instructions.

Immediately the Japanese idol was lying on her back, with her legs dangling from the edge of the bed, undoing the button on her jeans and slowly lowering them to your delight.

You knelt on the floor right in front of the bed, between her legs, starting to touch her thighs and going down her legs at the same time as her pants were going down.

You noticed how her skin stood on end under your hands, it burned, and you verified it with your own lips when you leaned your head over Kazuha's body, spreading a few kisses on the part of her abdomen that the shirt did not cover.

Her toned abs contracted as she felt your lips on them, your hands joined hers on either side of her legs, finishing off her pants in a single pull.

Your kisses marked a downward path towards the girl's panties while your hands took the opposite route, going from her legs to her hips, moving upwards slowly caressing every centimeter of skin.

A new piece of clothing was recognized as the next enemy, as your hands fisted the hem of her shirt. She understood quickly, and with an agile and quick movement, she slid the garment over her head and threw it away, landing somewhere on the floor of the room.

You kissed her pussy over the fabric of her panties making her moan, and then your tongue began to create lines of saliva before starting to move as if it were a normal cunnilingus.

Even though the panties continued to act as a barrier between your tongue and her pussy, the caresses you provided were felt on her body in a remarkable way, proof of this were the moans that Kazuha expelled from her mouth.

Her pussy was getting wetter due to the excitement, starting to leak down her thighs and even going through her panties, as your tongue began to enjoy the taste of the girl's intimacy.

You sat up a little and jumped on the bed, being careful with her delicate body so as not to hurt her, remaining on top of her, and going directly to kiss and lick her neck as an attack.

Her moans became noticeable again, with an increase in volume and much closer to your ears. However, she was a fighter, and although she seemed to be completely under your control, she managed to take off your shirt and expose your torso, which she did not hesitate to touch and caress.

You ceased the attack on her neck, moving back a little, allowing her to kiss your bare skin, causing you to sigh occasionally. You crouched over her again, kissing her lips deeply, taking her cheeks in your hands.

“Condoms?” You asked the instant the kiss broke.

She pointed out the nightstand next to the bed, and you jumped out of the bed again to approach the designated piece of furniture, opening it and finding a box of condoms still sealed.

You were opening it as you walked back, placing yourself in the starting position, facing her between her legs. You looked up and could see that there was no longer a trace of her panties.

You smiled, finally opening the package of condoms, taking one between your fingers, and placing it on the mattress. You needed both hands free to finish undressing completely. 

Kazuha sat up slightly on the bed so she could look directly at your now-naked cock, opening her mouth shocked by its size and almost reflexively opening her legs wider, giving you a much better view of her wet and shiny entrance.

You placed one knee on the bed, bringing your penis closer to her vagina, one hand holding your dick firmly and the other gripping one of the young girl's pale thighs.

"Wait! The condom…OH!” Her words were interrupted by a violent moan.

She was right, you hadn't put on the condom yet, but you didn't need it for the idea you had in mind, which consisted of rubbing the folds of her pussy with your cock over and over again without actually inserting it inside.

That game seemed to take its toll on Kazuha, who was now trying to silence her sounds by putting both hands over her mouth and allowing you to play with her intimate area to your pleasure.

Your penis soon became well lubricated after being rubbed mercilessly by the wetness of the Japanese pussy, at which point you decided that it was now possible to start the real action.

Now you wrapped your penis in the latex of the condom to bring it closer to the female entrance again, this time with the intention of entering her. You looked one last time into Kazuha's eyes, waiting for one last step back that never came, quite the opposite in fact.

She placed her hands on her thighs, separating her legs as much as she could, leaving you amazed at her incredible flexibility and increasing your excitement as you witnessed that move.

The tip of your penis made contact with her vagina, making you both moan slightly, moans that increased as more inches entered her cavity.

As you expected, Kazuha's insides felt tight, although you had to admit that it was less than you had originally imagined, because the truth is that most of your cock entered without any problem. You gave her a few seconds for her insides to adjust to your size before you started moving.

You started to move slowly, moving in and out slowly and careful not to hurt her, but she seemed to be enjoying it.

“God, you're stretching me so much... It feels so good.”

That gave you the green light to increase the pace, your hips moved faster, introducing you deeper into her. At this point, her pussy was already able to swallow the entire length of your penis without problems.

Kazuha's moans quickly turned into pleas, letting her get carried away by excitement and asking you to go even further.

“AH! Please…more… AH…MORE!”

She raised one of her legs to your shoulder, leaving her foot at the height of your head, leaving the other still resting on the bed. That only deepened your attacks against her even more.

You wrapped your closest hand around the thigh of her leg that was hanging from you, and your other hand went behind her head, grabbing the back of her neck, bending over her, and moving at a hard and incessant pace.

Kazuha's intense moans were only stopped when your lips joined hers in a kiss, just as intense as the clash between your hips. Everything was so intense that tiredness immediately began to appear in you.

After a few more minutes of fun, you wanted to change positions, now lying on your back on the bed, motioning to the girl to sit on your lap with her back to you.

You kissed the back of her neck and her back as she got into position, turning her head for a moment and demanding another kiss on the lips that you didn't deny her.

She raised her body enough so that in one quick movement your cock entered deeply inside her again, causing a sensation of incredible pleasure in both of you.

The girl placed both hands on your thighs to begin jumping on your penis, again and again, without stopping and emitting sweet and erotic moans for each thrust that your cock gave her as it lowered her body.

You wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her back, causing a small cry of surprise from her and causing her back to collide with your chest.

You once again had control of the situation, you once again imposed the rhythm of the penetrations to your liking and what was best for you.

From this position, you were once again able to attack Kazuha's neck at will, which for some reason had become one of your favorite regions of her body, and she seemed to love it too.

Your bodies were totally immersed in the heat of the moment, eager for each other's contact, roaring for sex, and sweating from the furious action, the temperature of the room had risen some degrees since you entered through the door.

Once again the idol raised her legs, surrounding them with her own arms, preventing them from falling, thus making your attacks clean and direct against her pussy, which you began to notice how it contracted, squeezing your cock against its walls, making you moan louder.

“Shit, Kazuha, your pussy...”

“Please don't stop now! I’m so close!”

Listening to the girl's request and with the aim of releasing yourselves sexually as soon as possible, you gave everything you had left, placing your hands on her butt and attacking her frantically, feeling how after some hard thrust you came brutally, filling the condom with your cum.

“AH! YES! OH GOD! AAAAAAAAAH!”

That liberating scream was followed by her body arching over yours, your hands quickly rising to her hips, pressing her against your body again, and leaving both of you gasping noticeably trying to recover from the intense orgasms.

Kazuha leaned her head back with her body resting on top of yours, trying to compose herself from the tremendous ecstasy you had made her feel. She turned her head to look into your eyes, just inches from your face.

“Now I can understand Chaewon unnie.” She murmured, offering you a soft smile, trying to hide her tired expression.

You, on the other hand, did not hide it at all, you continued searching for air almost desperately, and the fact of having her on top of you did not help, but the truth is that you were not going to complain about it.

“You are definitely very flexible.” You spoke, making her laugh softly, and then kissed her lips, passing your arms around her stomach area, surrounding and hugging her, lying there for a few minutes.

.

.

.

You left the group's apartment after making sure that Kazuha was in good condition. She said goodbye to you very happily, with her eyes giving off a special shine and giving you a small kiss on the cheek, making you both blush.

You drove back to your own house, a little rest wouldn't hurt to clarify all your ideas, but with a firm decision. You had to end your sexual encounters with idols immediately. That was obvious, but would you be able to cut it short? You assumed only the future would know for sure.

You entered your apartment, tired, extremely tired, but you still managed to find the energy to move your butt to the bathroom and get into the bathtub for a long half hour that left you almost as good as new.

You were now wearing your two-piece pajama with a shirt and pants, walking around the living room while drying your damp hair with a towel. You heard the sound of the doorbell, it seemed that the delivery man you had contacted had arrived to deliver your dinner. You put the towel aside, and with your hair still a little wet and messy that fell on your forehead, you approached the door.

You opened the door, but, to your surprise, the person on the other side was not who you expected. A young girl with black hair tied up in a bun, somewhat taller than average and with a slim but very elegant figure.

That girl seemed very familiar to you, the fact that she was wearing sunglasses late at night made it a little more difficult for you to recognize her, but you quickly realized it.

“Wonyoung…”

The sudden sound of a slap echoed throughout the house, silencing you. Your left cheek turned a reddish color at the same time as a burning sensation began to sting. Your face was now looking to the side due to the unexpected slap that the young woman had given you.

You took a step back, trying to stabilize your body so as not to fall, and directed one of your hands to the affected area of your face. Your eyes were wide open, as was your mouth, you didn't know what was happening, unable to understand anything.

When you returned to this world, you looked towards the door again, finding yourself facing the wall of the hallway.

You ran out of your apartment, finding Wonyoung a few meters later walking towards the exit of the building.

"Hey! Jang Wonyoung! What the hell do you think..."

You grabbed her arm, applying some force, without excess, to make her turn towards you, but your words fell into the void when you glimpsed her red face and how some tears formed a path from her eyes, hidden behind those sunglasses until they ended up on her chin.

She didn't say anything, you could only hear her weak crying and sobs that penetrated your soul and stabbed directly into your heart.

Still confused, you loosened your grip on her arm, and with that she got rid of you, setting off on her way again, but this time you didn't follow her, you stayed there, absorbed, with no other possibility than to see her back moving further and further away.

[viennakarma]

Everything I Wanted I.

LESTAPPEN X READER (Part 1)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 7.1k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. I know I said it was a oneshot, but the thing got out of hand, and I had to split it in half. Soon there will be a part 2! English is not my first language, so please ignore any mistake!

Find me on Twitter!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“They’re not friends, you understand? They’re rivals, and that’s all they’ll ever be.”

You stand, hugging your helmet firmly against your chest, your dad’s words louder than the ringing in your ear from the way he slapped the side of your head. You were 9 and it was your first time competing in a karting competition. You tried to befriend the other kids your age, but as soon as your dad called you away, fuming, you knew it was a mistake.

You followed your dad’s orders, and didn’t talk to any of the boys again. Max was already cold towards you, so he pretty much ignored your existence. But Charles was more talkative, and as you stopped answering him, he became taunting, annoying, but you didn’t fall behind, you used to clap back at him with the same intensity.

Sometimes you eavesdropped on their conversations, initially it wasn’t intentional, but they were always complaining about you, calling you names, and you realized your dad was right, they would never see you as a friend or equal, only as a rival.

One day you’re walking by when you hear your name in their conversation.

“Nah, don’t worry about Y/N,” Max shrugged, his accent thick, as he pointed to the side of his temple “she’s a little slow, but maybe she’ll catch up.”

You stood there, his words echoing in your head, she’s a little slow, that was a kind way to call you stupid, which, compared to the way your father called you that many times, it was much sweeter. You shouldn’t have let that get to your head, specially said that way. But then again, you were 11, and you kept hearing those words again and again in your head. You never considered yourself dumb, your grades in school were average, and whenever you had time off of karting to study for your exams, your grades became even better, a little above average.

And despite knowing that, after going back home after the competition, you spent the whole Saturday at the local library, studying everything you could find on motorsports and Formula One. You lent books on strategy, history, and even mechanics. Every spare time you had, you spent reading those books, or lending others. You didn’t want to be slow as they had called you.

After that, you stopped talking to Max completely.

“This is a waste!” Your dad shouted, and you flinched, taking a discreet step back, away from him, trying to avoid him getting physical.

You had argued with him, which made him more furious. You tried to tell him it wasn’t your fault, you were just as good at racing as everyone else, maybe better, but no one was willing to give a girl a chance. It made him even angrier.

“You had one job! You get into F4 on your first try!”

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t your fault. That they weren’t willing to give a girl a chance, even if you were better than half of the boys who made it to F4. But your dad didn’t care about any of it, he wanted you to succeed or nothing. He used to always say that anything below first place is failure.

So he decided you, at 14, weren’t worth the money he spent on karting. And he simply left. Making peace with the fact that your dad never saw you as his kid, but more like an investment, was hard.

“You’re never going to be a Formula 1 champion.” Was the last thing he said to you, before dropping you at your mom’s to never come back.

Living with your mom ever since your dad gave you up was something else. She had lost everything after the divorce, thanks to a prenup she had naively signed without knowing anything about it. So when you moved in with her, you noticed how the house was smaller than your dad’s, you two slept in the single room that was there. Your mom worked two jobs living paycheck to paycheck, and you barely saw her. But she was kind, comforting.

You soon realized that she wouldn’t be able to provide for your karting career. So you lied, you told her your dad was still paying for the karting, and you found two part time jobs to pay for racing. You mom worked so much, she didn’t notice your absence in the afternoons, when you went to work in an auto repair shop. Sometimes, on the rare occasions she was off work in the afternoons, you lied and told her you were out with friends, or studying in the library or even doing extracurriculars. You had the best intentions, you used to tell yourself at night whenever you laid awake, you knew she would blame herself or even work herself to death to provide for you.

The entirety of the next year was a constant struggle, and you worked, and scrapped and lied your way through the entire karting competition. It was one of your last chances to get into F4, and you weren’t sure you could live another year that way, without a sponsor.

When the competition ended, you were second place overall. Your kart had problems during the race and you were sad that it affected your performance in a race you could’ve won.

You walked closer as you saw a few of the other boys gathering around some adults, you eyed them curiously. As soon as you noticed who they were, you swallowed. They were probably scouts, it was very common in finals of these competitions, you were used to it. You also were used to being ignored by all of them scouts. You had tried many times before to make connections and make yourself known, maybe even meeting a potential sponsor, but they always ignored you. They weren’t interested in a girl, they didn’t care about a woman in motorsports. Your only hope was that one day you would meet a female scout and she would see your potential.

But meanwhile, there were only men, and they didn’t give two fucks about you. So you didn’t even get close enough to join, you heard Charles and Max talking with them, and you just turned around, going back to your kart.

You pulled a few tools from your backpack, working to fix the difficulties you felt during the race.

“What are you doing?” A man approached you, crouching close to watch your work. You briefly looked up, the guy was wearing sunglasses and a cap, just a normal guy, looking like someone’s dad.

“I’m fixing my steering wheel, it was a bit stuck during the race so I had to double the force used to be able to make it work,” you explained, and he nodded.

“You finished second, right? Why are you here by yourself?” The man asked.

“The other kids don’t like me very much. And they’re talking to the scouts,” you shrugged, trying not to think about all the opportunities they would get and you wouldn’t.

“You should be there, no? Meeting scouts is important for your career.”

“They’re not very interested in a girl racer. Believe me, I know.” You muttered, finishing with the steering wheel, testing to see if it was working all right. You turned, fixing your left rear tyre. The tyre wasn’t responding very well to the braking, “besides, my kart won’t fix itself, right? Look, you see how this tyre is slower to respond to my braking? It messed up with my balance during the race. I could have won.”

“Shouldn’t you take your kart somewhere to get it fixed?” The man asked, helping you unscrew the tyre.

“Can’t afford it,” you said, “I’m saving to try and get into F4, so I can’t spare any money on this one.”

You weren’t usually this talkative with new people, mostly keeping to yourself. But maybe you were missing a grownup figure in your life since your dad had dipped and your mom was always busy. And that man sounded really interested in your stuff, so it felt natural explaining to him.

“So, no one sponsoring you?” He asked, which made you look at him again, hesitantly.

“No, uh, I had one but he dropped me last year” you said, leaving out that part that it was your dad.

“You know who I am?” The man asked and you looked at him, shaking your head.

“Someone’s dad? I mean, I haven’t been introduced to all the kids and their parents yet, but you’re kinda familiar, so-” As you were babbling and trying to explain, he took off the cap and sunglasses, and you immediately recognized him, “oh my god!”

“Shh, shh” he silenced you, putting the disguise back.

“You’re Kimi Raikkonen!” You whispered, and he nodded.

“I’ll be your new sponsor, eh? What do you say?”

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," he nodded.

"How do you know I'm good enough for a sponsorship?" You asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, are you good enough for a sponsorship?" He asked. He had been keeping an eye out at that very category, and you had caught his attention as seemingly smart and emotionally controlled with the kart.

"I'm the best of the bunch," you smiled at him and you won him over with that answer.

Kimi became your lifeline, in a way. His family was quick to embrace you in an affectionate way you would’ve never expected of them. They invited you for their little New Year’s party, and you eventually told everything about your life to Kimi. His wife Minttu had also taken you as one of her own and their kids liked you a lot.

Under Minttu’s suggestion, Kimi also enrolled you in language classes, so besides English, you spent the next years learning French and Spanish, and you also caught a little Finnish from being so close to them.

You kept pushing your way up from F4 to F3 and so on, but instead of climbing it steadily like the boys, you had to win two or three times more than them to prove you were worth taking the next step.

You were 16 when your paths crossed with the boys from your childhood again. They recognised you, but they never really talked to you, so they didn't this time around either.

Coming out of the bathroom you once again caught a conversation, and you stopped dead as soon as you heard your name.

“No, not really… I don’t see her like that at all- she’s- uh-” Charles was speaking, probably looking for the words in english, “-she’s more like one of the boys.”

You paused, your breath hitched.

“Yeah,” that was Max, “I don’t see her like that either. I guess she doesn’t care about the things girls her age do.”

You felt a lump in your throat, retreating back to the bathroom. You stood in front of the mirror, watching your face as the tears fell down on your cheeks. You were dressed in your regular racing day attire, cargo pants and a sweater. You didn’t wear makeup and your hair was all frizzy because of the helmet.

The next time you went to the Raikkonen residence, you pulled Minttu aside one moment.

“I want to be pretty. Will you help me?”

You two went through a long chat with Minttu reassuring you that you were pretty in your own way and you insisting you wanted to be pretty like other girls, more feminine and girly.

When you entered F2 after the winter break, you felt and looked like some better version of yourself. Minttu had helped you set a skincare routine that was already helping clear your face from teenage acne. She also took you to a hair salon, where you trimmed your hair and made a few highlights. She upgraded your wardrobe, and even if you tried to refuse saying it was too much, she said it was a Christmas gift and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Your path until reaching F1 was slow and steady, and you were a reserve driver for two years before finally getting a seat at McLaren. You knew Kimi probably had a hand in getting you a chance, but he denied every time you asked.

Kimi told you the raw truth before the season started. He and Minttu sat you down and talked about how the world and Formula 1 would expect more of you than of any other rookie. How they would stress your mistakes tenfold. How they would diminish your achievements with the same intensity. You weren’t afraid, really.

“I’ve lived with my greatest hater more than half of my life, I can handle strangers” you had laughed to the couple.

Still, Kimi taught you everything about his Iceman persona, and told you to pick whatever you wanted from it. Minttu also convinced you to start therapy, which you accepted.

The hate started as soon as you were announced. Beyond the regular misogyny, they were calling you too old to be a rookie at 24, they were questioning your abilities even with numerous championships from other categories to back you up, even with the fact that your mentor was Kimi fucking Raikkonen. But you didn’t let any of that get under your skin.

Sebastian Vettel was quickly drawn to you, and he became your first friend in Formula 1. He had been close with Kimi from the time they were teammates, and he kinda adopted you.

The guys your age didn’t want to get too close to you. The very few times they talked or walked with you, it sparked romance rumors, and soon they pretty much ignored or avoided you. You knew their intentions weren't to be mean, they were probably just avoiding problems with the media and their girlfriends or wives, but it didn’t hurt any less every time they walked straight past you.

One of those times you were going to the group press conference and all three of the guys walked past you as you tried to chat with them. Your shoulders slumped, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“What was that?” You jumped at the sound of another voice. You looked behind you to see Fernando Alonso walking up to you. Up until that point, he had been polite to you.

“Oh,” you stumbled over your words, “being seen talking to me is bad press, apparently.”

“Una tontería,” he muttered, shaking his head, which made you laugh, surprised. He put a friendly hand over your shoulder and led you to the media session.

Simples as that, Fernando too became your friend.

You asked your PR manager, Amanda, to bend a few rules to make sure you would always be at the press conference with Seb and Nando or at least one of them. Most of the time, you did. But sometimes you were unlucky and had to sit stiffly through rounds of absurdly odd (and downright misogynistic) questions by yourself.

Soon you gave up on befriending the other drivers and being charming to the media. You realized the Iceman persona of Kimi looked like a good way to protect yourself from the clutches of the motorsport world. By the sixth race of the year, you gained the Lioness nickname. An agile hunter in your driving style and just as fierce in your answers.

“You’re always seen more comfortable with either Sebastian or Fernando, who are way older than you” some reporter said, “why is that?”

“I believe we’re closer in maturity age,” you said, face expressionless. You heard snickers around the room and you looked to Fernando who was visibly holding a laugh.

“So you’re saying the other drivers are immature?” The reporter pressed, but you didn’t want to talk anymore.

“No,” it’s all you answered, putting your mic down.

Everyone already thought you were arrogant, selfish, and superficial, and as you embraced your cold persona, you just fed into their assumptions. You couldn't care less, it was a good way to protect yourself, to be distant from the media who were constantly trying to drag you to the dirt. 

“You mentioned the other day that you believe you should’ve joined F1 around the time the guys your age did. Why do you think that didn’t happen?”

“Because of what’s between my legs, Brian” you deadpanned.

You had to prove yourself two or three times more than the boys every single step of the way, to get into F4, F3, F2 and now F1. You made it, you were there, between the 20 best of motorsport in the whole world… and still… Still you had to hear questions about how you managed to race with a period, questions about boyfriends, questions about hair care or skin care, or whatever. You wouldn’t mind any of that if those were common questions, if they were asked of every driver, but they were only asked of you.

“I would like to express that, from now on, I will only answer questions that would be asked of the male drivers too, about the sport, about the cars, about strategies and everything that revolves around racing,” you warned one day before the end of a media conference when someone asked if your PMS interfered in your racing.

You started to not give two fucks about the media. Every time someone asked you a misogynistic question you just stared at them and put your mic down. So those types of question died down a little bit.

“Do you think you would’ve already been world champion had you entered Formula 1 earlier, let’s say at age 19/20?”

“Yes.”

Most of the guys ignored or avoided you, but your path always clashed with Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. They always hinted at not liking you in the slightest, and the media and the fans started catching up to it, throughout your rookie year. They would shamelessly shade you, and you never backed down, giving it as hard as you got.

You walked to a reporter, still using a towel to dry your face at the post race interview.

“Did you hear what Leclerc said about your move as you left the pits?” The man asked you.

“No, I didn’t. Do I look like I care about a man’s opinion?” You said, loud and clear.

You got as many fans as you got haters, especially as you messed with Leclerc’s and Verstappen’s loud fanbases. It wasn’t really on purpose, but one of them would usually jab at you in interviews, and when word got back to you, it would anger you to no end, and you would shade them back, and in an insane amount of back-and-forths until your rivalry was in articles, the news, twitter threads, and in the mind of every single reporter in a race week.

“Verstappen talked about your overtake at lap 49, he said it was a dirty move.”

“Like he did to me back in Silverstone?” Your eyes held a mischievous glint as you scoffed, “Funny, you didn’t see me whining about it back then.”

You had the best rookie year ever since Lewis Hamilton debuted. You almost reached the same overall numbers as him, getting six podiums and your first ever Formula 1 victory. You finished the driver’s championship in fifth place, over older drivers that were literal champions of the world.

The first time Lewis Hamilton really engaged in conversation with you was during the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony by the end of the season. You were proudly smiling, holding your Rookie of the Year trophy. He had been polite to you before, but he always looked unattainable, in a way. He was beyond the world of Formula 1.

“Congratulations!” He smiled at you, sitting by your side. Your heart thrumming in your chest, trying not to fangirl too much. Sometimes it was unbelievable sharing casual conversation with legends you grew up admiring from afar.

“Thank you, Lewis. Congratulations on the championship!” You said.

“I’m sorry for not realizing most of the boys were excluding you. I chatted about it with Seb, and he told me your only friends are him and Fernando.” Lewis whispered, looking genuine, “I guess I was so focused on the championship that I didn’t bother to check on you. I’m sorry, really.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you raised your trophy, “I made it, right?”

“Succeeding despite the adversities… I see traits of a champion in you, congratulations” Lewis got up, raising his flute in a toast for you, “see you around, Lioness!”

Soon the next season you realized you had a competitive car. More than the year before. As for the first few races of the season, you had a win and podiums, which put you as a contender for the driver’s championship. Unfortunately the other people competing closely with you were none other than Charles and Max. Your rivalry had died down a bit when they noticed that you only shaded them when they provoked you first. So as their jabs became few and far between, it meant your clap backs did too.

The season was as good as it could get, that is until Monza.

You had felt the problems braking specifically during qualifying and your team tried to fix it but there wasn’t much anyone could do due to parc fermé. So you spent part of the night before the race working with your strategist to find a way around your braking problems and the best way to preserve your tyres.

The data had shown it would take a bit more strength to brake, which would eat up at your tyres quicker than usual, but other than that, everything seemed normal.

You all were wrong.

As the race went on, your brakes got progressively worse, to the point that curves were taking your body strength so much you could feel your muscles sore.

“We are considering retiring the car,” Jace, your engineer said. You inhaled, trying to calm down.

You were barely holding your P5, when you saw a Red Bull approaching you. You weren’t in position to fight, so he overtook you turning in a chicane. But your brakes didn’t work as you tried to slow down behind Max’s car, you tried not going into him but your tyres locked as you tried to avoid his rear. You drove straight into his rear, making the two of you lose control of your car. You braced for impact against the wall but luckily the gravel slowed you enough that you just touched the barrier.

After checking with your engineer, you left the car and saw Max leaving his, both DNFs.

You knew of your fame of being a reckless driver, often known for risky maneuvers and overtakes, but you never dove into someone intentionally because you knew trying to take someone out would mean yourself getting taken out too. As a marshal took you back to the garage on a motorcycle, you were ready to swallow your pride and apologize to Max for accidentally taking him out.

But as soon as you stepped down from the motorcycle, Max was in your space. His face was red and his hair all sweaty and disheveled, when he fronted you, chest to chest. You knew there were dozens of cameras pointed to you, so you tried to diffuse the tension for once.

“Are you insane?! Why did you drive into me?!” He kept advancing and for each of his steps ahead, you took one back to try and explain. But he didn’t give you a second screaming all kinds of curses and blame, “you should’ve never made it to Formula 1!”

His words were like a slap to the face, and you stopped trying to apologize or explain. You put both hands to your back, inflating your chest to face him.

“You don’t get to fucking decide that! You dipshit! Who the fuck do you think you are?” You said to his face, that’s when someone from the RedBull garage ran closer and stood between you.

You watched as he was taken away from you and inside his garage. At the same time your PT found you and walked you back to McLaren.

Changing from your race suit, you tried to cool down before going to the media. You gulped down your water as you watched Charles leading the race, and getting closer to the championship than you.

“There was an altercation between you and Max Verstappen, can you comment on that?”

“He was visibly upset with the racing incident.” It was all you said, after chatting with your PR manager before stepping out to chat with the journalists.

“And what happened at that incident? Can you walk us through it?”

“Yes, uh, we’ve been feeling something wrong with our braking system since yesterday. The data showed us it would require me to be more forceful during braking, which seemed feasible. But the brakes were wearing off during the race and we were about to retire when I completely lost the brakes. I really tried to avoid him but my tyres locked and I ended up hitting Verstappen.”

“Are you sure this accident has nothing to do with the ongoing rivalry between the two of you?” You got offended by the reporter's words.

“Of course! I would never intentionally do something to put myself or other drivers at risk. I have all the data to back me up and anyone can check my onboard.”

The FIA investigated your altercation with Max, and you ended up getting an unsportsmanlike behavior penalty. Two points in your super license.

“What the fuck?! Why the fuck would I be punished for that! There are fourteen different angles from that argument and all of them show how Verstappen aggressively came on to me first!”

It got worse when you heard that only you had gotten a penalty and Max didn’t even get a reprimand.

Everyone close to you noticed how you were on edge next week. During media day your answers were short, dry, and every single journalist seemed to want to talk about the penalty.

“Yes, I do have opinions on my penalty. But no, I won’t talk about it, only the FIA’s opinion is relevant” Your words during the press conference were enough to express a little dissatisfaction and to put an end to those questions. Everyone was surprised at the fact you chose to be quiet about the whole ordeal, they were all expecting your complaints and harsh words.

When you went back to your driver’s room, you went straight to lay your head on your mom’s lap, feeling a bit down. You stayed quiet as she ran her hands through your hair softly untangling it. She knew you were upset and why, so none of you bother to voice anything, bashing in the comforting silence.

The best thing about Formula 1 was being able to retire your mom from working, now you didn’t have to worry about her burning out and she didn’t have to worry about bills or mortgage or debts. Now she had a new, bigger and better house, everything was paid for and you even gave her a credit card for hobbies or whatever she wanted. She sometimes went to the races, but she usually stayed at home, relaxing.

“I know things are hard right now,” you mom started, her voice soft, caring, “but I know you can do it, honey. You’ve faced pushback since the beginning of this dream, but you always came out on top.”

“Thank you for believing in me.”

“You will be a world champion, honey. I know it.” She smiled down at you.

You sat up as your mom removed her watch, handing it to you.

“I wanted to give it to you on your birthday, but I feel like this is the right moment,” she turned the watch, showing you the inscription that read strong woman, and you felt your eyes water, “this was my grandma’s. She gave it to my mom, who gave it to me, and now it’s yours.”

That week you got a victory, raising your P1 trophy for your mom, who was watching you with a hand on her heart, crying happy tears.

As the season progressed the championship became even tighter between the three of you. Mere points set the three of you apart, and with each week result, the P1, P2 and P3 shifted between you. It had become one of the most competitive seasons in the sport.

When the third to last race came in Qatar, you were P3 in the championship, and you needed at least P4 in that race to keep fighting for the championship. You didn’t care about anything other than getting a podium, focused on your racing mindset, no distractions. If you only got that win, it would mean getting back that P1 in the championship and you would go down in history.

You were P3 after your last pitstop of the race, you had a small window of time to take advantage of being with new mediums while everyone else was with old softs. You had to pull ahead and open at least ten seconds, so you could become first when Max went to the pits. You had the perfect opportunity for an undercut.

That was until you overtook Charles’ Ferrari for P2. You passed him easily, he hadn’t gone to the pits yet, so he had old tyres. But you frowned as Jace warned you about Leclerc trying to take the position back. He couldn’t fight against your new tyres, everyone knew that. You accelerated to open a distance, but as you went fast into turn 4, you only felt the hit to your side, making you lose control of the car.

It was barely a few seconds that you couldn’t wrap your head around, so shocked you couldn’t brake, only feeling your stomach churn as you braced for impact. The second hit came against the barriers even harder than the first, it shook your whole body, leaving you dizzy and out of breath.

You talked with Jace, telling him in a shaky voice that you were okay but out of breath, and you unlocked your seatbelts with trembling hands. After removing your steering wheel, you tried to get up but you were dizzy and your legs felt like jelly. A marshal helped you out of the car, but as soon as your feet were on the ground, you stumbled to your knees. The nausea got the best of you and you puked against your balaclava and inside the helmet. The marshals made a small shield around you, as one of them helped you remove the helmet and balaclava, still dry heaving. The marshal gave you a towel, and you cleaned the best you could as the ambulance was coming.

You looked behind you to your destroyed car.

And just like that, you had lost any chance at the championship.

You held your tears as you went through the medical procedures and examinations. The world had been muted in the background and you could only hear the noise of the crash, visualizing your ruined car, and your dreams being crushed once again.

But as you came back to the hospitality, you found your mom, and sobbed quietly against her chest.

“It’s ok, honey. It’s okay,” her voice was so soothing and the pain meds were working, so you cried yourself to sleep while she held you.

Later that day, you watched the replay of your crash. Leclerc had gone way too close to you, but in turn 4 he hit the curbs and lost control, hitting your car right in the middle, full force. Your car had spun out a lot then hit the barriers. It was lucky that you had come out of the crash relatively unharmed, it was ugly and could’ve been a lot worse, from the way you spun and the G force your car hit the barrier with.

“You’re still watching that?” Your mom’s voice sounded in the middle of the night.

“He shouldn’t have tried to fight for the position back, he didn’t even have enough tyres for that! And he was way too close, look!”

Your mom closed your laptop, putting it on the coffee table. She took your hands in hers and smiled gently.

“I’m sorry about the championship. But I’m glad you’re okay, that was one of the scariest couple of seconds of my entire life,” she whispered, teary eyed.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, ashamed that it didn’t cross your mind how worried she might have been.

“It’s okay, honey. There’s always next year, I’m sure you will be world champion. And will be there cheering for you.”

The next week in Jeddah, you felt like the world was out to get you when they put you in the press conference with both Max and Charles, as well as Lewis and Sebastian.

“Y/N, how are you feeling after last week’s crash? It looked pretty bad.” Someone asked.

“I am doing ok, thank you,” that’s all you said into the mic.

“Unfortunately, the crash ultimately took you out of the championship, what do you say about that?”

You were so tired of that question, so tired of your PR manager talking in your head about not blaming Charles publicly, despiste your desire to scream to whoever may hear that the monegasque just wanted to take you out of the competition, so he could fight only Verstappen for the championship. You just wanted the season to be over, in all honesty.

“There’s always next year, right?” You echoed your mom's words, that were also your rehearsed answer. You looked to the side, feeling Sebastian’s hand softly on your forearm, a silent show of support.

You left as soon as it was over. You knew Charles had been trying to talk to you. You supposed it was to apologize, but you weren’t having it. You were still so angry at him that you worried you’d punch him as soon as he was in your face. So you just avoided him like the plague. You didn’t want to see him, and you couldn’t afford another punishment if you acted on your anger.

“Charles has been looking for you,” Sebastian said, walking up to you as you were finishing braiding your hair for the race.

“I have been avoiding him,” you said, not looking at Seb, still focusing on your braids.

“He just wants to apologize.”

“And I want to punch him in the face, so what? We can’t always get what we want” You clenched your jaw, using an elastic band to finish.

“Y/N…” Sebastian sounded tired.

“Don’t Y/N me. I just want this season to be over, ok? The championship was in my reach, and now it’s not. And it wasn’t even my own fault. So no, I won’t see him.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything as he walked to you and pulled you in an affectionate hug that made you want to cry again.

During the driver’s parade, Fernando acted almost as a guard dog, not letting anyone close to you. You talked with him and Lewis about the crash, explaining how it felt to you.

When the season ended, you got a third place trophy during the Prize Giving Ceremony. You remembered your dad’s words throughout the entire night. Coming down from the stage, and you met with Minttu and Kimi, they congratulated you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of failure. You looked at Charles on the stage with his P2 trophy.

“Anything other than the first is failure, right?” You sighed, eyes glued to the stage, where Max got the trophy of Champion of the World.

“What crap is that?” Kimi said, suddenly.

“My dad used to say that when I was a kid.”

“Well he was an asshole,” Kimi said matter-of-factly, “and he never made it to F1. He didn’t even make it to F4, he has no reason or power to get in your head. You were just a kid. You understand?”

“Yes, Kimi," you swallowed, feeling some kind of wheight being lifted from your shoulders. Kimi had done many great things for your life with very few words, and his succint way of being was great to pull you back to the present whenever you anxiety got the best of you.

You ended up getting the Personality of the Year award too, which was such a surprise that it worked wonders to lift your spirits and to end the season with a sweet note.

Even being in a better mood, you didn’t stay at the party too late, saying your farewell to your friends as you dropped Kimi and his wife at the hotel. You were removing your makeup after a shower when there was a knock on your hotel room door. Thinking it was an emergency, you rushed only to be faced with Charles Leclerc.

“What are you doing here?” You looked around the hall, confused.

“Can I talk to you?” Charles was still dressed in his formal attire, black tie. He fiddled with his fingers as you let him in, afraid someone might see him at your door.

“What?” You crossed your arms as you closed the door.

“I’m really sorry about the crash in Qatar,” he waited for your answer with bated breath.

“Can we have this conversation when next season starts?” You proposed. You knew you weren’t ready for that talk yet, too much anger was still clouding your judgment for a level-headed talk.

“It wasn’t my intention to take you out-” He started but you cut him off.

“Look, you’ve never liked me, I’m aware, and you cost me an entire championship, so I don’t know if I believe you.”

“It really wasn’t intentional, the accident cost me the championship as well,” you could see in his eyes that his patience was wearing thin. But so did yours.

“No it didn’t. You still had a chance even after that DNF, you just didn’t win anyway,” your anger simmered again, making you raise your voice.

“Fuck you! You treat me like this because you always felt like you were better than everyone-”

“I treat you like this?! Be fucking for real, Charles! You hate me so much you took my chance at the championship away!”

“If you had more wins during the season maybe this wouldn’t be a problem right now!”

“Unbelievable! Because you are so much better than me, all you got was second place!”

“Shut up.”

“You’ve always hated me for absolutely no reason-”

“Shut up.”

“And now you think you can barge into my room and tell me you think I’m a shitty driver? I’m not standing for-”

“Shut up!” He shouted, which was so surprising you actually stopped talking.

The both of you were breathing heavily, in one second you were sure you could strangle him, in the next, his lips were against yours and his hand gripping your hair. The kiss was nasty, all teeth and lips and tongue, his hands going down your body, pressing you into him, and your fingers tugging at his suit, ripping the buttons. You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but Charles’ lips found your neck and he bit into your pulse point.

“Fuck you, Charles” you said, breathless, opening his trousers and he ripped your little sleep top with his bare hands.

It was so hot as you stumbled backwards and he followed you, tossing your top behind him, you took off his shirt and undershirt and he helped you kick out your shorts.

Charles pressed you against the wall, kissing you aggressively again, and you moaned as he placed his thigh between your legs, and you ground against him, turned on, dampening his trousers with the wet of your panties. You pressed your hand against his bulge, and he groaned, pressing into you even harder, humping like horny teenagers.

You didn’t even bother to get him naked, with his trousers half undone, you just pulled his cock out, heavy in your hands. You watched his pained expression as you spit on your hand so you could masturbate him.

“Fuck it,” you moaned, knowing grinding on him was not nearly enough.

You pulled your panties to the side, and lined his cock up into you. It was so tight as he slid into you, that your eyes rolled in pleasure, and he raised one of your legs against his waist to make room for his hips. He pulled back and snapped his hips into you again, his cock stretching you so good you were shaking. You put one arm around his shoulders holding on him and the other hand you held his ass under his loose trousers, your nails biting into his flesh as you pushed him even deeper.

“Fuck, ah-” he moaned in your ear, “so hot- putain-”

The loud, wet sounds of his hips pistoning into you were obscene. You angrily bit him, his shoulders, his chest, his jaw and he went even harder, your back hitting the wall behind you, and you pulled his hair, sweat starting to form all over your body.

“Fuck, Charles!” Your moans got even louder, and Charles stuck two fingers into your mouth, muffling your sounds as he fucked you.

He was hitting the perfect spot inside you, and it was enough for you to know you would come that way. You slapped his cheek, taking out some of your anger and he groaned, going harder. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and held your neck, pressing your torso against the wall and choking you a little bit.

“I can’t hold much longer” he warned you between gritted teeth, relentlessly fucking you.

You pinched your own nipples and it didn’t take long for you to come, your cunt clenching so hard around him, it was enough to send him over the edge too.

Shaking, the two of you slid to the floor, breathlessly lying down, half naked and sweaty.

None of you said a word.

When he was ready to go again, he put you on your knees, your torso against the mattress, and he pounded into your cunt mercilessly from behind.

The third and last time was lazy, slow missionary and he held your wrists above your head with one hand, pressed your clit with the other, sucked a few hickeys around your tits and his cock pressed over and over your g-spot.

When you woke up the next morning, Charles was still asleep by your side. You went into the bathroom and showered, hoping he would catch the hint and leave. But as you came out showered and dressed, he was still out cold. So you quietly packed your bag and left for the airport.

[krystella-shifts]

EVERYTHING IS CLICKING FOR ME Y'ALL!!! *ੈ✩‧₊˚

The only post you'll ever need for LOA. Literally.

It's so easy to manifest literally so easy once you do this. JUST SIT BACK AND RELAX, BE IN RECIVING MODE INSTEAD OF CONSTANTLY FEELING LIKE YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING. Yes sometimes it can be hard when you feel panic that you have to manifest as fast as possible but trust me once you TRUST, it'll all fall into your lap at the snap of a finger! Literally. You'll even feel better and happy instead of worrying and feel like waiting forever. The universe/god/your higher self, whatever you believe in is telling you or teaching you that the way isn't through worry, stress, pain, suffering. The way is through ease, love, trust. Once you understand this you'll ALWAYS and I mean ALWAYS be able to manifest without any effort. Yes, no need for that 21 days challenge, no need to set a reminder for every hour to affirm, no need to try hard to visualise every teeny tiny detail. Just have this inner knowing and relax. That's the cheat code. How easy is that? You literally have the cheat code and it doesn't require ANY effort outside and the most minimal effort inside.

Now let me explain all the manifestation techniques in more detail.

Every manifestation technique has one goal:

Think about any technique. Affirming, visualising, scripting,etc. All of these are for what? To remind you, you have your desire. YES not to get something. That's why Neville said feel it real is very powerful technique. Cuz that's what happens when we receive something right. But what we do in loa is we feel it rn and get it rn, and because the 3d is in the past, yes it's our past assumptions, that's why we say it's not real. So when we feel it real we already have our desire in the present, but the 3d is not in the present. So don't react to it. Just remember that. And after a few days of having our desire we don't get THAT excited, do we? So when you think about it again you don't have to feel anything or do anything cuz you already have it. AND THEN WE JUST SIT BACK AND RELAX. Again the same conclusion. Cuz that's it!

ALL YOU NEED TO EVER DO:

Decide what you want. And feel having it.

Remind yourself that you have ___ either saying it in your head, writing it down, etc

RELAX. SIT TF BACK. YES YOU DON'T NEED TO DO ANYTHING.

Whenever you think about ___ always remember you have it. And think naturally. How would you think having ___ cuz you do now.

Remember the 3d is a product of your past assumptions. Just like how we see the stars 8 years later of their actual form. Just like it takes 8 minutes for sunlight to reach the earth. If you remember this you won't ask "where it is" you know it is here. And yes u can manifest Shifting too.

Allow it to come to you. I don't chase i attract.

Yes that's what it means. And I am the living proof for that 😌💅🏻✨ I am literally living my dream life and bestie you are too. That's all you need to manifest (aka yourself). It's very simple but if you have any questions feel free to comment and keep me updated on your manifestation journey and success stories cuz I'd love to read them and know if my post helped you 🤭🥂 (atleast you can do that for me, right? ;p)

Love, ... redkittyjellyfish? Wait i need to change my user name 💀 (ps. I changed my user from redkittyjellyfish - Krystella-Shifts (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) )

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[rinskazuu]

love me like you do ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

synopsis. ꨄ︎ hsr characters and their voice lines about you as their lover!

characters: ꨄ︎ gn!reader x gepard, sunday (written at the time of 2.5), dr ratio, acheron, black swan, aventurine, jing yuan (separately)

cw: ꨄ︎ established relationship, use of they/them pronouns, use of pet names (beloved, darling, love), implied that reader has the same/relative lifespan as jing yuan, FLUFF :D

notes: ꨄ︎ continuation (more like a spin off) of my genshin lover voice lines lol (it has god awful writing and punctuation. proceed with caution). warning: i accidentally (it really was an accident) turned them into d1 yappers, mb y'all.

GEPARD

about: [name]

“so, you’ve sought me out during my busy schedule to talk about [name]…? i will indulge you just this once, considering they are my lover. what is it that you want to know? ah, before you begin, i must remind you that although you and i are good friends, i won’t tolerate anyone trying to take them from me. otherwise, i will have to resort to methods i wouldn’t normally use.”

chat: family

“you’ve heard of my close relationship with my sisters? yes, i hold them in my heart dearly. the only downside of our relationships is that they tend to nag me about [name] a lot. lynx is always trying to steal them from me under the pretext of help for her next adventure, but i know she loves them almost as much as i do. serval, being the true older sister she is, always scolds me for not taking better care of [name]. i understand her perspective but my schedule is draining, even for me.”

chat: art

“ahem, i would prefer if you didn’t bring up my skills in art, or lack thereof. please, enough with the teasing. you remind me of [name] when they first saw my so-called wanted posters. as i recall, they keeled over, arms clutching their stomach from laughter. i’ve never suffered a bout of embarrassment as bad before. so you’ve seen them too…? please spare me the humiliation.”

chat: flowers

“lynx’s dangerous journeys in the cold can also result in wondrous things, such as the flowers she brings home for serval and i to grow. i admit growing these things are difficult to say the least but i do do my best to raise them until they’re ready to be sent off—to [name] more specifically. i just can’t figure out how to get them to not wither. trailblazer, do you have any experience growing plants?”

chat: duties

“i do rather enjoy my job as the captain of the silvermane guards. i cherish and honor the responsibility, however, the hours are brutal. my constant thoughts all revolve around [name]. thinking about them, but not being able to be in their presence, feeling their touch, or just as simple as seeing them is torture in itself. nonetheless, the citizens of belobog need me—more importantly, [name] needs the protections i offer, and for that, i will pay the price diligently.”

♡

SUNDAY

about: [name]

"most handsome man in penacony? yes, i've heard that before. i'm flattered, but everybody in this universe should know my heart is already taken. you're surprised i have a lover, why is that? as you've said, i am the most handsome on this planet."

chat: jealousy

"jealous? what nonsense has gotten into you? is it that gambler or perhaps his accomplice, the doctor? i should not be surprised they display such impertinence, seeing as that gambler always tests his luck. the doctor should recheck his qualifications and his ego at that. wanting things they could never get. such foolishness i cannot comprehend. are you interested in [name], too? i won't hesitate to oppose you, regardless of our friendship."

chat: power

"the power i hold comes with such responsibility, naturally. i shouldn't be deceitful; i enjoy being in a position of authority. but then again, who doesn't? the only downside is my constant worry for [name] and robin's safety. should a day come where either or both are in harm's way, i will not resist in acting on my power. i have high hopes that the people of penacony should not resort to violence against my beloved nor my dear sister."

chat: dreams

"it shouldn't come as a surprise that the dreamscape is nothing new to me, seeing as i hold the responsibility of the safety and entertainment of many in my hands. oh, did you not mean the dreamscape? hmm... my dreams often carry beautiful memories of my beloved. [name] appears equally as comforting as they do in the realm of reality. all entities and beings cease to exist when i am within their presence."

chat: problems

"is something troubling you? inner demons... yes, i'm rather familiar with them. such a world without personal problems is so close, yet so far out of reach. if it is advice you seek, i suggest maybe confiding in a close friend or better yet a lover. sometimes it feels as if my very being is precarious, within the bounds of falling apart, but all is well when [name] is with me. they soothe my demons, hushing them as if they were never there to begin with. i am subjected to this... forlornly feeling whenever they aren't near."

♡

DR RATIO

about: [name]

"you speak in high regard of my lover i see. as expected; [name] has that effect. one where they attract all kinds of people, that of which unfortunately includes those who are reduced to stupidity. why are you surprised my beloved is someone like me? are you implying i would ever associate myself with an idiot? here i thought you were aware of my character. no matter, i'll let it slide because you are not prone to foolishness. should you make another mistake, i'm afraid i'll have to distance myself..."

chat: intelligence

"what makes a genius versus an idiot, i often find myself pondering. it certainly isn't the knowledge you gain because then again, an idiot cannot comprehend idiocy but can acknowledge the subject of math. it is the unlimited creativity in oneself and their intellectual ability. a prime example of brilliance is none other than my lover, [name]. their originality and innovation is something to admire, truly."

chat: free time

"solving equations with my lover is something i cherish. their tenacious behavior certainly puts up a challenge for me and i would ask for no other way to spend my time. books and bathtubs suffice as well, i suppose."

chat: nuisance

"to think i was enjoying my time when you just had to bring up the gambler. that nefarious man knows no bounds. i was very well aware of the way he was eyeing [name]. as if that man can even make sense of their beautiful being and mind. i've had enough. if you could make your exit, i would be the utmost grateful."

chat: bonds

"i find it rather difficult to... connect with others because there is no shortage of stupid people in this world. if i were to pick, i'd spend the rest of my time with [name] but that's already a given. i suppose you'd make a decent second option. blushing? hmph. be serious, that act is not even in my vocabulary."

♡

ACHERON

about: [name]

"on my journey throughout the cosmos, my encounters with others were never necessarily nuisances. rather, they were precious. but just like all moments in life, they are only a distant past; too far out of reach, too far out of my mind. the same cannot be said about [name]. for every minute i spend with them, i will fight to remember what it is i truly cherish in this world."

chat: memories

"it is true that my memories fade, much like the rain; very visible in the moment, but as days pass it will unite on the ground, vanishing before it is forgotten. however, the importance of rain is akin to my feelings toward my lover. it may one day be a mere bygone, but the feeling will never wane."

weather: rain

"like all little things in life, [name] finds it all fascinating. i cannot share their enthusiasm, but i do share a bit of their contentment when it comes to the weather. as the skies darken, it can form a shroud of fear toward one, yet comfort for another. the little droplets creating rivulets of water on the ground. so insignificant, yet so beautiful, the latter a lot like my lover."

chat: company

"no matter the reason, all travelers in this world are alike, their own purposes driving them to each and every corner of this cosmos. i am glad i do not have to suffer my fate alone, for it is not entirely filled with hardships. [name] is not just my lover, but my companion and it fills me with joy beyond my understanding that they will withstand any storm by my side."

weather: lightning

"a bold and bright strike in the sky, severing it ever so slightly. it is beautiful and brief, yet so powerful. i like to think the fondness i show [name] is much like lightning. i believe actions hold a larger importance than conversation, but for my lover, my words are endless."

♡

BLACK SWAN

about: [name]

"is it without a doubt my most radiant memories are with none other than my love. so, you've met [name]. by your expression, i take it that they are just as dazzling as i'm proposing. would you humbly allow me to capture your memories with them? i can assure you it's all in good's name; after all, i must oblige by my lover's safety. i wish you could see your appearance. i apologize for the scare, it's all meant to be humorous."

chat: memories

"as a memokeeper, it shouldn't be a surprise that i enter many minds. some minds are putrid; the memories i see are only vile acts of selfishness or egocentrism. others are broken, hard to explore and understand. there are minds which contain honorable deeds and acts of heroism, such as yourself. [name], however, their mind is brilliant. i could exhaust you for the rest of time just by simply sharing what i've learned from my lover, but the term brilliant should suffice. hmm? well, of course. i only entered their mind with their authorization."

chat: time well spent

"memories are integrated in my very being. even this body is merely a vessel only to serve my purpose. one day, the inevitable will come and we will all cease to exist. perhaps on the path there i will outlive my lover. in other rare cases, they may live on without me. memories are eternal and we shall all live on in the reminder of what once was."

chat: fate

"do you believe in fate, trailblazer? it is one of, if not the only, inescapable pieces of this world. what is to come is predestined. it is within my comprehension that [name] and i were bound to happen. the lights of destiny shine at me once again."

chat: time

"like the past and present, the future will hold many resplendent tales. i look forward to the stories [name] and i will share. whether it inspires a romantic and grand story or a simple poem, i will continue to dance with them until the stars begin to grow dimmer and dimmer."

♡

AVENTURINE

about: [name]

"my interactions are always based on transactions, but there's more to [name] than what meets the eye. i admit, our relationship started as a one time self-indulgent on my part, but as usual, i only invest in deals that pay off. don't bother trying to steal my darling. i mean, if you wish to do so, you can try, but remember i'm the lucky one here."

chat: luck

"i've never doubted my luck. it's as simple as it sounds—everything requires strategies and planning, even if it boils down to fate and luck, and who am i if i'm not lucky? my most treasured possession is none other than my beloved, of course. no game or bet could satiate my desires as they do."

chat: chips and gambles

"each chip has a different value, as does a person. the highest chip of profit are those who are beneficial. again, everything requires planning, but sometimes i like to revel in making a simple wager. you are easily a valuable chip, hence our cordial relationship. naturally, there are worthless ones and then there are priceless, one-in-a-million ones. my darling effortlessly tops the list."

chat: schemes

"you call it a scheme, i like to call it a master plan. with my bets, chips, my pawns in one place, and fate smiling upon me, it's hard not to win. it's as i say; the best plan is the smartest plan. how else do you think i have my lovely [name] by my side?"

chat: wins and losses

"my greatest loss was one you've heard before. i have no interest in repeating it, but i'm sure you remember what happened to my home planet. as for my wins? i've got plenty. you seem indifferent to hearing them, so i'll give you an easy answer: [name]. my greatest treasure and win is my lover. why are you surprised? high rewards always follow high risks, and they are no exception."

♡

JING YUAN

about: [name]

"the xianzhou species and natives, as you know, have longer life spans. the things we see from our day to day life often begins to blur. rather, more accurately, it begins to mesh with the background. it becomes, dare i say, mundane and dull. however, it amazes me how i still love life with [name] as my lifelong companion. my lover, who's been with me for centuries, makes my days and nights much more livelier."

chat: bonds

"yanqing is my disciple and subordinate. at his young age, he shows many promising features and skills. it is a shame that although he may be an excellent swordsman and lieutenant, his behavior often reminds me that he still a child. what warms my heart is his attachment and endearment to [name]. with my duties, i am often in the seat of divine foresight, so i cannot entertain either of them when i mostly yearn for it. i am filled with glee knowing [name] is there to care for him, and likewise."

chat: a day of work

"it is without a doubt that my work is utterly boring. it is not to say i don't love my home planet, but the work i do on a normal day to day basis is... tedious. early mornings transition into the peak of the day where it then drags into the long, wee hours of the night. thankfully, i have my beloved, [name], to amuse me. sometimes, they'll sneak off in the middle of work just to come see me, which delights me to no end. i'm fortunate to be able to see their lovely face first thing in the morning."

chat: worry

"i, as one of the arbiter-generals, have a lot to worry about regarding the luofu and the planet as a whole. there is chaos to be dispelled, questions to be answered, and a seemingly endless amount of help to be distributed. hmm? you were asking about my personal worries. well, there was a time where i was just a cloud knight, coming home when the sun was long gone with bruises etched into my skin and blood littering my armor. my greatest worry is having to see the fearful look on [name]'s face again, frightened for my safety."

chat: associations

"long gone with the wind were my old comrades and friends. like the sun sets, it's natural for more winds to blow my way. come new adventures, i will pursue new companions. one i will clutch onto for the rest of my days is [name], the most precious of them all. it goes without saying that they are whom i treasure the most, who i seek in my darkest moments, who i confide in my happiest moments with, and who i share my every being with."

end notes: ꨄ︎ i was going to include luocha, but my brain juice ran out. i typically listen to their EN voice lines on youtube (even if i have them) before figuring out what to type to get a better grasp on their canon personality, but uhm luocha was too vague as is. plus, we don't really know much about him (still love him)

[zelda-the-sacred-realm]

"Share your pain with me"

"If the suffering is too much for you, please, master, allow me to take it on with you." -Twilight from Zelda the Sacred Realm

This piece is dedicated to Twilight and Time(Hero's shade). During their journey together, Twilight learned that his Master, so cold and impassive to belonging, he carried the weight of an unjust and sad life on his shoulders

As his teacher he eased the burden on Twilight's shoulders, and as his student Twilight learned to do the same for Time

The two are portrayed as different personalities, Time is impassive to his pain, Twilight suffers from a pain that is not his

Here is the reverse version:

Hope you like it! 💖

[mercwithadilf]

Home

Sirius Black x Potter!reader

Summary: Sirius runs away from ‘home’ having finally suffered enough of his parents’ ideals and behaviours. The only place he can really call home is with his best friend, James Potter. Wherever James is, you are too.

This is my first fic after a really long time but I'm really excited to get back on my writing journey! Writing for Sirius Black is mainly because of my absolute love for Ben Barnes so I hope you enjoy!! <3

‘Mum! Godric- James if I catch you looking through my stuff again, it’s your head!’ You chase after James who somehow manages to not only sneak into your room, but also find and run away with the hoodie you forgot to give Sirius back after a night of Quidditch practice.

James pauses in front of you causing you to almost run straight into him and holds up the hoodie with a wide, shit-eating grin. 

‘And why, dear sister, do you have my best mate’s hoodie in your closet?’

You roll your eyes at his annoying, but also very usual antics. ‘Because, dear brother, your best mate gave it to me after I was freezing to death during the Quidditch practice you so thoughtfully stretched out until the dead of night. I simply forgot to give it back before Christmas break! Now give it back!’ 

You jump up to grab the hoodie back from James which he oh so kindly pulled out of your reach. Euphemia took the hoodie away from James’s hands and gave it to you. 

‘Let your sister fawn over the hoodie Sirius gave her in peace, James.’ James smirks at you as your mother chuckles at both of you. 

You stare at her in disbelief and scoff. ‘Seriously, mum! James is being a twat –’

‘Language!’ You hear Fleamont yell from downstairs.

‘– and I get humiliated! Unbelievable! Why don’t you tell mum about Lily, Jamesy?’ You flash your brother the same grin he shot you a mere few seconds ago.

You watch his eyes go wide as your mother pauses her movements and turns to him, ‘Are you still chasing that girl, James? I told you, girls don’t like stalkers.’

James playfully glares at you and turns to you mother, ‘She actually gave me a chance, mother dearest. And I said yes!’ He grins.

You look at him with the most unimpressed look you could fathom and both your mother and James catch up on it, which causes your mother to mirror that look. ‘Okay fine, she said yes, happy?’

‘Very actually.’ He sticks his tongue out at you and you reciprocate the gesture.

Your father’s footsteps emerge up the steps as he walks past you both, ruffling your heads. ‘Everyone to bed or else Santa won’t bring any presents down the chimney for tomorrow morning!’

‘He’s talking to you, Jamesy!’ You sing-song.

‘You wish, sister!’

Everyone heads to their rooms with a final goodnight, you settling in your bed with the comfort of the sounds of the rain and Sirius’s hoodie warming you and lulling you into sleep.

James jolts up from his sleep at the violent bangs of knocks coming from downstairs. In a rushed daze, he scrambles to put his glasses on and grabs his wand. He clutches it tightly, knuckles turning white as he sneaks downstairs, ready to attack whoever decided to disturb the peace at four in the morning. 

He looks through the peep-hole, adjusting his sight to the figure standing outside. As his vision adjusts, he begins to panic.

‘What the fuck?’ James opens the door. ‘Pads?’

Sirius spins to look at him, eyes wide, lips quivering from the cold as he engulfs his figure in his robe. A bag is slung against his shoulder, the boy looking too weak to even carry it properly.

James could tell the streaks on his best friend’s face were from tears that were being washed away by the constant, harsh droplets of rain.

They were both too stunned to even speak.

‘Prongs –’

‘Get in. Now.’ 

James grabs Sirius by his shoulders and leads him inside, taking his bag from him as if it was weighing him down a ton and a half. He helps Sirius take the robe off and replaces it with a warm, fuzzy Christmas blanket as he leads him to the couch.

You huff while sitting up, expecting James to have gone downstairs to get a very early head start on the presents. You walk out of your room and storm downstairs ready to tell him off until you’re stopped in your tracks by the site in front of you.

‘Sirius?’ Your voice wavers.

Both boys situated on the couch turn to look at you. ‘Y/n.’ You wouldn’t have been able to hear Sirius’s voice if it wasn’t for the complete dead silence in the house.

You rush down the rest of the stairs and sit on the floor right in front of Sirius, your hand on his knee to reassure him of your presence.

You glance at your brother for an explanation, but he only shakes his head at you with a frown. You take that as a hint that Sirius hasn’t said anything and to not rush him.

Sirius’s eyes trail over your figure as you sit in front of him. He notices the hoodie you’re wearing was the one he kept looking for, however finding it on you softened the edges of his heart.

James notices Sirius’s eyes on you and smiles softly, despite the situation they’re in right now. ‘I’ll get you a cup of hot choco, yeah?’ James offers Sirius which he responds to with a grateful nod and an attempt of a smile. James gets up and walks to the kitchen while you stay with Sirius.

You look up at him with a reassuring, gentle smile. ‘You can talk when you’re ready, Sirius. No rush, yeah?’ He nods.

James comes back with a cup of warm hot chocolate and places it on the table for Sirius, taking his spot back next to him on the couch.

‘I left them.’ Sirius breaks the silence, his eyes stuck on his hands fidgeting with each other on his lap. ‘It was about time I left my parents but… I can’t believe I just left Reggie there. He’s gonna hate me, he- Godric I-’ He breaks, his hands now rubbing his face as if wiping off all his emotions.

‘You don’t have to explain, Padfoot–’ James speaks up, but Sirius quickly shakes his head.

‘No. No you need to know why, I just- It’s so hard-’ 

You squeeze his knee. ‘You can explain tomorrow, Sirius. You need to rest now, alright? You know you’re always welcome here.’

You can see the look in his eyes. Fear, pain, hurt, regret, but also relief and a tinge of happiness. He can only nod as he looks at his two best friends.

James stands up, a cue for you and Sirius to follow him. ‘You can stay in our spare room, we’ve had it ready in case anyone wanted to stay for the holidays.’

‘Thanks, Prongs.’ Sirius manages a smile as you both lead him to the room which you assume will be his for a good while from now.

‘I’ll tell mum and dad in the morning, you should rest now.’ Sirius nods and thanks him again while he’s settling in. James gives him a pat on the back before he kisses your forehead and heads to his room for a well-needed rest.

You, on the other hand, linger on the doorway of Sirius’s room. He looks at you with a hint of desperation in his eyes which you take as a hint to walk in, shutting the door behind you and sitting on the edge of his bed.

‘Are you alright?’ He sits down next to you with a sigh. ‘I know it’s a stupid question but… I don’t know…’

He chuckles lightly, the tension in the air softened, giving way for a more light-hearted and calm tone.

‘I could be better, but I’m glad I have you.’ He pauses as he looks at you, a stare that made your heart flutter. ‘A-and James, of course.’

You look at him with a hint of a smile, your shoulders rubbing against each other. ‘You’ll always have me, Pads… Us.’ 

You suddenly stand up. ‘Hold on.’ You walk downstairs, grab a glass of water and painkillers and go back into Sirius’s room and place them on his bedside tables while he watches you with curiosity. 

‘What’s this for?’

‘You were absolutely drenched. Just in case you might fall ill, something for you to take in the morning.’ 

His heart skips a beat as he watches you show him the sort of care that not even his family has shown him in his whole lifetime. 

He grabs your wrist desperately but gently, his eyes looking up at you like a puppy anticipating its praise for a trick.

‘Pads? You okay?’

He gets up, hovering over you with a vulnerability that makes his tall frame appear small and fragile.

Wordlessly, he slumps his forehead on your shoulder and lets his shoulders sag. The weight of the night finally leaves him as he collapses onto you, letting himself break down into your shoulder. His heaving sobs echo around you.

‘Siri…’ You whisper into his ear. You’re not used to seeing such an emotional side of him. He’s usually so bright and loud, a proud, smug grin on his face as he prances through the halls of Hogwarts. Now, in the dim and little room, you hold the same boy that’s held your heart in his palm for years. The boy that’s now showing a side of him that he doesn’t even show to himself.

You wrap your arms around him tightly, pulling him impossibly closer to you as you comb your fingers through his long, still slightly damp hair.

Sirius shudders at the feeling.

‘Everything’ll fall into place. I promise, Sirius.’ You continue to whisper reassurances into his ear. You can’t tell if those reassurances are just for him or for the both of you, but now you just know that he needs them more.

He pulls away to look at you while you remain in each other’s hold, his eyes roaming yours as if to find a hidden message in them. Anything, anything to prove to himself that he’s where he’s ever needed to be, where he’ll ever need to be.

Your finger as it glided up his skin to wipe the tears off his face, the site of you in his hoodie, the domesticity of it all, the dense, moody atmosphere; all of it. It all clouded his brain, his mind, any sense of logic that he held onto. It was all fogged into a silhouette he couldn’t make sense of anymore as he crashed his lips onto yours.

The kiss was messy, unrestrained, as if pouring every ounce of your soul into that fleeting moment of closeness. Your lips moved together in a trembling dance, every touch drenched in vulnerability and an aching need to hold on. It was as though the world had shrunk to just the space between you.

You both pull away reluctantly in the search for air, panting exasperatedly as your eyes never break the foggy stares you give each other. In that moment, Sirius knew he wasn’t alone anymore. For the first time, the weight of his past felt lighter—not gone, but shared. And as your laughter filled the small room, he realized this was what home felt like.

‘Took you only four years, Pads.’

You both chuckle, his forehead leaning on yours while his hands trace the skin of your neck and waist.

‘That all you’ve got to say, darling?’

You smile up at him. ‘Trust me, there’s so much I’ve got to say.’

He pecks your lips. He couldn’t get enough of you and he’s only just started.

‘Good thing I’m stuck here with you then, huh?'