#there are also just some other personal-er reasons

[is-this-fascism]

i found this on a joke post about first aid, but it's hard to tell how serious this person is being so i feel the need to clarify and maybe help some people learn some basic first aid. this is going to be for small, superficial cuts to the skin.

healthcare isn't free, but gauze and superglue are cheap

in today's political climate, who knows when you're going to have to rely on yourself. plus, as an American, i'm only $3000 in medical debt, all from avoiding hospitals after learning to treat myself, so you can trust me. (i am not a trained medical professional and am speaking from personal experience and research)

i'm going to start by saying you should approach personal first aid with an understanding that at any moment, you might have to accept that you can't treat this on your own and you will need to go to a hospital. just make sure it's always an open possibility in your mind. it's not a quitter's attitude, but actually an incredibly smart attitude. it's much more dangerous to push yourself past your limits over spite or stubborness or fear of debt or judgement. i'm especially talking to those of you who might have some kind of shame about self-inflicted injury.

it can be very healing and nice to tend to your own wounds, but ALWAYS be prepared to need help, and be prepared to make the decision quickly by knowing exactly what consititutes a medical emergency that is out of your scope. i talk about a couple of those scenarios in this post.

cleaning and medicating:

so first of all, for the love of GOD do NOT LICK YOUR WOUNDS. there's some factoid out there about spit having 'healing compounds' but you know what else spit has? LOTS OF BACTERIA. people get nasty tooth infections for a reason.

you don't need soap either. nor do you need iodine or hydrogen peroxide. if your wound is dirty enough that it needs soap, you should just go to the ER. soap will not stop a deep, rusty wound from giving you lockjaw.

you SHOULD rinse your wound with clean, lukewarm water. no pressure-washing, okay? just a gentle rinse. you can use soap to clean the area surrounding the wound, but don't put soap IN your wound. after rinsing, dab (don't rub) the wound dry.

a topical anti-bacterial (not anti-septic) cream or gel will do the heavy lifting in preventing infection. use a q-tip or clean fingertip to apply enough to completely cover the wound in a thin layer, then wrap it up.

wrapping:

band-aids are kind of a scam, yeah. they're okay on fingers. gauze is NOT a scam, though. the worst thing gauze can do is keep your wound too moist, but that's why it's reccomended to change the wrapping regularly. i prefer wrap gauze over pad gauze and bandaids. it's a bit excessive and makes me look like i just came out of the operating room over a papercut, but it's secure. if the gauze keeps falling off, replace it and wrap it better next time. sorry, that's just a skill issue. our limbs are mostly round and easy to wrap. anywhere you get gauze, you can also get gauze tape, which does what you think it does.

gauze holds the wound closed, keeps any medicine you applied in contact with the wound, and keeps dust and debris from the outside world away from the wound. use 2-3 layers of gauze directly applied to a clean wound and wrapped around the limb. just change it at least once a day. while you're changing the gauze, rinse the wound again and re-apply any topical anti-bacterial medicine. depending on the severity of the wound, you should only have to do this for a 3-5ish days. if there are signs of infection, it's a good idea to keep applying the medication every day even after you stop wrapping.

stopping bleeding:

the other main thing gauze does is stop bleeding. if the wound is deep or in a highly vascularized area, and the bleeding won't stop on its own, applying pressure with clean gauze will help. if it doesn't stop bleeding after a full five minutes of pressure, you're going to need to close the wound.

IF THIS IS SEVERE, I.E. IT IS GUSHING, THERE'S A SIGNIFICANT AMOUNT OF BLOOD COMING OUT, IT'S SOAKING THROUGH MULTIPLE LAYERS OF GAUZE, YOU'RE GETTING WOOZY AND LIGHTHEADED, ETC. GET EMERGENCY HELP IMMEDIATELY.

deep tissue damage:

if it's just trickling some blood but it won't stop, it's likely not dangerous, only annoying. depending on the location, it's a good idea to assess if there could be any deep tissue damage, like a tendon, muscle, bone, nerves, or large vein. typically you'll be able to tell pretty quickly due to pain and loss of function. if you cut a tendon, for example, you'll lose mobility down the anatomical line. if you cut a nerve, there will be an electric burning sensation or numbness and loss of mobility. most of these structures move out of the way of a piercing cut, but a slicing cut can easily sever things. research what the signs of various types of deep tissue damage are so you can be prepared to report it to a medical team, because you're going to need to go the ER for that one too.

closing a wound:

if there's no deep tissue damage and you feel you can close this wound on your own, the first thing to try is binding. clean the wound, apply medicine if needed (might be difficult with trickling blood but just do your best), and just wrap the thing up with gauze. wrap it tight, not so tight that you lose circulation, but enough to stabilize the edges of the wound so they don't slip or seperate. this won't work if the wound is in a highly mobile area like near a joint, or in an area with tight skin that pulls away from itself, like over the shin bone.

the second option is superglue. this works best with short cuts, no longer than half an inch. it's a good idea to have medical grade superglue in your first aid kit, because it's formulated to be totally safe, but regular hardware superglue is essentially the same thing and will perform the same function, and a drop of it to close up a skin wound isn't going to hurt you. just don't drip it into your eyes, mouth, other holes and orifices, or directly into any open wounds. yes, i knew this for years before the veritasium video about it.

to use superglue to close a wound, first clean the wound and apply whatever medicine. if you can, a light tourniquet to slow down the bleeding might make it easier. i've used hairties on my fingers and shoelaces on my forearm. just don't make it tight. you just want to slow the bleeding enough to keep the wound clear for a couple seconds. the thing is, superglue will cure FASTER when it's in contact with blood (or water), and youre going to want a bit of working time.

position your joints so the skin around the wound is loose. apply a drop of superglue to the outside edge of one side of the wound. NOT inside the wound but as close to the edge as you can get it. it's honestly fine if a little bit gets into the wound. place a finger and thumb on either side of the wound, not touching the glue, and then just pinch it closed. hold it until it cures. clean the wound again with just water and check if the bleeding is contained. if you did it right, there shouldn't be any blood seeping out around the edges of the glue. if there is, it should stop pretty quickly. if it doesn't, apply another drop without pinching and let it cure on top of the wound.

third option for closing your wound is to learn how to suture. if you can sew, you have a leg up here. you don't need a medical degree to suture your own wounds, although if you do a bad job and go to the ER to get it redone, they might laugh or scold you. so this isn't difficult, nessecarily, but it's pretty advanced and it will take prior research and practice before anyone should be confident poking threads through their skin. i've never done this, i just stick to glue and gauze and those have worked fantastically for even really bad and bleedy cuts i've had.

go forth and deny, defend, depose. while you're at it, learn to grow veggies too

[sakurawolfy]

I redesigned Chiffon slightly (not many big changes tbh) and then it made me want to compare when I first created her to now, because she is so different now 🥹 it's like she grew up... so here is a comparison of how my IkeRev OC was back in 2020 and how she is now in 2024/2025 (^o^)

2020 Chiffon:

- she basically was created for Twitter RP groups and I confess I just created her because I didn't want to feel left out of the OC groupchat (but between managing both her account and a Seth RP account it became too overwhelming to me so I ended up giving up on her for a while lol)

- I also admit I molded her way too similar to Mousse (likes to sleep, worked at the Civic Center, etc)

- she used to like to bake for her friends (I didn't change that tbh)

- much shy-er and quieter than she is now

- also she was clumsy for some reason, but idk why lol

- she wasn't paired with anyone back at that time also

- and here is her original first design made in a picrew:

(You can see how she looks shy and a bit "what am I doing oh my")

(Also her hair is definitely supposed to be darker lol, Picrew is a bit limited in hair colour sometimes)

And now for 2024/2025 Chiffon:

- she got a more bubbly, hyper personality and she is still shy, but much less

- more confident too

- she works at a bakery (or a coffee shop, I still haven't decided which one)

- (that is also why she still likes to bake for her friends lol)

- she also still likes to sleep, but unlike Mousse, she isn't an usually sleepy person

- but she likes travelling and maps and reading about other cultures (her big brother is her role model)

- if I had to compare Chiffon back then to Chiffon now to any character, I think the 2020 version would be similar to Noelle from Genshin Impact and the current version is more like Navia/Mualani

- she didn't have a pet when I first made her either, but now she has two... a deer and a shima enaga

- now for the slight redesign, I gave her less formal clothing (it is a modern au) and also made her bangs (fringe? Whatever you call that part of the hair) longer. Everything else is pretty much the same 🩷

Look at my girl nowadays, she grew up so much 🥹

I shall eventually do art of her in IkeRev's art style (and also more art in my own art style)

[angel-to-destruction]

i was doing so fine and then i remembered my old friend existed and now im suicidal for at least 4 different reasons

[blackfemmejeanvaljean]

I'm just spending this fine Thursday evening thinking about how I always see childfree memes about how nice it is to have extra money to yourself to travel and pursue hobbies and have nice things and how I live paycheck to paycheck often not having enough to cover my bills on time but at least I'm not paying for child related expenses on my paycheck which led to me thinking about how my sister told me my mom and dad got married because my mom wanted kids despite the fact they didn't love each other and apparently planned to have kids on purpose despite the fact they were poor and had only recently gotten sober (they met in aa lmao) and you know those families that can't provide financially for their children but love them to death and are emotionally there we weren't one of them so they just emotionally and physically abused me and my sister to the point we haven't talked in 3 months and I've only seen them 3 times in 9 years and what was the reason you wanted kids and couldn't provide anything for them I remember watching a tyler perry movie with my mom once and a character was talking about how how she was molested by her mom's boyfriend and my mom turned to us and said see some mom's are a lot worse like not allowing your children to be raped is not a flex I know it sounds like I'm coming down hard on my mom but long term followers also know I have smoke for my father this just isn't a post about him for once

[quarterlifekitty]

first, im a bit new to cod but idk…

thinking about ghost’s spouse visiting him on base or some shit, and everyone else wondering how tf he was emotionally flexible enough to bag a bad bitch 🫶

note: this is just my personal little fantasy world headcanon lol so take it with a grain of salt!

Simon maintains a vaguely human lifestyle by adhering to one very strict rule: rigid compartmentalization. You don’t come up at work, and work doesn’t come up around you. Never the twain shall meet, he thinks. And he’s not exactly a watershed of information when he’s with his mates. And it’s not like anyone is asking “When was the last time you got fucked, Ghost?” and seriously expecting a response.

He tells you about the crew, but not about what he does with them. Killing, espionage, torture– that kind of thing stays off the dinner table.

Let it be known that you do not surprise him at work. You respect his boundaries too much, which is why he’s so fucking serious about you, honestly. He calls, asking if you can run something to him. This is maybe the greatest symbol of trust he can bestow, as a man who has only a fraction of an existence in the eyes of the government: he asks you to bring a document of his. He gives you the instructions on how to find it, and trusts that you won’t look at anything you don’t have to.

You know Johnny lets out a low whistle when he sees you coming up with a manilla folder in your hands.

“Who’s that bloody bombshell, then?”

You spy Simon and jog up to him with a smile. He’s the one who embraces you, short but strong. Cue the nigh audible gasping.

“LT, you absolute dog.”

Simon rolls his eyes as the two of you are crowded in short order. You make polite introductions, but have a previous engagement– you really did only have time to stop by.

Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave.

Everyone is wondering how this could’ve happened. For the record– I think in this scenario, Johnny and Gaz go through a constant string of heartbreaks, and John is kinda married to his job. So in a cruel twist of fate, Simon is actually the only one currently with a partner, much less a spouse.

“How’d you manage to bag a right beauty like that, LT? C’mon, spill it–”

Simon doesn’t mean to diminish your value or anything, but his answer is not going to be satisfying, because he doesn’t find it that difficult to get women. And also, you’re his true love, so you’re perfect for each other and growing close to you was as easy as breathing. But he doesn’t say that.

“S’not that hard. Remember the stuff she says, don’t keep no secrets… dick ‘er down the way she likes.” He doesn’t mean to be crude about it, but from his perspective, is one of the main reasons why you tolerate him. Soap howls at the response.

He’s telling the truth, though! He has a scarily good memory. Remembers every friend you’ve ever told him about, every movie you’ve ever mentioned, every meal he’s cooked for you and how you liked it. He remembers dates, times, and lists with no issue whatsoever.

And he’s never kept anything from you. He tells you how the fuck he’s feeling, and you return the favor, even if it isn’t pleasant. The only thing he doesn’t mention to you are the gorey details of his work.

And you have never had more of a communicative partner, ironically. There were times in the beginning when he didn’t know all of the ins and outs of coaxing pleasure from your body, so he asked you to show him how you like it. And that scary memory is at work yet again– every sensitive spot, every offhand mention of a kink you’ve not yet explored together, every arch of your spine and clench of your cunt. He’s got it down to a science. Could write novels about making love to you specifically.

What I’m trying to say, at the end of the day, is that Ghost bagged a bad bitch by being autistic.

[genderqueerdykes]

considering visiting a psychiatric hospital, inpatient behavioral health unity, or other mental health crisis center? here's some tips about what to expect

i've been inpatient about 6 - 7 times now in various areas of the country and i thought i'd write down a few things on what to expect whenever you visit these kinds of facilities in the United States. i have gone in for psychotic and dissociative episodes, as well as suicidal ones. i cannot write about the experience in other countries unfortunately, this is my own personal experience. note that i can't tell you everything about your facility but i can tell you what i've experienced personally that generally applies to these kinds of places

when trying to get admitted to generally need to go to the ER first to tell them you are having a psychiatric crisis. use the word crisis. a lot of places will not admit you unless you admit you are having suicidal or homicidal thoughts. if you are visibly in a psychotic episode you may not have to admit these things but generally a lot of places won't admit you unless you are suicidal. if you aren't but need help anyways, mention that you're suicidal. it's not fucked up to do this. if you need help, you need help.

in almost all cases expect to be held for 72 hours (3 days) MINIMUM inside of that hospital. you cannot leave at all during this period. this is referred to as a 72 hour hold, it is for your safety. you are not allowed to leave during this time unless you opt to leave against medical advice (AMA) which will be noted on your chart. some places won't have this but most psychiatric hospitals will do this. please note that this is the MINIMUM hold! you may be there for longer depending on the severity of your situation

you cannot use your cellphone in most of these places. they will be locked away with your other possessions. this is to prevent you from contacting/being contacted by people who may be abusing or scaring you, as well as to prevent you from worrying about the stressors that brought you in to begin with. be prepared to not use any electronic devices for several days to a week. some people really struggle with this but it's vital in the healing process

you will not have access to any of your possessions outside of simple things like books and notebooks. you are not allowed to bring in anything that's spiral bound. you can't wear any clothing with draw strings or shoe strings. you can't bring in things that have elements that can be used to injure yourself or others. you can't bring in pencils or pens, they will provide you with some. you cannot bring your own hygiene products or medications to be used unless it's a very specific medication that's necessary that that hospital cannot administer

if you use nicotine, you will be given patches in most facilities, but some do allow patients to smoke their own cigarettes. most modern facilities provide nicotine patches

you more than likely will not be able to wear your own clothes. if you can, you will be given to on-site laundry facilities, or the staff will do it for you depending on the location. in a lot of places you will be given scrubs to wear. you will also be given non-slip ("grippy") socks to wear all the time. this is the only footwear that's permitted generally

you more than likely will have to share a bedroom with another patient. not always, but often this is the case. in a lot of hospitals trans patients are put in rooms with just one bed for safety reasons but this will vary wildly depending on location

there will be group therapy and visitations from therapists in most places. please attend these if you feel up to it, a lot of them are genuinely helpful. not all classes or therapists will be good, so if you feel uncomfortable feel free to leave, but i recommend trying to attend these

there are generally vegetarian, vegan, etc. options for meals so feel free to ask the staff in case you have a specific diet, especially medical diets

some psych facilities are small crisis centers or rehabilitation centers that are not connected to a proper hospital. if they are not, their resources will generally be a lot less and they will have less knowledge when it comes to physical health ailments

you may or may not receive a diagnosis. i was instantly diagnosed with schizophrenia the first time i went to the psych ward. i was clearly in a psychotic episode, confused, not entirely sure where i was. i was interviewed for a long time before the doctor came to the conclusion of schizoaffective disorder. other times i was diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder & depersonalization derealization disorder. i get diagnosed with DID and schizophrenia most times i go. your mileage will vary greatly depending on your situation. you may have wildly different diagnoses the different times you visit or you may get the same ones. you may not get a diagnosis at all. it's going to depend on your situation

you are more than likely going to be given new medications. much like the rest of the hospital, you may not be told the name of the medication right away. this is normal. it happens whenever you visit the ER, get a surgery, or are in other parts of the hospital, the name of the medication may not always be told to you right away. ask if you're curious about medications. they'll gladly explain

if a medication is making you feel like garbage or making your symptoms worse tell the nurses right away. you do not have to keep taking a medication if it starts to make you feel worse, you are allowed to communicate how medications are making you feel

try to take care of yourself and focus on getting better. your treatment may not be perfect but if you focus on yourself it gets easier. you're there to learn how to take care of yourself better. there may be "problem" patients but they are there to work on themselves too

if someone starts causing problems with you, tell staff and try to resolve it as quietly as possible as the other patient may just need some help that they weren't being given prior

feel free to ask for the hospital to let you know exactly what your discharge instructions rare. they will generally be setting you up with a lot of appointments upon discharge. this will usually involve an appointment with a therapist and a medication manager if they want you to stay on medication. keep up with these appointments, they will help. if you and your therapist do not get along well, feel free to find out how to find a new therapist

discharge can take a few hours longer than you make expect due to the amount of paperwork and appointments mentioned above. if it takes a long time for you, that is not abnormal

ASK FOR RESOURCES LIKE SOCIAL WORKERS, CASE MANAGEMENT AND SO ON. THIS IS HUGE: if you have EVER been admitted in-patient for mental health reasons you almost always qualify for case management services through your insurance. if you don't have insurance you still may qualify for low or no cost services. these are people who can help you sign up for government and public assistance. they can help you figure out how to pay your bills. they can help you find transportation, help with rent, help navigate addiction, help with signing up for housing programs and so on.

"severe" mental health (schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, PTSD, dissociative identity disorder, autism, personality disorders, OCD, and other conditions) & substance use disorder diagnoses often qualify you for discounted housing programs, bill/rental assistance, resources for navigating and escaping homelessness, help with children & family, and other great resources. take advantage of them especially if you genuinely struggle with these things

there are patient advocates for most hospitals. these people are literally hired to listen to patient feedback about their time in the facility. if you were treated well, poorly, or have questions or concerns about the treatment process, google "(facility name) patient advocate" or look through your discharge paperwork to see if that information is included. you can also call the hospital and ask to be transferred

don't look down on other patients who have more severe symptoms than you do. if someone has no idea where they are, what they're doing, or how to interact with other patients don't laugh at them, gossip about them or look down on them. you're there for help just like they are. similarly, don't look down on anyone who you believe has less severe symptoms than you do. you can't tell just by looking

certain things may vary depending on where you're located, but this is what i've experienced going to hospitals in 3 different states. i hope this information can be helpful to some. if you have any questions feel free to ask i'm happy to help!

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations Pt. 3!!!

Now that Leo and Raph are done, it's Donnie's turn for character analysis as a writing reference. So without further ado,

Donnie Character Notes

Language Habits:

Straight up talks like a redditor who hasn't touched enough grass (affectionate)

Oscillates between very scientific paper polished, sometimes adding a dazzle of shakespearean for dramatics, or abbreviations/a shorter version of a word with a more fun connotation (i.e. "brekkie" instead of breakfast)

Uses food as surprised exclamations or curses, "oh my peaches and cream", "banana pancakes!"

Emphasizes each syllable of a long word when he's excited or trying to make a point. Conquered becomes con-qu-ered

Either exaggerates his speech or speaks in deadpan

The science terms he uses as battle cries aren't chosen at random, but rather are related to the action/subject at hand, i.e. yelling "fibonacci" when throwing his spinning tech-bo

Will overly describe an item or a situation, and often gets caught up in these observations before processing what just happened

Will repeatedly yell "help!" when he's distressed and/or outnumbered

Refers to Mikey as "Michael"

Refers to his brothers as "brethren" or "gentlemen"

Refers to splinter as either "father", "papa", or "dad" depending on the weight of the situation

Refers to his tech as his "babies"

Answers the phone with, "You're conversing with Donatello"

Uses "gesundheit" instead of bless you

Personality:

The fixer, he supplies the family with tech and resources. He always has a trinket made for the situation at hand and/or offers his knowledge/data collected. He's always prepared to help. Even with outside resources, he likes to feel useful in solving their problems (i.e., building Todd that dog park)

The theater kid, in a similar vein to leo, Donnie has his own style of dramatics. He often uses shakespeare-like language, is mentioned to regularly recite the jupiter jim musical soundtrack, and has a music mode for his battle shell. He belongs on a stage, or at least thinks he does

Not good at lying, despite the glamour he can put on in the spotlight. This may be due to the side of himself that over explains his thoughts

An over-thinker, who really tends to over-complicate things. His first theory or idea will always be the most extreme buck-wild concept. After some filtering, he still word vomits

A dreamer/big idea guy. He does have big ideas and goals. A lot of these he's able to put into place, although some go a little haywire (see Albearto). He doesn't do things in halves, and puts everything into a project

Meticulous, someone who's very detail oriented. As mentioned before he tends to over-complicates things. This may be impacted by his love for data and collecting information (he does record Everything for a reason)

Always on the edge of violence, which is surprising. Donnie's not known as being the angry archetype of tmnt, but he can get a little violent in his fighting style and does often cite his desire to use lethal force

Low empathy, which is mainly due to his issues processing and recognizing emotions. He's been pegged as unemotional, but in canon he's rather emotional and expressionate, just lacking the skills to process such emotion (he's just like me fr)

Praise motivated, as seen with his interactions with Splinter. Also desires the praise of his brothers, who he doesn't feel understand him with all the teasing that's sent towards his direction. This also pushes him to seek validation and acceptance in other groups (i.e. the purple dragons), to feel a sense of security or belonging

Ignores his own mistakes, and will often pretend like they didn't exist or ever happen. This most likely has to do with his desire for praise, so he feels bad when he fails. If he never made a mistake, he never has to feel bad

Miscellaneous:

Fourth to unlock mystic powers

Uses "Bootyyyshaker9000" as most of his usernames and passwords, with his alt. username being "Alpha-Bootyyyshaker9000"

Has a fear of bees, spiders, and of course beach balls

Breaks the fourth wall the most

Loves the smell of pineapple, hates the texture

Has a hobby of rooting around in the junkyard and dumpster diving

Uses cheat codes in video games

Mikey's next of course :)

[lxvvie]

Couples Shit with Simon Riley, Missus Princess Daddy edition:

Little Bean Riley (Simon calls her "Beanie" or "Bean" because she looked like a bean when she would scrunch up while sleeping as a baby) is a daddy's girl through and through, the apple of Simon's eye. It's his family's world, mate. He's just living happily in it. He also swears she would look at him like he was the most interesting science experiment and the most traitorous subject ever when she was a baby. Mm. He doesn't know where she got that from. ("You sure about that, Si?")

After you would feed her, she wouldn't be content just sitting in her baby chair. Simon would hold her with one arm and eat and drink with the other. Cue Queen Bean staring at him or, er, his food and drink and grabbing at it. "No, Beanie," Simon would gently say and there goes that stare again. How dare you say no to your Queen Bean, peasant father.

It's a pain in the ass that he has to shave a lot but it is what it is. Queen Bean does not approve, however, because while she loves to touch his scars and crooked nose, she really likes his stubble. For some odd reason. Cue the look of disappointment. Your baby girl turns to you for your support in this betrayal. "I know, sweetheart. I think the same thing," you say and Simon wonders where you two went wrong because you're supposed to be a TEAM lmao.

Queen Bean getting older and while she doesn't know what Simon truly does, the little girl is smart. She knows enough to know that Daddy should not be getting all the boo-boos he's getting when he comes home and she lets him know. "Bad, Daddy. Bad!" You nod in approval. Bloody hell, he's outmatched in his own home. "Sorry, Beanie," Simon says, but Her Majesty shan't be appeased that way. A trip to her and Simon's favorite bakery would suffice. She promises not to tell you about it.

Her Majesty has seen her destiny and come into her role. Thank you, Disney. Bean knows what she must do. She knows what Daddy must do. When Queen Bean can no longer protect the denizens of... Rileyland, Daddy must step up, and so, in pure Disney and Queen Bean flair, she crowns him... Princess Daddy of Rileyland. You tried your damndest not to laugh in Simon's face. Honestly. Truly. Not really. The name has stuck and now Simon is Princess Daddy around the house and he wonders how his eyeballs haven't managed to fall out what with the way he rolls his eyes so much. Just like there can only be one Missus, there can only be one Princess Daddy. It is him, Simon Riley, First of His Name, Missus Princess Daddy. He wears his titles with pride.

Princess Daddy must comport himself with the utmost poise befitting his status. The pinky finger must be out when drinking one's cuppa. He must wave to his subjects (Queen Bean's toys) with regality—bloody hell, he doesn't wave—and SWEAR JAR, Princess Daddy of Rileyland! He must also be available for cuddles, movie time, and daddy-daughter dates to the toy store and bakery. Always, Beanie. Always.

Simon has also become Beanie's personal mobile throne and jungle gym. A Queen's feet should never touch the ground after all. It's the way her eyes light up when she sits atop his shoulders and sees the world around her. The world that can (and will) one day be hers. It's the joy she radiates and it makes Simon's heart swell. And this is why he takes his duty as Missus Princess Daddy, Protector of Rileyland so seriously...

...Well, until he had to undergo a makeover. Because you and Bean watched the Princess Diaries. And because you really love doing self-care. Bloody hell. Have you ever seen a 6'4" mountain of a man, with scars and stubble aplenty, wearing a Hello Kitty face mask and some glittery nail polish on his fingers? Well, Simon supposes there's a first time for anything. His skin's never felt better, though, and he's yet to take the nail polish off. Mm. "Makes the wedding band stand out, yeah?" he asks you, and it actually does. Queen Beanie has impeccable taste as always.

And when your baby girl gets sick, Princess Daddy never leaves his daughter's side. Like hell he ever would. He must protect Rileyland after all. He's there to tuck her in, give her medicine, and soothe her pain as best he can. He risks the back pain, huge frame wrapped protectively around Queen Beanie as they nap in her bed. It's the cutest thing. You drape another blanket over them both before busying yourself with your own devices. You and Beanie couldn't ask for a better Protector.

[hadesrise]

## not like any other !!

summary──── harry noticed you’re not like any other slytherin

pairings──── harry james potter x male reader

warnings──── fluff, mutual pining, foul language, reader being an adorable slytherin, touch-deprived harry, just the chosen one thirsting over reader lmao, mentions of making out, soft!slytherin reader, pet names ( darling, love )

author’s note──── rewatching harry potter made me recall the time when i used to fantasize about two persons from supposedly rival houses falling for each other and saying “fuck it” to their rivalry before making out. yes, it's typical, but i like it just the way it is.

Of all the houses in Hogwarts, it’s well known that Slytherin is the most disliked one due to their personality that doesn’t seem to include kindness regardless of how others treat them. This might have only been a stereotype that students from other houses pushed on Slytherin, but they had a very reasonable excuse for thinking of them that way because of a particular blonde haired snake and his goons that terrorise anyone and everyone they come across. Not only that, but most people from Slytherin are unpleasant to say the least and Harry can only name a few who aren’t, like Professor Slughorn for example.

So, understandably, Harry thought you’re going to be as unpleasant as other Slytherins too after Hermione accidentally bumped into you and dropped her books to scatter all over the ground. The Golden trio were walking down the hallway leading towards Hagrid’s hut, talking to one another about how Professor Trelawney freaked out again today at Divination, with Hermione carrying books more heavier than usual (the two boys offered to carry them but she refused), before they turned a corner and she collided on a rather hard chest.

She was going to apologise, but her eyes — in sync with Harry’s and Ron’s — landed on the green colored tie with silver stripes, and the blood immediately drained from her face. It’s not like she can’t defend herself, considering she sucker punched Malfoy on the third year, but dealing with a bunch of snakes can be really exhausting sometimes and frankly, she isn’t in the mood to fight with them today.

Without a word, Hermione crouches down to pick up her books. Much to their surprise, the Slytherin knelt down to help her gather the heavier and thicker books Ron and Harry were about to pick up.

When they finally made an effort to look at the unusual Slytherin Hermione bumped into, Harry was surprised to see a very good looking and attractive boy with (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes that seemed to spark under the light. Despite the books being heavy, you carried it easily as if they have the weight of a feather, placing another book on top of them — Harry figured you were reading it before the disaster struck.

“Are these books from Hagrid?”

The Chosen One felt his stomach fill with butterflies and heart suddenly beat rapidly at the sound of your soothing voice.

He was so used to Slytherins having that obnoxiously annoying voice, where he doesn’t know whether to cover his ears or rip them away from the sides of his head. But your voice was, even with a tone deeper than average, smooth and gentle. There was no hint of venom, distaste, unpleasantness, or despise. Just curiosity and interest. Harry also noticed you called Hagrid by his name rather than the awful big oaf other Slytherins call him all the time.

“Oh, er — Yes.” It took a while for Hermione to overcome the surprise and provide an answer.

“Interesting,” You hummed quietly. “I should drop by Hagrid and burrow some of his books too. He must have the book of Ancient Magical Creatures.” Muttering to yourself, the Golden trio couldn’t help but crack a smile when you seem to forget for a split second that you weren’t alone.

Gathering some courage, Harry decides to break your little bubble by hesitantly speaking. “Er — excuse me?”

“Yes?” You turn to look and catch his emerald eyes.

“You can come with us if you want. We don’t mind.”

A tiny bit of smile forms on your lips, almost unnoticeable. “With pleasure. Though, I don’t suppose it’s alright for Gryffindors to walk around with a Slytherin.” You glanced around, “Some of the people from your house doesn’t tolerate their fellow Gryffindors hanging out with the rival house.”

“I think you’re alright,” Ron says reluctantly.

“If you say so.” Amusement flashes across your eyes. “Also, I’ll carry these books instead.” You didn’t let Hermione protest as you began to walk nonchalantly towards Hagrid’s hut with a slight delay to your steps; Harry figured you were purposely walking slower than your normal pace so it would be easy to walk with your shoulders lining with theirs.

You introduced yourself to them after successfully burrowing a book from Hagrid that you were searching for.

Ever since then, Harry would find himself scanning every classroom he’s in to look for you, taking mental notes of the similar classes you have together, and if you’re nowhere to be seen, he would just attempt to at least catch a glimpse of you in the Great Hall by the Slytherin table. Sometimes, when he’s fortunate enough, your eyes would meet his across the hall and you would give him the faintest of smile before returning to your meal. Other times, when the both of you are free, you would talk with each other for a while until the next class comes.

Spending his time with you made Harry notice things — such as how you’re mostly quiet, which isn’t very common in Slytherin; their loud voices being very distinguishable in the Great Hall explains that. You’re also a bit of a bookworm as he often sees you carrying or reading them around, it made him wonder why you weren’t placed in Ravenclaw, but he suppose being interested in books doesn’t automatically make someone a Ravenclaw. He also noticed the way your facial expression rarely shows rapid or strong emotions, mostly expressing boredom to anyone and anything around you, if not, your face just remains emotionless with a what Harry knew was called resting bitch face. Though, your wonderful eyes do spark seemingly brighter when you’re with him.

Another brilliant thing is finding out you don’t tolerate any of Malfoy’s bullshit.

You seem to disagree with everything the blonde says, which leads to Malfoy spitting some nasty insults in attempt to get under your skin, only to cower away when you raise a brow at him paired with deadly calm expression, which is much scarier than anything in Harry’s opinion. You were definitely not like any other Slytherin he’s ever met.

“Ron, getting a detention at potions isn’t a good reason to set Professor Snape’s office on fire!” Hermione hissed.

“But ‘ermione, ‘e’s horrible!” Retorts Ron and turns to his best friend to plead, “Back me up ‘ere, mate!”

However, he doesn’t receive a response as Harry was too busy ogling at a particular someone by the Slytherin’s table, his hand not moving from the parchment that began to be soaked in black ink due to his quill being pressed on it. Ron and Hermione looked at each other questioningly and followed Harry’s gaze, their eyes landing on you eating quietly while ignoring the chaos members from your house were bringing. You almost looked peaceful despite surrounded by loud chattering, laughter, and the clinks of utensils against the plate.

Your patience isn’t high; you often get annoyed easily, but the way you’re unbothered no matter what’s happening around you made it seem like your patience was limitless.

Hermione rolled her eyes after realising Harry was waiting for you to notice and rolls up the parchment she had before whacking the back of his head with it, successfully snapping him out of his daydream. “What do you think’s going to happen if you just stare at him?”

The Chosen One cleared his throat, taking a glance at you and quickly returning it to his best friends. “What am I supposed to do then? I can’t just walk up to him in front of other Slytherins.”

“I’d rather see you do anything than ogle at him everyday and act like an idiot.” She sighs exasperatedly.

For a boy who survived the Killing Curse and Voldemort’s multiple serious death threats, he was one hell of an annoying dork when it comes to love. He was painfully obvious with his growing crush towards you, even other Gryffindors had begun to suspect it, yet haven’t done anything to change the relationship you two have — sure, it can be called friendship, but Hermione and almost all of their friends could agree it is more than that. They couldn’t honestly contain their frustration at Harry being content with just this.

“It’s no use, ‘ermione.” Ron whispered when Harry went back to ogling at you. “He says he’s not going to do anything about it unless he’s sure there’s a chance.”

Sighing, the bushy haired girl shakes her head and slumped on her seat defeatedly.

How long do they have to deal with a lovesick Harry?

Searching around the school grounds, Harry finally found you reading by the Black Lake, not caring that your robe might get dirty as you sat on the ground and read another book. It was a windy day that sent calm energy throughout your body, the rustling of leaves and the sound of lake soothing you more than usual, allowing you to focus more on the context of your book. You loved the silence where no voices or other noises can be heard, just the sound of nature slipping into your ears.

Harry slowly approached as to not startle you, but felt himself relax after you pay him no mind and sat down beside where you are. The sky seems brighter than he remembers, with only small particles of cloud littered all around.

“Are you feeling well?” You asked without looking up from your book, and Harry hugs his knees to his chest, watching the wind cause waves of water on the lake.

“Better now that I found you.” The seemingly flirtatious sentence was uttered in complete sincerity and seriousness that even Harry himself didn’t expect. The tip of his ears turned bright red in increasing embarrassment as you snapped your eyes to him, seeing an adorable blush spread rapidly across his cheeks, avoiding eye contact with you at all costs.

You hum, bookmarking the page and slamming the book shut. Harry was now staring straight ahead at the lake, as if there was something interesting in it, making amusement appear on your usually expressionless face. “Look at you blushing, Potter. So adorable.” You whispered the last part, almost teasingly, and he blushes even more.

“Well, you’re adorable as well.” Harry dares meeting your eyes. His heart bangs even more loudly in his chest after seeing the almost loving look in them, finding himself admiring you.

All playfulness leaves your face as you stare into each other’s eyes with a mirroring hint of adoration. You shift to lean back on one of your hand while the other rise to brush a hair out of Harry’s forehead, before cupping his cheek, admiring the way his emerald eyes sparked under the warm sunlight. This is your first time seeing his face close and having the time to focus on his features more; you knew Harry was attractive the moment you set eyes on him, but you realised he looked almost ethereal at this point, making your heart flutter.

“Your eyes are really captivating,” You muttered, barely audible but reached Harry’s ears nonetheless.

He chuckled breathlessly, “I got it from my mum.”

“She must’ve been such a wonderful woman then.”

Your thumb gently rubbed his cheek and Harry couldn’t help but lean to your touch and close his eyes. He’s been touch-deprived for long, being touched with care and gentleness made him weak in the knees easily. A coo escape from your lips; an unlikely sound for a Slytherin to make. Before Harry could process what was happening, you had set aside your book and pulled him to your lap, settling him between your legs. Harry blinks, surprised.

“I’m seriously soft for you, Potter. Too adorable.” You sigh, burying your hand through his dark locks and softly scratching his scalp.

Getting over his initial shock, Harry relaxed and made himself comfortable, letting his body rest against yours as he laid his head on your chest. It worried him that you might hear his rapidly beating heart, but honestly couldn’t bring himself to care when you were being so generous, holding him, playing with his hair. If others were to see you and him like this, they would certainly assume it’s the end of the world for two rival houses to be cuddly with each other when they usually spit hatred.

Though, after meeting you, Harry had begun to believe not all Slytherins are bad — it’s just that people, including himself, unfairly stereotyped them as a bunch of evil-doers only because of the choices that older generation made in the past, which the young Slytherins are definitely not in control of. There are questionable Slytherins like Malfoy and his goons, but they’re not a reason for others to start generalising that all students from the snake house is evil.

Slowly and albeit hesitantly, Harry wraps his arms around your back and nuzzles your chest. You’re absolutely different from other Slytherin members, but he still found it odd that a Slytherin is this nice and affectionate, especially when you’re usually quiet and socially distant, preferring to be alone with slightest bit of annoyance directed at your fellow housemates.

Closing his eyes as sleepiness start to fall over his eyelids, the Chosen One wondered why you’re only doing this with and to him. He’s never seen you with anyone before, and when he did, you always maintained clear distance from them, as if they held contagious disease. It made him feel special in any way, but also confused.

“(Y/n)?”

His sleepy voice make you chuckle softly. “Hmm?”

“Why are you so affectionate with me?”

Your hand playing with his hair abruptly stops, and for a second Harry thought he made a mistake of mentioning it. However, relief floods him when you went back to massaging his scalp. “Isn’t it obvious, Potter?”

He shakes his head. Don’t want to assume.

Silence falls as you stop your hand again. Curiosity of your expression plaguing his mind, Harry opens his eyes and looks up without moving from his laying position — his breath almost stopping when he came across a very loving gaze staring at him like he was the entire universe. His heart swell as heat rushes to his cheeks. He attempted to hide his face by burying it on your chest, but you held him still, hand cupping his cheek once again.

You don’t even give him time to react before you captured his lips on yours, practically stealing Harry’s breath away. Just a gentle kiss on the lips, but enough to make his brain fuzzy.

Pulling away before he could reciprocate, you smiled. Not a forced one, but genuine and coming from the bottom of your heart. “Does that answer your question, Harry?”

Despite the fluttering of his heart and the urge to jump up and down in pure joy, Harry pouts. “Not enough.”

You chuckled. “I need to be persuasive then.”

Needless to say, you both missed the next class making out by the Black Lake and not caring about getting caught.

Ron and Hermione were freaked out. The reason lies with Harry, who’s been in an awfully good mood the entire day to the point even Malfoy can’t get through him and he began noticing some good qualities in some of the Slytherin members. Don’t get them wrong, Harry being in a good mood is great because the boy deserves a day without constantly fighting for his life and feeling like everyone’s against him, but attempting to find the good qualities even in Malfoy? That’s when the two gets really concerned.

When lunch break comes around, Harry was still in a brilliant mood, smiling to himself because of whatever Merlin knows. Ron and Hermione shares a look as they continue to eat, observing their best friend who began to look for you in the Slytherin table, his smile immediately widening after he sees you.

Hermione turns around just in time for you to look up from the foods and meet Harry’s eyes. Unexpectedly, a soft smile appears on your lips as you wave at him, not caring when your housemates see it. Harry chuckled, waving back, before you returned to eating your food in silence. The three of them witnessed Malfoy mutter something that caused you to roll your eyes and smack the back of his head with the book you were reading before.

“So,” Ron began after he and Hermione looked back at Harry. “Is there something you’re not telling us, ‘arry?”

The said boy only raised his eyebrows, unable to contain his grin.

“Come on, Harry!” Hermione urged.

Before anyone could respond, however, someone took a seat on the empty space beside Harry — turning their heads, they were surprised to see you there.

“Hello, love.” Harry almost melted at the pet name. You gave his best friends a polite smile, “Excuse him from your conversation for a moment, Hermione, Ron.”

“Of course, go ahead.” Neither of them could honestly deny a polite Slytherin no matter how much they want to.

“What is it?” Harry questioned, more than welcome to talk with you. However, you seem to have a different idea in mind as you leaned in without a word and captured his lips in a lingering kiss, hearing gasps erupt from multiple places — mainly Ron, Hermione, any Gryffindor who were wondering why a Slytherin paid Harry Potter a visit, Malfoy, his goons, and some other Slytherins who just happened to catch the moment. Few students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had their mouths open in shock as well.

There was a smug look on your face when you pulled away, smirking at Malfoy who was previously babbling some nonsense that you couldn’t possibly like Potter and are probably just using him. By the looks of it, you had succeeded in proving the blonde ferret wrong.

“What was that for?” Harry asked breathlessly. You caught him off guard.

“Oh, nothing. Just proving to gits that a Gryffindor and Slytherin are sometimes compatible if it’s with the right person.” You shrugged, resting one elbow on the table and putting your chin on the palm of your hand. “In short, I wanted to prove people wrong who says we can’t be together since you’re a Gryffindor as I am a Slytherin.”

“Wait, someone told you that?”

“Rumours of us being seen making out by the Black Lake travels fast,” You sipped on Harry’s pumpkin juice, which he didn’t mind even the slightest as he blushed, avoiding Ron’s and Hermione’s wide and intrigued eyes. “One little bird from Ravenclaw thought it’d be wise to practically squeal it in the hallways that the rumour’s impossible because of our houses rivalry.”

You snort, “As if we give a fuck about that.”

For the first time, Harry actually saw the Slytherin in you.

And he wasn’t going to complain, not when you’re not like any other.

© all rights reserved to hadesrise ──── stealing, plagiarising, or using my works for monetary gain is strictly prohibited. ask permission before reposting or translating.

[whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx]

Chat, I regret to inform you that I have added a new hyperfixation…so…

Agatha All Along Incorrect Quotes!

Alice: Hold the fuck up.

Also Alice, crawling into Lilia’s lap: It’s me. I’m the fuck up. Hold me.

Rio: I have an idea!

Jen: No murder.

Rio, sighing petulantly: I no longer have an idea.

Lilia: I have a bad feeling about this…

Agatha: What do you mean?

Alice: Don’t you ever get that little voice in the back of your head that tells you if something is going to get you in trouble?

Agatha: No.

Jen: That actually explains so much.

Lilia: As far back as I can remember, I’ve always had this little voice in my head telling me to “live it up today, because there’s not gonna be a lot of tomorrows”.

Agatha: You do realize there’s medication designed to get rid of those kinds of voices, right?

Teen: A bird flew in through my window and I’m trying to befriend it.

*later*

Agatha: Why don’t you quit bothering me and go talk to your bird friend?

Teen: Matthew and I are not speaking at the moment.

*the coven, huddling together behind a makeshift shelter to shield themselves from repeated gunshots*

Alice, hastily shoving the others behind her so she can return fire: Agatha, do you have any idea who would want to shoot you?!

Agatha, squashed between Jen and Rio: Many people want to shoot me. I take great pride in that!

Jen, glaring at the group as she hands over bail money:

Alice, tapping her shoulder: What about Teen?

Jen, glaring more: I’ve got to bail him out too? Where’s Agatha?

Teen: No one called her. We used Lilia’s phone call to call Alice and Rio’s to call you. Then Rio used my phone call to vote for American Idol.

Rio: :)

Jen: Rio isn’t answering her phone.

Agatha: Here, I’ll try.

Jen: Alice and I have tried six times each, what makes you think that-

Rio, picking up on the first ring: Hey, sweetheart.

Agatha: The ends always justify the means!

Jen: Do you know who said that?

Agatha: Was it Oprah or someone nice and great like that?

Jen: It was Machiavelli. A decidedly non-Oprah like person.

Jen: I bet you didn’t even finish the thing I asked you to get done!

Agatha: For your information, I most certainly did! Got it done last night!

Teen, whispering to Agatha: You didn’t get it done, did you?

Agatha, whispering back: I don’t even know what she’s talking about.

Lilia: I am at a loss for words!

Teen, glancing at the camera like his mom like he’s on The Office: Despite being lost for words, Lilia yelled at us for the next 45 minutes.

Agatha, carrying Señor Scratchy out of the room:

Señor Scratchy: *snuggles under her chin*

Agatha, kissing his head: You are being punished. Please stop being adorable. I love you.

Teen: I got a trampoline tent for summer sleepovers!

Jen, whispering to the other adult witches: …think of all the sex.

Alice: There are two types of people.

Rio: If you wanted to eat someone, you could put a fire under it and slowly roast them :)

Lilia: …three. Three types of people.

Jen, cautiously: I can’t believe I didn’t notice this before, but…Teen, you are a little crazy.

Teen: Aren’t we all a little crazy here, Jen?

Jen: No, I mean you’re aging-ballerina, child-chess-prodigy, professional magician kind of crazy.

Teen: It’s my mom’s fault. You know, we come from a Jewish family, but she used to tell me the reason Santa didn’t come was because my room was too dirty.

Rio: I’ve come looking for trouble. And if I can’t find trouble, I WILL create some.

Alice: Do you trust me?

Lilia, smiling proudly at her: Yes.

Alice, who has been completely panicking: Wait, what? Why?!

Agatha, awkwardly glancing around for help: Er…Alice, I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know what to say to people who are crying. So I’m just gonna hope that the tone of my voice makes you think I do, okay, sweetie?

Alice, sniffling: …thanks, Agatha.

Agatha, patting her on the back with a bit too much enthusiasm: No problem, kid.

Lilia: I told Agatha about it weeks ago!

Teen: She WHAT?

Agatha: What??? Lilia says insane shit all the time, how was I supposed to know this one was true?!

Lilia: Bank accounts are a sham created by the shadow government!

Agatha: SEE?!

BONUS:

Wanda, watching from the afterlife: so…when exactly do kids grow out of that whole emo, rebellious stage?

Lorna, shrugging: I don’t know. Alice is still in it.

[riririnnnn]

Noa really gasted all my flabbers.

Before this chapter (278), I knew that he is the World's Best Striker, but after this chapter (278), I can see why he is the World's Best Striker. He is literally him. It's like looking at some kind of genius mastermind of some sort. The "Instead of assisting my teammates to win 1-0, it feels better to pull off a hat trick and lose 3-4" makes so, so much more sense now!

I won't lie, till now, his character did seem pretty bland to me—just some dude established as someone at the top of the game who was, in the end, going to adopt the protagonist in some way and then the sappy ending of student winning over the mentor.

Oh boy was I wrong.

The curveball he just threw at me, hurled me outta this universe. And just like in Loki's case, I feel like a fool once again since I have misunderstood Noa's whole character.

Firstly:

You know how some things just stand out for no reasons at all? Like, it's a trivial thing, but it just keeps on silently scratching the back of your head—the above panel happened to be that exact thing for me. My dumb ahh was really thinking, "Tf they talking about?" when I first saw this panel.

Before this small exchange, Noa was taking about how there are two philosophies in BM—and it depicted Kaiser and Isagi in the opposite of eachother—and this is exactly when, according to me, the whole Kaiser Vs Isagi rivalry's roots got firmly cemented. Yes, I do understand this rivalry started when Kaiser grabbed Isagi by his chin, but hear me out, okay?

You see this thing above?

Yes. Exactly.

We were told that BM's basic principle is Logic and Rationality, and considering Noa's personality, one can assume that Blue Lock-ers in this team would've been coerced into following this motto too, but Noa didn't do remotely anything like that. In fact, in all the other NEL teams, the coaches low-key molded the Blue Lock-ers to their respective mottos whereas Noa remained hands-off throughout everything—one of the main reasons why the majority of the Fandom considered him the worst coach in NEL.

But, well, I used to use this (above) reason to defend him—that he isn't tampering with Blue Lockers' originalities by letting them do things on their own accords just like Ego used to do.

Keyword: I used to.

Because I really don't know what to feel now that I've a whole different perspective in my hands—look at this:

These are Kaiser's words.

Kaiser was, in a way, already competing against Noa in BM, and now Isagi was added into the equation too which made him more hostile. I mean, instead of disregarding the rather, comparatively, un-rational philosophy of the Blue Lock-ers, Noa was accepting it and giving it room to grow! And if this philosophy won, then Kaiser (not in a literal sense) would be wiped off of the team! Further, it also seems like a small jab of, "You think you are the shit? Then prove yourself." which Kaiser was able to sense, and that's why, I think, he asked, "Are you testing me?"

Secondly:

LMFAO LAVINHO'S FACE! THIS IS MY FAV PANEL OF HIM!

I highly admired Noa for never stepping in the field until and unless the opposite team's coach had stepped in. It used to be my favourite argument for defending Noa's coaching ability. And just like my previous point, I can't look at this the same way anymore.

Of course, he isn't wrong—the coaches stepping in definitely throws off the balance in the field. But, well, if the power dynamics shift too abruptly and too much, it would tip off Kaiser and that'd ruin Noa's plan for the NEL—it would also tip off Isagi which would also ruin Noa's plan for the NEL.

So, in short and straightforward words, he always stepped in the field for the sake of himself and not for the sake of younger players in his team.

Thirdly:

This convo happened after Shidou's goal—PxG's first goal in their match with BM.

Right after these words left Loki's mouth, Noa went out to make changes in the positions of BM—he went out to suggest things and all just like an actual coach would do. And though this panel stood out to me in an odd way, I also remember finding it so damn hilarious for him, seemingly, being threatened by a mere 17 year old—I was actually going to make fun of him for this when this chapter (253) came out, but then I guess I chose to do otherwise.

I think it's because before this chapter (253) dropped, I was going to make a wholesome post about the possible relation between Noa and Loki since they are from the same national team—some kind of Father-Son relation. But then the I saw their convo and felt embarrassed, and probably decided to not talk about them till more of their story got revealed.

Now their convo makes a lot of sense in a different way.

And lastly:

I remember being caught so off guard by this. Like, till that point, Noa had never ever talked regarding Kaiser in such a way—it nearly felt as if he were rooting for him, and I found it so sweet that I even included it here.

But now that we have a bigger picture, it doesn't seem that much sweet to me anymore.

I can't understand how I dismissed his poker face in the (above) panel as simply his usual emotionless self when it clearly looks like he isn't surprised at all—like he knew what was unfolding in front of him beforehand, like he was expecting it and.. he was quite literally expecting it, didn't he?

All this time I thought that Loki was the sneakiest about his personal goals in NEL meanwhile Noa was two steps ahead from the start.

[cheriladycl01]

You're a dick Stroll! - Lance Stroll x Engineer! Reader

Plot: You created the best car for the 2024 season however after some harsh comments from Lawrence Stroll about a female engineer having been the reason his son crashed out in Bahrain turns out after investigations from the FIA people owe you an apology!

A/N: Obviously this is fanfic so its dramatized so in no way does this portray anyone in a realistic light and is just for the drama and the vibes.

"You innovations have been amazing this year Y/N all thanks to that brain of yours!" Mike Krack the team Principle for Aston Martin tells you, holding either one of your shoulders shaking them in delight at the new car in front of him.

You had been at Silverstone working as the lead mechanic/ designer on the new car throughout the last half of the 2023 season.

"Thank you, but you know it was a team effort right?" you smiled back, it really was a team effort.

"Well, we actually wanted to offer you a promotions of sorts!" he exclaimed a look of shock crossing your face.

"Excuse me?"

"We figured that you know the car the best and we want you travelling with us to make adjustments as and when needed. Last year was a struggle when we didn't have you here, you are the quickest we've seen and having you on the road with the team would really help.

"This is amazing, yes I'll do it!" you exclaimed happy that you were finally able to travel around the world with Aston Martin.

A month later and you were in Bahrain for pre-season testing of the 2024 year, everything was looking good on both the car, they were running well and the data figures looked good to you and your team.

You'd stayed late with a few other team members making sure everything was ready for the most important Sunday of the year, this race was the one that usually set the drivers mentality for the year. Nobody wanted to crash in the first race and no-one wants to not make it into the points.

You left, once you'd finished your checks on both cars, some people still working around.

"Okay, I'm off guys and ill see you for the big day tomorrow!" you smiled at them before heading back to the hotel that Aston Martin had placed you in. It wasn't a long ride, and you splurged on an Uber considering how much overtime you'd just done in the garage.

You did share a hotel with the drivers, as one of the lead engineers in Aston Martin you got the privilege of the nicer hotel compared to some of your colleagues.

As you entered, you could see some of the drivers sat in the bar, Lando Daniel, Max and his girlfriend Kelly were all sat together taking pictures, obviously for the .jpg accounts.

Charles, Pierre, Carlos and Lewis were also there sat at the bar, drinks in hand. However, with your attention directed elsewhere you felt yourself bump into something.

"Oh my gosh I am so sorry" you exclaimed looking towards the person you had bumped into that was now holding your forearm as if to steady you so you didn't fall back.

"It's er okay, you seemed distracted are you... okay?" you hear the person ask and look up to see your teams youngest driver.

"Oh Lance I'm so so sorry!" you say noticing it was him.

"It's okay" he says awkwardly before shuffling off. You watch as he walks up to Alex and George who were also sat with one another. You continue up to your floor before showering and passing out in your bed.

The next day your alarm was set extremely early, you came straight to the track having gotten ready in a record speed time. Your hair was whipped up in a ponytail and you'd nearly put your green Aston Martin team top on back to front.

You got to the track for when Mike told you to meet him there, he wanted you the radio engineers and the strategists to all talk before the race. Considering it was only 7.30 in the morning there were already loads of people in the paddock, from all different teams.

Where it was your first time you didn't know the protocol or anything for greeting other teams, so you just stayed your typical friendly self sending a smile and wave to everyone that you passed and made eye contact with.

Once you'd got into hospitality Ben Mitchell, Chris Conin and Peter Hall were all there, Peter held a coffee out to you with a small smile.

"Thanks" you smiled before you all started to talk about the race ahead, you guys checked the weather patterns and the track temp before trying to plan the race for both drivers.

By the time you'd done your final checks it was time for the race. Lance had placed P7 the day before and Fernando had placed P10 which was an amazing start to the year for Aston Martin.

"How's the car looking?" the social media girl asked, she was looking at the screen of data rolling in from the car but not understanding what the figures actually meant.

"It's performing phenomenally. Its definitely better than last year. Its also original and completely initiative, I've heard Horner and Vasser talking about it!" you explain having heard them interviewing about the grid and a little season preview.

She nods, and you talk a little before she leaves to go and try and film some social media stuff while there isn't too much excitement on the track.

However only 2 laps later Lance was reporting his breaks being stiff, which from the figures looked to be impossible. Before his race engineer could even ask for your advice, Lance went into a turn too quick skidding off the side taking Gasly with him. You looked up at the screen in shock, a hand covering your mouth.

Lance's car had gone sideways before flipping over Gasly's car. Lance and Gasly were both out of the race.

"What the hell happened!" Lawrence screaming coming over to you, all the pit crew who had just pulled Fernando's car in stopped what they were doing and came over to you.

"Sorry?" you asked pulling the headphones off genuinely not having heard him.

"What happened! Your the engineer who was here late last night. What did you do to my sons car, he's an impeccable driver and he has DNFed because YOU cant do your job" he screamed and you flinched taking a wide step back.

"Look i didn't do anything, I wasn't even the final engineer here last night. I think he was just unlucky sir" you tried to explain, but his face like thunder had you a stuttering and stumbling mess.

"Yes you did! Just admit you either sabotaged the car on purpose or your so damn incompetent at your job that you didn't build the car right! You know you should be fired for this, its completely unacceptable and I'll be speaking to Mike about having you removed because you clearly" he starts but one of the crew members behind decided enough was enough and stepped in front of you.

"Hey, sir with all dew respect there are camera's everywhere in here recording so just think about your image" he directs and Fernando having finally got out of his car and having seen what happened to you.

"Lawrence, i think its best that you take a step back" Fernando advises seeing how close he had gotten to you.

Instead he just storms out of the paddock, you release a breath you didn't even realize you had been holding in everyone swarming round you take make sure you were okay.

BREAKING NEWS: FIA LAUNCH INVESTIGATION INTO HEAD OF ENGINEERING AT ASTON MARTIN AFTER STROLL CRASH VIDEO OF LAWRENCE STROLL RIPPING INTO Y/N Y/LN HEAD OF ENGINEERING AT ASTON MARTIN INTERVIEW WITH LAWRENCE STROLL AND MIKE KRACK GETS HEATED AFTER INVESTIGATION LAUNCHED

It only took 4 hours for the public to find out who you were and your social media handles as you had a few people following you. One of which was McLaren who you had worked for under an apprenticeship scheme.

The only thing you really wanted right now was have a drink, so the hotel bar where you were certain would be safe from the public eye. You came down from your hotel room, you weren't in anything fancy and felt out of place the minute you sat down at the bar. Most of the drivers were there celebrating wins, or drinking away the loss.

It was like you had this beeper on you, as when you entered the room and walked to the bar all the drivers seemed to notice you. I mean it wasn't hard, your hair was thrown up in a ratty bun and your eyes were red from having read all the hate messages sent to your inbox.

"She's the one they're investigating because of Stroll's crash! His dad went in on her after the race"

The whispers all around you from people in the bar had you shrinking in your seat.

"So your the one that made me crash!" Lance exclaims from behind you, you turn round seeing his face, angry and upset and expression nobody liked.

"Look, I didn't do anything to the -" you start but are slowly interrupted.

"No you did, you know nothing and you shouldn't be in this job! Everything they are saying about you online is true, you could have killed me and Pierre because of that accident. So careless!" he shouts, which shocked the other drivers as Lance wasn't really one to raise his voice.

"Please Lance, I've already had enough..."

"No, you haven't had enough! You shouldn't be in this sport if you cant build a car properly, it's shit! It's not powerful and you clearly cant build a car like Andre last year!" he says, you could tell he was getting frustrated and it made you take a step of your seat.

"You're a dick Stroll! Andre didn't build the car. I did that's why i took the position this year as he wasn't performing as Head Mechanic so yeah. I didn't do anything to the car, the data was fine maybe you just are as good as a driver as you seem to think you are" you say before storming out of the bar.

Two weeks later, where you'd lazed around all day at home was when you'd got that expected call. You were currently on suspended leave where you were still under investigation. Mike had been facetiming you on and off asking for help to try and speed up the pace of fixing the car before Saudi Arabia GP.

It was in fact Mike calling again, however this time he was telling you to open up any socials and see what the FIA had posted.

CHECKS HAVE BEEN CONDUCTED INTO THE ASTON MARTIN CRASH SHOWING HEAD ENGINEER IS NOT LIABLE AND HAS SERIOULSY BEEN MISSTREATED - FIA FIA COME OUT WITH EVIDENCE THAT ASTON MARTIN HEAD ENGINEER IS NOT TO BLAME FOR STROLL'S SAKHIR CRASH - SKYSPORTS CLEARED FOR DUTY Y/N Y/L/N TO MAKE RETURN AT JEDDAH - F1

"Are you serious?" you say, the first piece of enjoyment in your life in the last few weeks has just occurred.

"Yes, we need you on the first flight out to Saudi, someone's waiting for you at Heathrow to bring you" he exclaims, you jump up cutting the call short and start to rush, packing a bag by slinging clothes in it not bothering to fold. You make sure your uniform is all packed as well as the essentials before running out the door and running to the train station.

You came into the terminal, shooting a text to Mike, not knowing who to be looking for. You look around to see if you can see one of the other mechanics or maybe Mike's personal assistant but you come short.

"Come on Mike" you whisper to yourself looking at your phone.

"Y/N?" you hear from behind you. You knew that Canadian voice all to well.

"Lance?" you ask with a slight sneer to your tone, you were still angry and upset with him and his father for jumping to such outrageous conclusions.

"Mike wants you there asap, so I suggested you come with me" he says guiding you down a secure back path to where it leads out to the jets.

"Your kidding me right?" you ask as he walks you out onto the den where his dad's private jet is waiting.

"We needed you there as soon as possible the car is in literal pieces without you there!" he exclaims, having heard from his father than things had been slow in the garage.

"Well, do you now trust me to build you an effective car?" you ask halting your steps, you didn't want to work with him anymore if you didnt have his trust. Throughout your suspension you had both McLaren and Mercedes reach out to you offering you a job with them once it all blew over.

"I do trust you, I just got angry when i crashed the car in the first race of the season, my dad blamed it on you and to me that seemed the most logical. I am sorry for what its worth" he says awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"For what its worth... you're still a dick. But i think i can put up with that" you smile, before following him over to the pane ahead.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc

[sl-vega]

Hi there! Recently stumbled upon your Hiori piece (I Don’t Know Much, But I Know I Want You) and Oh. My. Gosh. It’s amazing!! The story was so cute and I also love the little Karasu interactions you threw in; it matches their characters so well and it’s so well written! If you ever feel motivated or inspired to do so, I’d love to see where you’d take the piece in a part 2! No pressure of course, I just think that seeing how they’d interact in your writing would be really awesome. Currently on my way to binge read every other work of yours; I love your writing style o7

Thanks for reading my ask and have a lovely day!! :)

˚୨୧⋆｡ MALL MEET CUTES

part one // part two // part three

pairing: Hiori Yo x [FEM!] Reader

genre: fluff, oneshot, classmates to lovers, friends to lovers (?), pre-bluelock au/canon compliant

synopsis: hiori is still pretty damn smitten when it comes to you, so like the lovesick fool he his, he decides to drag karasu to the mall with him to help him find a gift to impress you, of course, in a strange turn of events it turns out you're at the mall too, so whatever shall our poor loverboy do when he sees you? (or in which hiori "soccer genius" yo, is dumb enough to ask karasu of all people for girl advice, and karasu like the wonderful friend he is, tags along for the drama)

CW/additional tags: mild language, potentially ooc, i actually did research on a mall in kyoto so look at me go, might make a part three if i really feel like it

author's note: AKJFJFHAFHKJ TYYY ANON YOU'RE SO SWEET, i'm so glad you liked the first part and all of hiori + karasu's interactions, it really means a lot to me that you thought i did them justice <3

"Would getting her makeup be a good idea?"

Hiori asked his senior as he stood outside of COLOUR STUDIO, it was a cosmetics store that he heard the girls in his class talk about occasionally , you among them.

"Or would that be too intimate? Do ya' think she'd think I'm trying too hard? Maybe we should've just stuck to stationery...."

Hiori bombarded Karasu with questions as he sighed and stared up at the daunting illuminated white sign of the shop.

His friend groaned and grabbed the sleeve of Hiori's light blue sweat shirt, dragging him into the store where a few employees and clerks gave them slightly concerned looks.

"No, we're here now so we may as well get something."

Karasu chastised his younger teammate as he escorted him into the lip product aisle, in which Hiori found himself surrounded by many unfamiliar brands with colourful packaging.

"Ya' sure know yer' way around Karasu, have ya' been here before?"

"I've been to their branch over in Osaka, my sister makes me get 'er shit whenever she runs out..."

Karasu plucked a small box from the middle of the shelf, making a point to read the label and the brand to make sure it was the one he needed.

"So what are you gonna get yer' special girl?"

He asked teasingly, as his slender fingers clutched around the small container he was holding.

"I dunno actually...I was hoping you might help me?"

Hiori replied, chuckling nervously. He already knew that Karasu had an older sister, so must have some knowledge on these kinds of things.

His teammate seemed to deadpan at his friend's request, feigning a hurt expression at his friend's question.

"So I'm just a personal shopping assistant to ya'? I'm hurt Hiori."

Karasu gave him a playful pout before breaking into a mild fit of laughter after Hiori swatted his shoulder. The older boy promptly turned to one of the shelves and tossed Hiori a small pink tube of lip gloss.

"Get 'er this one, the quality is pretty good and it has a reasonable price."

Karasu said nonchalantly as his back was still turned, still browsing through some of the shelves. Hiori looked down at the product tube and read out the label to himself.

"Canmake Candy Wrap Lip..."

He muttered as he rotated the slender cylinder in his hand, reading the adhesive tag on it, he realized that Karasu was right, the price was within his budget, and the packaging was rather cute, not to mention how the tube itself contained a good amount of product.

He was about to thank his friend before realizing that Karasu was back at the front counter of the store, probably asking one of the employees for help with finding something.

Observing his surroundings, Hiori thought that browsing the shop a little bit more couldn't hurt, he still had plenty of funds to spare, more than enough to buy you something else.

Hiori continued to browse the current aisle he was in, allowing his fingers to brush against the array of cosmetics, all neatly sorted and arranged by brand, type, and flavour.

As he continued to run his hand along the rows upon rows of products, he stumbled across another area of products that caught his eye.

"Rohto Mentholatum Lip Balm..."

He read the mini card board sign that was clipped to the shelf as he observed the packaging. The one's that were currently stocked were said to be peach flavoured, the price seemed fairly reasonable as well.

Now, that he thought about it, having a lip balm on hand would be pretty practical, Hiori hated the feeling of his chapped lips. Plus, he deserved some kind of reward.

Hiori reached for one of the tubes, and right before he was about to take the lip balm from the shelf, his fingers brushed against a stranger's hand who was reaching for the exact some one.

On instinct, Hiori pulled away, muttering a quick apology. He turned to said stranger to say tell them that they could take it before realizing that said stranger wasn't a stranger at all.

"Oh! Hiori?"

Oh God, it was you

"H-hey!"

He managed to squeak out as you gave him a soft smile, he was surprised he hadn't made a complete fool of himself yet. Without realizing it, he had promptly shoved the tube of lip gloss he was going to buy for you into his back pocket.

"Hi! I didn't realize you were the shopping type Hiori."

You greeted him once more as you observed the hand that quickly pocketed the lip tube, you didn't press any further however.

"Oh, I'm not actually, I'm just getting a gift for someone special..."

Hiori chuckled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. He chastised himself for his wording, of course he had to say it like that, now if he gave you the gift you'd know for sure that he liked you.

But then again, that would spare him the humiliation of actually having to say it directly to your face, not that he ever wanted to confess in the first place...

"Someone...special? I didn't know you had a girlfriend Hiori..."

You trailed off, you sounded disappointed almost.

Hiori's face flushed at your words, he didn't mean to give you that idea. He could slowly feel heat creep up his neck as you continued to stare at him.

"Guess I shouldn't be that surprised..."

This time you were avoiding eye contact, you laughed somewhat bitterly. Were you jealous? Part of Hiori wanted to delude himself into thinking that, but another part of him wanted to die right there and then to avoid making a bigger fool out of himself.

"N-No I don't have a girlfriend actually!"

He assured you as his face turned an even brighter shade of red.

Where was Karasu when ya' needed him?

Suddenly, Hiori felt a light tap against his head. It was Karasu! His knight in shining armor, to save him from the train wreck of a conversation. His teammate was holding a small basket full of a few products, some mascara, eye liner, and a few skin cream tubs among them.

"I'm gonna go check out now, are ya' done yet?"

His friend asked as he rested his hand on Hiori's shoulder, Karasu looked up at you, realizing that there was company present.

The silence that followed was deafening.

You glanced between the two boys, you had recalled Karasu from Hiori's youth team, but you didn't know much about the older boy, but you had spotted him hanging around Hiori pretty frequently, so you assumed that they were fairly close.

"Oh, I'm sorry am I interrupting something?"

You questioned as your eyes flickered between the two of them, your head was tilted slightly in curiosity. You noticed Karasu's grip on Hiori's shoulder tighten ever so slightly at the sound of your question.

Hiori shook his head frantically, Karasu was probably giving you that same unsettling stare he always used whenever he was sizing someone up on you.

"No! Not at all! But I should get going right about now..."

He assured you that nothing was wrong, but he was already flustered enough, and there was no way Karasu would let him hear the end of whatever this incident should be labelled as.

"Well I'll see you school I guess!"

You flashed him another bright smile before turning to Karasu, and you gave the older boy a curt and quick bow.

"I'm (Y/N), Hiori's classmate, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Karasu was caught off guard by your sudden politeness, but he returned the favour.

"Karasu."

He stated quickly before taking Hiori's hand in his own, you seemed to take note of this.

You were about to walk away, so you waved to them before saying;

"Have fun on your date!"

Wait what?!

If Hiori's face was red before, it was basically crimson by now. The girl he liked not only thought he was taken, but now she thought he was into guys?!

"W-we're not!-He's not-I'm not-"

Karasu simply wheezed at the current predicament, clearly amused by your assumption of Hiori and him's relationship and by his younger friend's sudden flustered expression.

"I wish! Don't worry yer' pretty little head off though, he's still avaliable∼. He's quite taken with you at that too."

Karasu teased as he winked at Hiori, clearly taking sadistic pleasure in his friend's suffering.

"Karasu!"

Hiori whisper shouted as his friend dragged him out the store, still laughing as the cyan-haired boy continued his flustered protests which bore no fruit.

Well at least you knew how he felt now...

BONUS!

"This is why I told ya' to quit flirting with me like that! People are getting the wrong idea about us..."

"Aww but I can't have random girls stealing you away from me∼"

"Shut up ya' stupid crow!"

"Make me prodigy∼"

[saintescuderia]

pancakes (pt. 7)

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: here we are! and CHARLES WON MONACO! (also sorry for the lance slander RPM influences me far too much)

P7 - 2.5L water bottle

"Oh for fuck's sake."

The lyrics rapping over the Metro Boomin beat were cut off as you turned off your engine. You huffed spotting the asshole in green getting out of the Aston Martin in front of you.

Mother fucking Lance Stroll.

Stroll got on your every nerve from the fact that he, as a paid driver, was the epitome of what you hated about F1 and the cash is king nature of the sport. It didn't help your opinion of him that his treatment of the Hospitality workers was very telling of his personality (i.e a spoiled little bitch) - but he also treated the rest of Aston Martin like that.

His engineers he bossed around. His PR team he bossed around. His fucking team principle he bossed around. You had never ever seen a driver be able to literally pick and choose what Media they wanted to do until Lance Stroll. Not even Räikkönen had gotten away with things that way Stroll did.

The worst part of it all, though, was that Lance's attitude of I can do whatever I want meant that he really thought he could get any girl he wanted.

Namely - you.

Your Supra wasn't exactly inconspicuous and Lance had (unfortunately) been in F1 long enough to make the connection that the flash JDM car parked in the lot tended to belong to you. And even though your windows were tinted a few shades darker than legal limit, Lance was getting out of the car right next to you. There was no chance he didn't know that it was you.

If anything, he likely made his driver park next to your Supra on purpose.

"Lord give me strength." You muttered seeing him come up to your window.

But then Lance Stroll had the fucking audacity to tap on your window.

You immediately reached for the handle and opened the door which caused him to stumble for the lack of space as you did so. "Oh, woah! Hey!" The Canadian accent pissed you off for no other reason than it reminded you of Drake. Someone else you fucking despised.

"Don't touch my car." You said, voice flat.

"Oh, er. My bad. Nice looking ride."

"Thanks." You said curtly, internally cringing at how he said 'ride' like that. You went around and grabbed the vast array of things you always hauled with you. Said items for today consisted of your gym bag, your workbag, your lunch bag and your comically large 2.5L water bottle. You always were carrying a lot.

"Need help?"

"No."

"I insist."

"Don't."

"Why you always gotta play hard to get?"

You said nothing, forcefully biting your tongue. You were out of practice with Lance Stroll's shit since Domenicali had finally relented and cut the amount of shifts you would be rostered on Aston Martin. Which had been a shame since the crew were quite nice and you really taking the piss with Nando.

Still, Lance Stroll was insufferable - and you were evidently out of practice dealing with his spoiled delusions. You were just glad his father wasn't around. God help you when it came to the European races.

"I have to get to work." You said and locked your car. There was a call from behind where some Aston Martin people were waiting Lance but he ignored them. Instead, falling into step with you.

"I don't see you around Aston Martin anymore." He said, trying to make conversation.

You kept ignoring him, hoping he'd get the hint. Pulling out your phone, you started to compose a to text to Oscar. He would coming here with Lily and had said something about finally introducing the two of you. Your eyes checked the time at the top of your phone screen. Based on what time it was, Oscar should've been here by now - and could save you from Lance Stroll.

to: piazzas 👼

where the fuck are u ?? lance stroll is trying to talk to me send help

"I don't know." Was all you said, typing away with one hand as the other held a bag, hoodie, bottle and lanyard. You lifted the arm to tap in through the gate and then continued to ignore Lance - who continued to walk beside you and speak.

"That wouldn't be because you're working for McLaren." Lance said. This made you fingers pause as the blatant comment caught you off-guard. You sucked your teeth and took a deep breath. You adjusted your grip on your bags and continued to type another message.

to: piazzas 👼

srsly im gonna fucking rage at this point

"I don't know what you're on about." You said and felt relief seeing the Read time-stamp arrive below your sent message and three dots finally pop up as Oscar typed a response.

Lance made that irritating sound - his laugh. "You know my dad will pay you double what they're paying."

from: piazzas 👼

I'm at the McLaren motorhome. In a meeting with some PR. Can you come?

You huffed and pocketed your phone. Your shift was at Ferrari today and so there was no logical reason for you to walk into McLaren. Then again, it was early and you were yet to get dressed. It should be okay. People rarely noticed you since you looked like some random trainer with the amount of stuff you always carried.

Except, right now, Lance Stroll was not getting the hint and pissing off. Meaning you couldn't exactly freely walk into McLaren no questions asked.

Especially after that comment about you working for McLaren.

"What do you say?" The annoying idiot stood there, still waiting on you apparently.

"What?" You asked, shifting the items in your hand and pausing in your steps. You were in front of Ferrari right now and considered going in to dump your stuff before sneaking off to McLaren. That would at least get rid of Lance.

"Just say the number. How much. Dad wants you onboard and so do I. And all that legal stuff we can sort out." Lance said with a nonchalant shrug that pissed you off more than it should've. "My trainer isn't really working for me anyway."

You stared at him. Was he being serious right now? Your mouth fell open at the audacity and you glanced at his manager behind him who was looking up at the sky, clearly uncomfortable.

But, of course, unable to say anything.

"Ah, Stroll! Mademoiselle is with us today!" You turned your head to the French accent of your other favourite Team Principle. Fred Vasseur arrived with one half of the Scuderia drivers beside him. Your eyes widened on the sight of Carlos there, sunglasses pushed up in the head of hair that had its own fan-accounts and was the star of many, many Tiktok thirst edits.

Fuck.

Last night, your uncle had thrown you for a loop. Carlos Sainz had somehow infiltrated your uncle's sphere with a video of him refusing to sign a Barcelona jersey.

This, your uncle took as a good omen and a worth his approval.

"Approval for what?"

"None of these drivers are worth your time. But this one seems good." Your uncle's voice had sounded through the speaker function of your phone as you balanced a ball on your head. Last night you had present for his usual call to his sister and Dia was adamant you cop it.

And cop it you did. His newest idea was not Jude or Vinicius - but apparently Carlos Sainz.

"What? Because Carlos didn't sign a Messi jersey?"

"His name is Carlos?" Your uncle had asked and you had, in turn, just groaned. You half expected him to make some ridiculous comment about the similar names being a good omen or something.

"Yeah. Carlos Sainz."

"Sainz? Hm." There was a short pause from your uncle. "Is his father a rally driver?"

"Yes." You had frowned, not expecting that.

"Ah! I know him. Good family."

"What?" You said, still stuck on how your uncle knew the Sainz family. "How do you know him?"

"Why didn't you tell me about him before?"

"Because... I never noticed Carlos." The football you had been kicking slowed as you found yourself frowning at the phone on the kitchen table. "It's... I don't know. It's just Carlos."

"I want you to talk to him. To 'Just Carlos' as you say." Your uncle was not relenting. "Go have dinner together. He has a good face."

Your uncle's attempts to get you married to what he deemed was a 'respectable man' and not, in his opinion, 'some limpy Frenchman' (you would often remind him Charles was from Monaco nor was it was like that between you two) or 'some tatted up Australian wanna be Italian' (you would also remind that Daniel barely identified as Italian). However, all of your uncle Carlo's options had always been footballers which, you and Dia knew, was just a ploy to move you from car circuits to football pitches.

But last night, you found, Carlos Sainz apparently had the Ancelotti tick of approval and he was adamant you and Carlos apparently go out for dinner.

You took your uncle's comments to be why you suddenly found yourself feeling a little awkward seeing the driver in the flesh. The on you admittedly never paid much attention to before.

"Maybe next race you can have her." The Spanish driver - who apparently had your uncle's approval - said. Carlos took a sip from the small coffee cup in hand. He was on his piccolo, you noted.

Carlos came up to you and you felt yourself caught out and taken aback by him openly reaching for the strap of your gym bag and your bottle, prying them for your hands. The surprise had you letting go and once Carlos had a grip on them, he nodded at everyone in green. "See you guys on track." And put a hand on your back to guide you into the home. His clear dismissal towards Lance made you smile and it made your face warm up even more.

Your smile dropped.

What the fuck?

"Um. Thank you." You said, once you were out of earshot.

"He's an idiot." Carlos said, with a tired sigh. This made you laugh.

"You're telling me."

It was then that you realised your laugh was nervous. You cleared your throat. You were going to rip into your uncle. And then yourself for being so stupid. Because this was stupid. You barely ever noticed Carlos. What? You find out he really hates Barcelona and has really, really great hair and suddenly you're tongue-tied around him?

"Ha. Yeah. I get that. And I can hold that." You went to reach for the strap of your bag on his shoulder. Carlos moved away.

"Don't insult me." He said, tsking you with a grin on his face. "Let's go. Fred spoke all morning about your pizzas."

"Yes! I did." Fred said, reappearing with his assistant who was handing him a paper he was half reading as he spoke. "Guenther didn't let me have any last time."

You couldn't but smile, remembering Guenther's loud curses echoing throughout all of Haas when he found you plating some aside for Fred. You gave Fred a salute. "I'll get right to it. Let me just dump my things in the backroom."

"I'll take them there." Carlos said, evidently not relenting. You sighed and let him carry them for you as you both made your way to the backroom.

Unfortunately, this meant walking through the entire motorhome in which case many Ferrari staff did a double take seeing you walk with Carlos. Whilst it wasn't uncommon to see you around, nor for you to have any interactions with drivers - you literally made their food and coffee - but Carlos was holding all your many, many belongings and walking to the small backroom that were reserved for Hospitality.

"Thank you." You said, appreciating the chivalry. What you didn't appreciate, however, was how your body was reacting to Carlos.

You didn't get why you were suddenly so... hyperaware around Carlos. Seeing driver content wasn't something new to you. Why did it affect you like this? Maybe addressing it would just help.

And so your mouth just came out with it.

"My uncle likes you."

"What?"

You quickly elaborated. "He saw a video of you refusing to sign a Barca jersey."

Your uncle had even sent you said video of Carlos, the driver windswept in his Ferrari, driving off when a fan passed him a pen and the jersey. You had to admit he did look good in the video and the way he drove off like that had made your eyebrows shoot up, impressed.

"Your uncle... Don Ancelotti?"

"Yeah." You said with a laugh at the name. The Don. You were proud of your uncle and what he achieved, earning him such a nickname. Dia always said her brother's intimidating Don cigar smoking aura had been passed down to you - and not his own children/your cousins.

You weren't surprised Carlos knew about who your uncle was. It wasn't exactly a secret. And considering the world of Formula 1, that wasn't even the craziest connection for someone working in the Paddock. An Alpine techie was distant cousins with Mbappé, a Haas mechanic was close cousins with LeBron, and Valentino Rossi's babysister's best friend's brother was a PR manager for George Russell.

So, no. No one really paid much attention to you and your uncle. The most it had ever come up was the odd few comments of the Paddock's EPL fans coming to you lamenting Carlo Ancelotti moving from Everton to Real Madrid.

"Woah, that's pretty cool." Carlos said, his eyes widening. "I definitely need to let my dad know."

"Apparently they know each other?" You asked, hoping he might shed more light on the connection your uncle somehow had to Sainz Sr. Your uncle hadn't managed to explain that curious bit.

"Do they? He never said." He said and you blew a raspberry. You really were going to give your uncle a piece of your mind. You shook your head and Carlos laughed, saying something that went to deaf ears as he took his sunglasses off his head - causing some strands to fall across his forehead as he was looking down at you.

Fuck.

He used the other hand to run through said black locks.

Double fuck.

The man seriously could've made it as a hair model.

You looked down from his hair to meet his eyes and felt yourself flush even more knowing he'd caught you staring at his hair. You cleared your throat again - when had it gotten so dry? - and spoke. "You um, you could really make bank doing hair endorsements, you know?"

"Bank?" Carlos asked, not picking up the slang.

"Money." You explained the slang and then thought of the Spanish translation. "El dinero."

"Ah, so was it the Don who taught you Spanish?" Carlos asked, lips turning up to grin.

"Nah I don't really speak Spanish." You shook your head and explained. "I just know that word from some from lyrics and stuff."

"Stuff? From living in Los Angeles?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. You blinked, surprised he knew that tidbit about you. "I remember you telling Max about it back in Torro Rosso."

Carlos' observational skills evidently had you in surprise. First it was him remembering your Egyptian heritage and now this?

"I, uh. Yeah for a year and a bit. I worked in a garage." You explained, feeling more awkward and, well, something else that you refused to acknowledge as nervousness.

You didn't get nervous. You had literally served countless celebrities and prided yourself on not getting starstruck or fucking nervous.

And yet, here was Carlos running a hand through his hair catching you off guard with how hyperaware you were of him.

"Ah." Carlos laughed and you stared at the way a thin gold chain glittered around his wrist. "Well, if you know any hair sponsors you'd recommend, let me know."

"Oh, yeah. Done." You said, going back to the previous conversation. "But I'm expecting a cut, then." You said, opening up a locker and beginning to stuff the bags into it. "Hoy por ti - "

" - mañana por mi." Carlos finished the phrase, amused. "It's different in Spanish, though, you know?"

"What is?"

"English you say scratch my back or something. In Spanish it's more about generosity. You take care of me so I will take care of you next."

"Oh." You said, taking in the mini Spanish lesson. Admittedly all your Spanish came from working with Tyler in the garage on Fairfax Ave and, of course, song lyrics. There had been a few funny conversations with Fernando - but nothing intimate such as I will take care of you.

You didn't really know what to say next. Your face was already flushed and you'd probably be able to cook something on your cheek from how hot it was.

You were going to kill your uncle. Real Madrid could win Champions League without him. And even if they didn't - well, Guenther would be happy to see another team finally have a chance.

"Also," Carlos casually continued, unfazed - or not noticing - your lull, "there's going to be a game tomorrow night. I'm not sure if you were planning to watch it."

Thankfully, his words momentarily did distract you from the inner monologue. Real Madrid wasn't playing this weekend. Atletico Madrid was.

Maybe it was Carlos being from Madrid or following the Spanish league religiously but, either way, it wasn't a game you had intended to watch.

"Oh, I mean I like Griezmann." You said, referring to the famed Atletico player, "but I don't watch La Liga games unless Real Madrid is playing." Besides, if you showed any interest in any other team, The Don would have your head. Your uncle still didn't know you owned a jersey of another team. Even if it was only for Mo Salah.

"No, the Liverpool game." Carlos corrected. "They're playing Manchester United, are they not?"

This was surprising. There had been no indication in the past of Carlos ever caring about any other team besides Real Madrid - let alone being that interested a whole other league. If you ever were going to talk EPL with a driver, it was probably a passing conversation with Lewis. Maybe George if the Wolves were involved. And that was when the drivers themselves initiated the conversation.

Max, and his love for your team's biggest rival Barcelona, was who you used to talk to about football, who you used to stay up and watch games or play Fifa with.

And since that was no more, you sort of lost any passion for it.

So this was very much news to you.

Carlos Sainz. Talking to you about EPL.

More than that - asking you if you were going to watch an EPL game.

"Uh, yeah maybe." You finally spoke. During your drive to work, you had vaguely thought about changing your schedule so as to be able to watch the game. You had played around with the idea of doing a workout after your shift tomorrow so you could stay up after qualifying and watch the match.

The only issue was that this would you mean you wouldn't be able to work out before the race on Sunday - and you were definitely going to be stressed working a whole weekend at Ferrari.

But if you watched it you could stream it on one of the TVs in the driver's gym - that way Oscar could workout with you also.

Suffice to say, you hadn't yet made up your mind.

"Lando and I were going to watch it. He's a fan of Manchester United." Carlos said, looking at you expectantly. "Don't worry, I won't tell the Don."

It was that look which made your eyes widen slightly, the thought suddenly dawning on you: was Carlos asking to watch the game together?

Something erupted in your stomach.

However, your reflex to any driver interaction had immediately kicked in.

"Oh, nice. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to watch it with the schedule. You guys enjoy, though."

Carlos opened his mouth but thankfully someone, a man dressed in the red uniform, appeared in the doorway calling for Carlos. The interruption was very much welcomed as the driver nodded and was resolved to leave you before your body gave you any more confusing signals.

You took a second, a steading second, before you slammed your locked shut and went out to look for Oscar.

“And there’s the young rookie, Oscar Piastri. Looking really good after his amazing win in Jeddah. 9th, outperforming everyone’s expectations!"

“Yes! He’s just arrived with his - is that his trainer?”

“She looks tough enough to be one. Wait is that — “

The commentators immediately realise and change the subject to something else to do with Fernando’s winning streak and Aston Martin’s upgrades. You sigh at the clip that had been playing on the TV in front of you where you could be seen handing him the Antinal Dia had been adamant Oscar have.

Zak had informed Oscar who had informed you about the conversations had between all the TPs about, well, you.

It was startling to say the least. 

"I'm afraid people are starting to catch on." Oscar's PR Manager said with a stern look as she stared at both you and Oscar. Her name was Sophie and despite her young age putting her in the same ball-park as you and Oscar... it still felt like you both were students in trouble, being told off by your teacher.

Oscar had asked you about a Sophie Wright a few months ago. You briefly knew of the girl from her interning days, following other PR members around the McLaren motorhome over the years. She was a little on the shorter side, the chubbier side and, unfortunately, these two appearance traits meant she was excluded from the other PR girls who definitely already had a group chat going.

However, you also knew this meant she would be good at her job. Sophie could blend in the background quietly, unnoticed and do her job well. You also doubted she would easily jump around for a better opportunity and do Oscar dirty. Then there was the fact that when you served her a skinny latte one time, she made sure to read your name badge and thank you with a genuine smile.

And so you had given Oscar the thumbs up.

Never, in a million years, did you think you would be here though. Getting a debrief from her as Sophie tapped on her iPad. You risked a glance at Oscar who looked indifferent and nonplussed.

"Sorry Soph," he said, "but I'm not exactly aware what this means exactly."

There was some noise at the door and in walked Zak Brown himself. He was still talking to someone outside in the hall and said a 'yep, bye!' and then finally turned to address the room he was halfway in. "Ah, here we are. Just the people I need to see." His eyes fell on you and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

"No trouble at all. I know you're friends with Oscar and just wanting to help him out." Zak said, coming to sit down. "Ah, so you've seen the clips." He looked at the TV where Sophie's iPad was still screensharing the clip from yesterday.

Thursday's media days was always the least loved day for everyone - save for the bloodthirsty journalists. Drivers hated all the mundane questions and the paranoia of microphones and cameras everywhere. And you hated media day because it meant extra long barista shifts.

"Yes, Sophie showed me before but I thought Tezza should see it." Oscar explained, using your nickname. Your heart warmed at how considerate that was. You met his eyes and smiled softly at him. Your love for the kid grew daily.

"Good thinking!" Zak said, nodding agreeably to his driver. You fought to keep your face passive as you regarded the McLaren CEO.

Your opinion of Zak Brown was that he got further than he ever dreamt to get from starring on Wheel of Fortune. And whilst you did admire him for not being brought up in the snobbery and pretentiousness of the generational wealth that F1 tends to circulate through... you did note how he sucked up to the those snobs and their pretentious generational wealth.

Namely, how he did anything and everything for to make Lando Norris happy. In your opinion, it was a lil cringe at times.

"Well, the problem is that it's getting harder and harder for me to just make it out to the rest of the Paddock that you and Oscar are just friends spotting one another at the gym." Zak said. "Christian Horner is running rampant, scared you'll turn Oscar into the next Max Verstappen."

You snorted at this. Unfortunately this drew everyone's attention to you and you knew you would need to explain. "Max and Oscar are polar opposites."

Oscar could very easily become a World Champion without you. He was smart, dedicated and very talented. And whilst Max was all those things, he didn't need someone to train him up so much as tame him down after all that Jos did to him. You guys had just as much sessions on anger management as you had sessions on endurance training.

"Either way, it's coming to be viewed as a breach." Zak said. "And if you breach your contract then - "

"I know." You interrupted him. He didn't need to explain that to you.

"There's also the issue that people think you two are dating." Sophie spoke up from the front. She tapped on her iPad a few times and up came up a few screenshots of Twitter threads hypothesising about the two of you. "Your Twitter had a followed increase of 150% since Oscar followed you. Which didn't help."

"And whose fault was that?" You said, looking at Oscar with an unimpressed look. "You're lucky I deleted that shit so quickly."

"Yeah look, my bad. The timing was off." He said, accepting responsibility. You still remember all the notifications of the Twitter shit-storm Oscar set off. You literally had to delete your account because of it.

"Yes, Christian did bring that up." Zak said. "And it's a good thing Oscar's lovely Lauren is here - "

"Lily, sir." Sophie quickly corrected her boss. You wanted to groan. Oscar just looked down to hide his smile. Under the table, you kicked at his legs.

"Lily! Sorry." He gave a sheepish look to Oscar. "Yes, you and Lily this morning was a good idea."

"Unfortunately, Daniel did like a few of these Tweets." Sophie added, bringing up the screenshots of a Tweet about you and Oscar that was liked by none other than @danielricciardo.

You clenched your fist, your nails digging into your palm as you thought of how fucking petty that was. Daniel wasn't a fucking idiot. Aside from the fact that he knew your type - (admittedly, the tall/dark features combination always got you) Oscar was so young.

If anything, you thought of Oscar, genuinely, as a younger brother. As you had Max. Daniel knew that. So he knew exactly what he was doing by liking those kind of fucking Tweets. Tweets you wouldn't put past Red Bull to send out themselves.

Because, if anything, they would be praying it wouldn't be true about you and Oscar. Otherwise Christian Horner wouldn't have any leg to stand on. That was how you got around being connected to Charles, anyway. Family was the exception.

"I know your contract has you tied to only working for Red Bull and Ferrari's drivers but--"

"Red Bull and Charles Leclerc." You corrected in a tight voice, your eyes falling down to the table in front of you. "I was only granted exemption to work with Charles as he was considered family."

This caused him to frown as he pulled out his phone and began typing at it. "I thought you were allowed to work for Red Bull or Ferrari. No new teams."

"Yeah, no." You said, making Oscar chuckle at the Australianism. "No new teams outside of Red Bull and Torro Rosso." You specified.

"Christian didn't say that." Zak said.

"It was kept really quiet." You explained. "Charles was, um, he granted exemption from my Red Bull contract because he - well, he was considered family." You cleared your throat, not able to even look at Oscar. "I was signed for Torro Rosso and Red Bull. Never Ferrari."

"That's not what Toto said at the meeting." Zak said, shaking his head. "He made it seem that you could work for Ferrari."

You said nothing. Toto Wolff had approached you once or twice but your answer had always been the same, no matter what he offered. Eventually, he dropped it. You just didn't realise he dropped it because Toto had sought out the fine print.

"Wait so why aren't you Charles' trainer?" Zak asked, looking up from his phone. "He'd be insane to not have you!"

You froze. How were you supposed to answer that? For once, you had hoped the F1 rumour mill had properly run its course and Zak would know better than to ask that obvious question.

"Eh, Leclerc's loss." Oscar interjected with a casual shrug. "Let's be glad we don't need to worry about that."

The hidden meaning behind his smooth words were clear and you felt your love for the boy increase tenfold at his save.

"What - if I may," Sophie started, trying to be sensitive with her wording and her eyes darted between you and Oscar, "what were the grounds for family?"

You took a moment to think of how you might answer. You really didn't want to but if this might help the boy beside you, you would. "Charles - and I, like, I dunno. We grew up together? Everyone just knew." You pulled at your hoodie sleeve, feeling every bit uncomfortable with the question.

"You didn't date?" Sophie asked. Your face must've shown something very unpleasant because she was quick to amend. "I'm only saying because the grounds for family are always a grey area."

You pressed your lips together and went back to staring at the table. "There was nothing romantic between Charles and I." You said. The room fell silent for a moment as Zak tapped on his screen a few times and then he spoke up.

"You also trained Daniel. He told me in 2021." Zak said and put the phone down and you wanted to roll you eyes. Of course Daniel would say that. "And I don't want to get into all the drama but you were dating him back when you were training Verstappen."

Zak did have a point.

A key point that you had forgotten.

You paused and watched the screen in front of you and the liked by @danielricciardo Tweet. "Christian's always had a soft spot for Daniel so..." You trailed off. "But yeah, you're right. It was fine even though I was contracted to Max under Torro Rosso then Red Bull."

"Hm." Zak said, bringing a hand to his chin as he leaned back, pensive, in his chair. "I can see how romantic grounds could be argued." He said it with a laugh, looking between you and Oscar.

You raised an eyebrow at the comment. You honestly weren't sure if this was just Zak Brown being Zak Brown - i.e saying dumb things to suck up since he was out of his element - or if he actually meant that. Either way, it pissed you off.

Because there was no fucking way you'd let that happen to Oscar.

"No it can't. Contracts aside, I'm not forcing someone I think of as my younger brother into a PR relationship with me." You said.

"It could work, though." Sophie said, taking a professional tone as you turned your glare to her. "This is what I was trying to say before. The Twitter comments about you and Oscar are not necessarily negative. If anything you've helped increased Oscar's public image and Red Bull wouldn't able to say anything about you two on romantic family grounds."

You were seething.

Thankfully, Oscar was more level-headed than you.

"Yeah, look guys. Tezza's pretty but not my type." He finally chimed in, lighthearted. "Besides, I think we should focus more on the car and that way it's a fair advantage to both me and Lando."

You looked back at him and took a deep breath. Oscar smiled at you, chill as always, and you took another breath. You wanted to give the boy a big hug.

"Look, Zak," you said, looking back at the TP, calming down a little more, "I'm sorry. I'm causing you all this shit."

"You got Oscar into the points." Zak waved off. "Don't worry about it. I just want to find a way that works for everyone." You sucked on your teeth. Whilst it was nice to know that Zak Brown was willing to take risks on you also wanted to know how this conversation would've gone if Oscar hadn't finished 9th in Jeddah last weekend.

Such was the way of F1.

Sophie then tapped on her iPad and the TV showed a picture taken by Ky Millman. It was of Oscar hugging you after the win in Jeddah. Some comments were displayed and you found your lips turning up as you read them. They were, as Sophie said, sort of positive.

kymillman

liked by mclaren, saintescuderia and 15'483 others

kymillman SUPPORT FOR SUCCESS! Oscar surprised many with his amazing performance in Jeddah and goes to celebrate with a F1 Hospitality worker and friend @ynusername!

view all 76 comments

halaaaamadrid girl help his shoe game pls

ln44girlieee @mclaren we need content from this duo plssss u have them right there

logansversion as if mclaren is going to post a couple?

f1fanforever they're friends?

ln44girlieee idc the level of sarcasm between them would be SO GOOD

oscarpastries i love THIS! 😫😫😫

justanotherinchident omg charles finna be RIOTING!

team44roscoes wait why would charles be upset ?? i thought @ynusername was with dannyric?

maxiel4eva_16 yeh 😒 jumping on all them aussies

You rolled your eyes at the last comment. Maybe it was a good thing you were off Twitter and barely used Instagram anymore.

"It'll be hard to argue that Oscar is family since you haven't known him as long as you did with Charles," Sophie spoke up, bringing your attention back to her, "but we can maybe try to build it up from a PR point a view."

"That Oscar and I are family and not dating?" You asked. Sophie nodded. You looked at Oscar, wanting his confirmation.

"Yeah, sure thing Vin Diesel." He laughed.

"Hey, hey. Fuck you." The grin on your face was contagious and he broke out laughing also. You liked this new idea and turned back to look at Sophie a lot more positively. You were glad McLaren gave Oscar the girl.

"Okay, so what do we do to show the world I've adopted Oscar?" You asked.

"I think you'll find my dad's already half adopted you." Oscar corrected. "He wants to see your Supra."

"That's perfect!" Sophie said, excited. "Maybe Oscar can post a story of the interaction sometime this weekend? Make sure Lily is there. Maybe you can play the tired third wheel of them!" Sophie looked at you as ranted off her ideas. You nodded, suddenly less excited.

Whilst it was nice to know there was a plan in place to help you and Oscar continue to work together, you didn't like the way Sophie said for you 'play' a role. The one, sole consolation you had going for you these past few years was the lack of needing to play any PR role. Hearing Sophie speak was giving you flashbacks to times long gone.

"Happy with that gang?" Zak said, placing his palms on the table. "We'll work on building the PR and hopefully that will get Red Bull off our back as we also improve the car!" He stood up and left, not joining Sophie and Oscar as they said goodbye to the boss.

"Wait, does this mean I need to actually start using Instagram?" You asked.

"Yes." Sophie said. Then she looked up from her iPad. "Don't you? You were tagged in it?"

"Like, I have an account but I stopped using it. I'm pretty sure I deleted the app." You said, pulling out your phone to see that yes, there was no pink app downloaded. You pressed the download button, knowing what was in store for you.

"Download it. You're already at 2.4k followers." She said, bringing up your profile on the TV screen.

"The fuck? I had like three hundred last time I checked."

"Five." Sophie corrected. "Your growth has increased since you started training the F2 winner who follower Y/N Tessio after the most controversial Formula 1 Tweet that ever was Tweeted." Sophie said, eyeing Oscar with a raised eyebrow.

"I already said sorry about that."

"Do you know how stressful you made my first day? Helen scared me!" Sophie asked, humour on her face. "Though, nothing like jumping in the deep end."

The Instagram app had finishing downloading and you logged onto it - thank you pre-saved passwords - to be met with a fucking plethora of notifications that suddenly had you overwhelmed. As such, you immediately went out of the app and put your phone in your pocket. You could deal with that all later.

"I'm not using Twitter again." You said, thinking back to the Tweets Daniel had liked. "Fuck that."

"Yes, only Tumblr or Reddit over here." Oscar said, pointing to you.

"Tumblr?" Sophie looked at you, surprised.

"Yeah? What of it?" You asked, defensive.

"Nothing. Just surprised. I would ask to follow you but Tumblr is the safe haven of anonymity. I get it." She nodded. "Alright, perfect. I'll draft up a PR plan. In the mean time, do you mind if I review your profile and send you some tips?" Looking at you for the last bit.

"By all means." You said, half wishing you could give her control of it like Oscar and be done with it. You just wanted to be able to work with Oscar without causing him any trouble and not having to worry about this PR bullshit.

"Perfect!" She said, beaming.

Your phone buzzed. It was a text reminder about you needing to go back to check on some dough you'd prepared. Back at Ferrari. You sighed and stood up.

"Alright, sounds good. I gotta get back to work. Take your supplements and electrolytes. The green one." The last bit was aimed at Oscar as you met his eyes and then turned to leave the room and walk, head down, out of the McLaren motorhome.

You took a deep breath as soon as you made it into the open air. With how things were going, it was likely that you would be having another gym session today. You arrived at Ferrari and saw the back of Carlos' head. You felt yourself gulp and turned to hide behind the coffee machine. Maybe you would watch Liverpool play.

The mention of your connection to soccer was also pointed out in the room you had just rushed out of. Sophie made a small sound and rounded on Oscar, shoving something in his face.

"Did you know that half of Real Madrid are following her? Jude Bellingham just commented on the post!"

She stared at Oscar, hoping he might provide an answer. The young driver just shrugged. "She did say something about her uncle coaching a team." Sophie stared at him, incredulous. "How was I to know? I don't watch soccer."

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[thesandsofelsweyr]

THE SUS BOY NEXT DOOR

《 PART 3/3 // READ ON AO3 // TAG 》

After coming back from a terrible blind date your asshole neighbor is the last person you want to see right now. He doesn’t have his signature scowl for you tonight, however. Tonight he seems terrified.

《WORDS》 1,484 《CHAPTERS》 1 2 3

《PAIRING》 Arkhamverse Jason Todd x Female Reader

《TROPES》 Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, Neighbors, Pre-Relationship

《WARNINGS》 Aftermath of Torture/Violence (canon typical), Panic Attacks, Scars, Blood and Injury, Swearing

《TAGLIST》 (in replies because tags aren't working in the post for some reason)

《NOTES》

This takes place immediately after Jason leaves his failed Batman confrontation and run-in with the Joker from Arkham Knight: Genesis Part 6.

Reader is a true crime addict who enjoys red wine 🍷

I just want y’all to know that this chapter was written for you—I prefer the story ending at Chapter 2 😉

If you enjoy the read please kudos, comment, and reblog ❤️

《 ALSO ON AO3 》 (comments & kudos there are very much appreciated!)

You catch the door before it clicks shut. You don’t want to leave him like this. You can’t leave him like this, so you inhale a deep breath and creep back inside, steeling yourself for rejection or another hateful outburst.

His weeping tapers off into sniffles and the occasional cough. You can feel his eyes following you as you pad over to his couch and grab the neatly folded throw blanket, casting a furtive glance towards his gun, which is still lying undisturbed where you left it, before returning to him. His eyes have fallen away from you—his head sagging between his slumped shoulders, chin touching his chest—and you hope he hasn’t gone away again to that terrible place in his mind. When you drape the blanket around his shoulders he flinches but gives no other protest, even pulling it more tightly around himself. He doesn’t order you to leave—doesn’t even acknowledge you’re there—so you kneel down in front of him, careful not to crowd him. He looks so defeated, so beaten down by the world; an abused child wrapped up in his security blanket for comfort after another unfair punishment. Your heart can’t help but break for him.  

You sit for a moment, listening to his soft sniffles and harsh breathing until you find the right words to say. Then you open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles to the floor again, his tearful eyes hidden behind a curtain of sweat-damp black hair.

For what? Passing out? Getting strangled? Knocking me to the floor then screaming at me? But you keep those questions to yourself, asking him instead: “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the ER?”

He slowly shakes his bowed head, as if it’s filled with lead, as if those awful memories of his are weighing it down.

“Then why don’t you lie down? Maybe get some rest?” you suggest. “I can bring you some Ambien…”

Your voice trails off because he shoots you a wary look. But then his face softens and he nods before muttering, “No drugs.”

“No drugs,” you echo softly, your brain jumping to conclusions again about this brooding man of few words. Perhaps he’s a recovering addict or something. You push yourself to your feet then reach out a hand to help him up. He stares at it then his eyes fall away again. He’s really not a fan of eye contact.

“I don’t even know your name,” he says.

“It’s Y/N,” you offer eagerly. “What about you?”

There’s a pause, and for a moment you think he’s going to ignore you, but then he answers, “Jason,” in a barely audible voice, as if he’s ashamed to utter the word aloud.

Heavy silence swells around you and you’re acutely aware of your outstretched arm hanging awkwardly in the air. He wipes his bleeding cheek against his shoulder, smearing more blood onto his hoodie. You pull back your proffered hand and use it to push a lock of hair behind your ear as you fumble for something to say to fill the uncomfortable silence that stretches on. And suddenly you're back at dinner with John Preston Anderson III trying to make conversation while he scrolls on his phone, pretending you don’t exist. You have to swallow down a bubble of anger that threatens to erupt.

“I’m… sorry for whatever happened to you, Jason. I… can stay with you, if you want.” Suddenly your face is afire and you’re mortified that you just invited yourself to sleep over at his place only seconds after learning his name. “On your couch, I mean,” you clarify, blushing furiously, but his eyes never leave the floor. Thankfully.

He coughs then shakes his head again. “I already ruined your night.”

A bitter laugh bursts out of you at that without your permission, and his head jerks up, startled, bloodshot eyes snapping to yours. You clap both hands over your mouth as if you can shove the rude sound back inside you. Guilt grips your heart as you see the pained expression on his pale face. It’s not anger or hurt or annoyance, but rather that same look of fear that you witnessed earlier when he was cowering in the corner, as if your laughter frightened him. 

You rush to explain, to put him at ease. “I’m sorry, it’s just that… if you only knew the night I’ve had. Anyway, I’m glad we finally got to meet. It’s nice to put a name to the-the face.” You stutter that last part, realizing after the fact that it’s probably not very nice to bring up his unmistakably-scarred face like that, or complain about your night to the guy who got strangled, so you blurt out before your mind can catch up with your mouth: “It isn’t every night that I get to help a handsome stranger in distress.”

Your face somehow turns an even darker shade of crimson. How many times can you put your foot in your mouth in one conversation? But to your surprise and relief you’re rewarded with a little laugh from Jason, a sound that seems awkward and unnatural, as if he doesn’t get to laugh very often. Some of the color returns to his cheeks as he blushes the prettiest shade of pink. When the corners of his mouth quirk up into a timid smile you realize that he has absolutely gorgeous lips, despite the swelling. Full and soft, finely laced with small silvery scars—little arrows pointing to where they need to be kissed. Jesus Christ. Again, you literally just learned the guy’s name and now you want to kiss him. No, that’s a lie. You’ve wanted to kiss him since his rude ass scowled at you the first time. What is it with you and Ted Bundy types?

“I’ll have to pass out more often,” he says shyly, fingers plucking at the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His blue-green eyes find the floor again, as if his script is written there. “Turns out it’s a great way to meet beautiful women.”

Beautiful… beautiful… The word echoes in your mind like a heartbeat. No one has ever called you beautiful. Your chest comes alive with sudden warmth as butterflies take flight. You want to stay there with him for the rest of the night. To kiss him on his busted lips. To wrap him up in your arms. To protect him from whatever hurt him. Instead, you grab one of the discarded ice packs and hand it to him, heart still fluttering wildly in your chest. “Google says you should get some ice on that. Your throat, I mean.” Goddamnit. He just said you’re beautiful, and you reply by handing him an ice pack. How the hell are you so bad at flirting?

“Who am I to question Dr. Google?” he replies sarcastically with a smug little smirk on those beautiful lips, but still does as he’s told, accepting the ice pack then holding it against his red-ringed throat.

You gaze down at him as you grope for the perfect words to say that will turn this scene into one worthy of a romcom. You consider inviting him back to your place to share that bottle of merlot you’ve been dreaming about all night. But then remind yourself that the poor guy is traumatized, definitely in no shape for a romantic nightcap. You can’t help but find yourself wishing, as if you can will it into existence, that he’ll look up at you, that your eyes will meet, sparks will fly, and he’ll flirt with you again. Maybe even invite you to stay the night with him. But his eyes remain glued to the floor, and your heart drops in disappointment as your ridiculous delusions are dashed by his silence.

“I should… probably go, for real this time. It’s late.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure I can’t do anything for you before I go?” you ask, coming back down to earth from the high of his compliment and seeing him again as the guy who’d gotten cut and strangled then passed out cold on his floor rather than an object of your lust.

He shakes his head, then he glances up at you, those stunning blue-green eyes of his finally finding yours, sending a fresh flutter to your chest. “You’ve done more than enough. It was… really nice having someone to talk to. To… distract me from… other things.”

His kind words give you a boost of confidence. “Well If you ever want to talk again, you know where I live. Or if you need a babysitter.”

You smile at the puzzled look that crosses his face and nod towards his houseplant.

He laughs that adorable little laugh again. “I may take you up on that offer sometime. Goodnight Y/N. And… thanks again. For everything.”

“Take care of yourself, Jason.”

[kyokutsu-sama]

Hey I'm the same person who requested the blunt reader not too long ago and I loved what you wrote for it 😍

Now I'm back again this time I'm asking for a Magic Captains x reader who is too nervous to communicate their feelings. Like the complete opposite of the reader.

For the scenario nervous reader tries to communicate their feelings and ends up kissing them on the lips or cheek (You can choose) and she gets so embarrassed that they (attempts to) run away

I heard that you're sick I hope you drink a lot or water and get some rest and feel better you 💝 😁

Hii!! I'm glad you liked what I wrote and regarding my health, I'm fine now, but thank you for your concern☺️✨️

I hope you like this one too❤️

_____________________________

Fuegoleon :

It had been months since you tried to confess your feelings for Captain Vermillion. He was a serious and prestigious man but busy and you knew that and that's why you didn't want to disturb him. You looked around you and when you came across someone brave without fear of saying what they felt or thought, you were jealous of that person because they were what you lacked. Self confidence. Whenever you tried to get close to the captain you started to shake and blush and never ended up saying what you wanted. Fuegoleon also found it all very confusing but never wanted to ask you anything about it. Until one day you caught him walking down the hall towards the office and gained the courage to go up to him and tell him. "Captain, are you busy?" You called, entering the office after him and he turned to face you "Well, not for now. Do you have anything to tell me, Y/n? Come in, feel free." He called you and you nodded, going in and closing the office door "Captain...I have something to tell you..." You said, looking away and interlacing your fingers, anxious "You don't need to be nervous in my presence." Fuegoleon gave a little smile, noticing your nervousness. The captain was smart and quickly realized that you were not comfortable. "It's just...well I-I er...I..." Your words couldn't be formed and you were very confused "'You' what?" "Captain, I think..." "Is everything okay with you?" He approached you and you became even more nervous You saw his eyes on you and without being able to form a simple sentence, you let your will take control of you and kissed his lips. The captain didn't back down because he was completely surprised that you did that. You walked away and you could guess that your face was as red as a tomato, Fuegoleon was equally unresponsive as he looked at you. "What....What was that Y/n?" He asked, running his hands over your face, burning with embarrassment "I'm sorry for kissing you like that, it's just...I really like you." You confessed, feeling your legs weaken and a certain desire to faint right there "Really? But why were you so nervous? You didn't need to be like that, look at you, you're about to faint!" He chuckled, hugging you and you felt a relief in your heart when you were in his arms. "It's okay, I'll take care for you, my dear. I really like you too." He whispered and you felt your heart melt

Nozel :

Equally royal as the captain above but much more serious and demanding than the other. These factors led you to be nervous around him even though you were eager to tell him that you had feelings for him since the day you met him. But you never thought he would respond to the feelings of someone who wasn't part of royalty and that also contributed to yet another reason for hesitation on your part. You saw every moment when you were close to him as an opportunity to tell him but as soon as he approached you to tell you something, you could already feel the butterflies in your stomach and you were completely at a loss as to what to do. One day he was in the office and you came in to give him something he had asked you to bring. You came in and placed the papers on the table and he received them. "Thank you, you're dismissed for now." He ordered but you didn't leave the office "Captain, can I say something?" Your hands started to show signs of shaking again and he looked at you "What?" "It's just that I...I don't know if the captain knows but..." "But?" He narrowed his eyebrows, intrigued by all your nervousness You looked at him for a moment before walking around the table and approaching him, leaving him even more confused. "I'm sorry about that captain." You said before leaning over and kissing his cheek Nozel shivered and didn't realize what that had been, he looked at you and saw your embarrassed face. "Why did they do that?" He thought The captain wasn't mad but he was curious to know if you felt something and that's why he questioned you. "Y/n, do you--" When the captain looked to the side, you were gone and only had time to notice the office door open after you had run out full of shame. "I see, it looks like I'll have to deal with this further afternoon..." He said to himself

Yami :

You had joined the black bulls a few months ago and the first thing that caught your attention was the big and strong captain of the squad, who spent half his life in the bathroom and the other half sleeping or sitting in the room smoking or drinking. You wondered how you fell in love with a man like that, even though you never told anyone. It turns out that Vanessa managed to notice that you loved him. She was good at finding out when someone was in love, she was even the one who encouraged you to tell the captain about how you felt. At first you thought it would be a bad idea out of fear and nervousness, but after she insisted a lot, you agreed, even though the anxiety of doing so was there with you. You saw him in the living room alone that night and approached him with silent and slow steps, even though he already knew you were there, after feeling your ki. "Are you having insomnia, brat?" He asked, looking at you and taking a drag on his cigarette. That simple act was already making your face red and embarrassed and you just hoped he didn't notice. "No, I'm fine." You tried to hide it, approaching and sitting on the sofa, staying next to him "So, why don't you go to sleep then? You've been working so hard these last few days in training, aren't you tired?" He asked, blowing the smoke in your face and you brushed the smoke away with your hand. "Not really." A moment of tense silence was felt in the room, you were looking at the floor and your hands were gripping the fabric of your pants tightly as you gained courage. "Captain Yami, can you...can I tell you something?" You said with a trembling voice "Tell me what you have to tell." He said, taking another drag as he looked up at the ceiling "It's just that I...I have to...I need to tell you that..." You found yourself in a big mess trying to form a sentence that would be "What the hell are you trying to say, brat?" He looked at you and raised an eyebrow "Captain I...I'm sorry but I need to do this." "To do what?" He was confused You took the cigarette out of his mouth, putting it aside and gave him a kiss on the lips, taking him by surprise. Yami put a hand on your nape as you had your lips on his and when you pulled away gasping for air, he gave you a smile. "Well, it looks like someone is full of attitude tonight!" He teased and you got up from the couch, running to your room. "Hey brat! Are you just going to run away from this? Damn, you broke my fragile heart here!" He pouted after you suddenly left

William :

The much loved and respected Captain William of the golden dawn was the man your eyes never left and your mind couldn't stop thinking about. The kind man took your heart in a good way and you didn't know how to face it. You liked talking to him and spending time with him but your feelings were growing and you didn't know what else to do when you were around him. You were anxious and hesitant, you knew he would never judge your feelings but you still refrained from confessing them. One morning at Golden Dawn HQ, you nervously walked down the hallway to the captain's office to try to tell him once and for all that you loved him. "Can I come in?" You asked after knocking and he ordered you to do so from the other side You saw him standing next to the window, watching the landscape and closed the door, approaching him. "Are you okay, Y/n?" He asked, turning to you and you looked down at the floor "Captain William, I need to tell you something that I've been thinking about for some time, a long time, in fact." You said, feeling your heart beat faster after the words "Is it something important?" The captain asked, curious "I think so, I mean, it depends..." You said looking at him for a moment "Very well, I'm all ears. Come on, tell me." "Captain William, I need to tell you that I....I..." You closed your eyes, not wanting to look at him out of embarrassment "Is everything really okay with you?" He asked again You opened your eyes and without holding back for another second, you held his cheeks and kissed the scar on his forehead affectionately and he opened his eyes wide in surprise. No one had ever done that and his heart was melting with so much affection and generosity for your action. You walked away for a moment, he looked you in the eyes but you were quick to look away, completely embarrassed by the situation. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that but I love you...I'm sorry." You said before turning around and heading towards the exit "Y/n wait!" He called and you froze, looking back and seeing him smile at you "Thank you, that was very kind of you." "So...So you also have feelings for me?" You scratched your head and he approached you and placed a hand on your shoulder "I wouldn't mind putting my heart in the hands of someone like you." He confessed and you gave in to the weakness of your knees and fell from his arms "Y/n, did you faint?" He chuckled "Captain, that was such a beautiful thing to say!" You said in a tearful voice, hugging him