#weekend and just really starting to understand court

[morghvls]

The tourney of the hand was lowkey westeros’ silliest most low stakes tourney ever like you’ve got

- Sansa gambling on mma unsupervised cause septa mordane is too hungover to attend and Ned is… idk detectiving

-Sansa nlog moment where she literally forgets Jeyne exists shes so into the mma

-Jaime getting literally getting stuck in his own armor

- People’s heavyweight champ Sandor Clegane

- Biggest event of the whole tourney is the Clegane bros trying to kill eachother aka Sandor’s normal Tuesday

[saigethearies]

osamu and you leave your daughter with her uncle atsumu for the weekend. chaos ensues.

___

“i woulda felt better leavin’ her with kita or aran.”

you let out a snort at your husband’s statement. “over your own brother? her blood relative?”

you and osamu were driving to a weekend getaway in the mountains. while the two of you were excited for a break and some quality time, there was no denying that there was some apprehension in the car.

it was the first time you’d be away from your baby daughter. as great as a vacation sounded, it would be a lie to say the two of you weren’t reluctant to go.

in order to ease your nerves, a suitable babysitter was chosen.

only osamu didn’t have a lot of faith in your choice.

“exactly, he’s ma brother, so ‘m the only one who understands just how much of ‘n idiot he truly is.”

“but you saw how happy he was to offer to watch her! atsumu loves being a uncle, he won’t half-ass taking care of her. besides, if he ends up needing help your mom is just a call away.”

“ma’s hostin’ her book club this saturday, she can’t just drop everythin’ if tsumu’s dumbass ends up needin’ help.”

you let out a sigh. “samu, just try and relax. i’m sure everything over on his end is fine.”

____

“COURT BABY! COURT BABY! COURT BABY!”

hinata and bokuto chanted as they watched your daughter crawl across the shiny floor of the msby practice gym.

having grown tired of the play mat and toys her uncle atsumu had laid out for her, the little one decided exploring her surroundings would be far more exciting.

“she’s crawlin’ earlier than most babies would,” atsumu chimed proudly. “must’ve got ma athlete genes.”

sakusa rolled his eyes from behind the fake blonde.

“she’s really going fast! let’s time her to see how quick she can move!” hinata suggested, fascinated by the little human on the ground.

“we’re supposed to be doing passing drills-“

“GREAT IDEA HINATA!” bokuto shouted.

“i give up,” the masked brunette said, moving to sit down on the bleachers since apparently no one was going to actually bother to follow instructions.

atsumu smirked while watching his teammates fawn over his niece. he knew it would be a good idea to just bring her to friday practice. the vibe for fridays was always a little more laid-back, and he knew having a cute little baby around would earn him brownie points with his excitable teammates. who didn’t love babies?

his brown eyes shifted over to sakusa momentarily, who was gazing at his niece with a look of disdain on his face.

okay, maybe he didn’t enjoy kids, but the rest of the team sure did!

“hey hey hey, baby miya! let’s see how quick you can crawl to your uncle tsum-tsum!”

atsumu grinned, moving to kneel on the ground so he can encourage his niece to move towards him. seeing the familiar face of her uncle- who shared a face with her father- had her happily babbling away as she pushed towards him.

“awe, she’s trying to talk!” hinata cooed, lip wobbling as he watched the precious exchange.

“alright, everyone,” a voice boomed. everyone turned to see a muscular figure with a head of spiky black hair enter the gymnasium.

“your coach asked me to come over to ensure you boys were actually practicing,” iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer stated. “i have some specific stamina exercises i want everyone to participate in. we’re gonna start by-“

movement in the lower peripheral of iwa’s vision caught his attention and the former ace found his gaze turning toward the floor.

“…why the hell is there a baby here?”

“don’t fuckin’ curse in front’a ma niece!”

“you just- nevermind,” iwa grunted, trying to be as patient as possible considering there was a literal infant present.

slotting his clipboard into the junction of his shoulder, the athletic trainer bent down to gently pick up your daughter. balancing her on his hip as if he’d done it a million times before, he turned back to the team.

“alright, jumping jacks and high knees, i want those heart rates getting up!”

before atsumu could open his mouth, iwa shot him a pointed look.

“i’ll hold your niece, miya, now get moving.”

the squeaking of shoes against the linoleum floor began to sound off. after ensuring everyone was properly following his instructions, he turned to the baby in his hold.

everyone knew iwaizumi was tough, but few knew how much of a complete softie he could be at times. giving your daughter a small smile, he lifted his hands to wave his fingers at her, to which she smiled back and tried to mimic his movements.

he let out a light laugh. “motor skills coming along there, i see-“

“iwaaaaa-chaaannnnn,” a voice sounded off from behind him.

iwaizumi froze. that voice, that stupid nickname, he knew it from anywhere. he began to turn his head to look behind him, gradually as if he was moving in slow-motion.

there was no way…

“guess who flew all the way from argentina to surprise you with his presence,” oikawa boasted as he stepped into the room. “that’s right, me-“

the seijoh grad fell silent as his chocolate colored eyes fell on the small human in his best friend’s hold.

oikawa blinked once. twice. three times. then-

“since when did you have a kid?”

“tooru, this isn’t-“

“how could you keep this from me?”

“will you please just-“

“a whole child? when?”

“shittykawa just shut up-“

“STOP CURSIN’ IN FRONT’A HER!”

“-and listen to me for a second!”

oikawa finally stopped his tirade, moving towards iwaizumi to study the baby in his arms. he bent down to be eye level with her, the both of them staring at each other curiously.

the brunette hummed to himself, reaching a finger out to poke your daughter’s cheek. “she doesn’t look like you.”

“wow, what an observation, it’s almost like she’s not my kid.”

“then who’s is she-“

“she’s my niece,” atsumu growled out, pushing oikawa away from the baby he was prodding at. he fixed the other man with a glare, well aware of who he was and what position he also played. the fact that this potential rival thought he could casually touch his flesh and blood had the fake blonde heated. “i’m takin’ care’a her for the weekend, which means i ain’t letting no lesser setter lay’a hand on her.”

“lesser setter?”

“oh boy,” iwa said, moving away from the two ego-fueled players. he could tell they were about to scuffle and he couldn’t let a baby be anywhere near that.

placing your little girl safely to the side, iwa crouched in front of her, sounds of “never saw ya at spring nationals” and “let’s see what your stats are, huh?” airing in the background.

“you stay right here, i’m gonna go get them to knock it off.”

standing a few meters away from all the chaos, sakusa watched as iwaizumi tried to wrench the two setters apart. sighing, he shifted his gaze to your daughter sitting unattended on the ground, babbling at nothing in particular.

sakusa grimaced. he really didn’t like babies. they were so…germy. and gross. but, he supposed the babies themselves couldn’t really help that fact. it wasn’t their fault they were so little and had such new immune systems.

a shadow then loomed over your daughter, bokuto and hinata standing over her. now that iwaizumi was too distracted to lead them in workouts, the two’s attention was back on the infant.

“i know!” bokuto exclaimed. “let’s do passing drills with baby miya! we can pass her back and forth to each other!”

“she’ll feel like she’s flying! like she’s a little crow!”

“or an owl!”

“you two will be doing absolutely no such thing with this child,” sakusa interjected, scooping your daughter up and going to sit down on the bench with her.

“but ki-“

“no.”

he wasn’t a fan of babies, but considering your daughter’s uncle was currently holding oikawa in a headlock, sakusa figured he could keep an eye on her for just a few minutes. it wouldn’t be too much longer before iwa finally decided he’d had enough and smacked the shit out of both of them.

hearing a little gurgle from below him, the brunette cast his eyes downwards. your daughter’s sight was transfixed on him, a smile coming onto her face when she saw she had the spiker’s attention.

from behind his mask, sakusa felt the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

okay, maybe babies were a little cute.

[tpwk-formula1]

They Grow Up So Fast - OP81

Oscar Piastri X Plus size swimsuit model! Norris Reader

Summary: Lando finally brings his sister around the paddock. How will Oscar and the rest of the grid handle the new regular.

Warnings: some hate towards both the reader and oscar.

Face claim - Pearl Maria Froud

Instagram

Y/Nnorris

Liked by landonorris, oliviarodrigo, and 2,904,001 others

Y/Nnorris Growing up I remember I could never understand why I was built the way that I was. Now I'm thankful for the ass I was given. Lando if you see this post just don't swipe.

User1 OMG I'm seriously in love with you

User2 I just know Lando didn't read the caption😂😂

-> landonorris For once I actually did read the caption first

landonorris As your older brother it is my duty to tell you, you've always been beautiful... annoying as fuck as well.

-> User3 When you thought Lando would say something sweet about Y/N but then makes sure to show that they are in fact siblings

-> Mclaren Lando we've talked about this... you have to be nice to our guests.

--> User4 OMG Y/N IN THE PADDOCK THIS WEEKEND?!?!

user5 LMAO I'm not over Mclaren admin telling Lando he needs to be nicer to his sister

user6 I want your ass!

carlossainz Why do you never visit me!

-> Y/Nnorris as Charles has stated before... you never invite me over!

--> Landonorris @/carlossainz you better leave my sister alone!! She is far to young for you!

---> Y/Nnorris But Lando you know I like them older!

user7 I'll never understand why Y/N gets so much hype?! Like she's not even that pretty! Lando is def the better Norris sibling

User8 I literally love Y/N she's so fucking gorgeous

sabrinacarpenter Please marry me

-> Y/Nnorris let's go to the court house!🏃🏻‍♀️

Instagram

Mclaren

Liked by oscarpiastri, y/nnorris, and 3,798,236 others

Mclaren Swimsuit model Y/N Norris has made her paddock debut today here in Japan

user9 UGH why does F1 keep letting random women into the paddock like this

user10 Oh how I love Y/N!

landonorris Now why does my sister get her own post like this😒

user11 LMAOOOO not Lando being his sister's biggest opp

user12 I love how Mclaren calls her "swimsuit model" as if she isn't there because Lando is her brother.

Y/Nnorris Thank you so much for the invite! We both know Lando would never invite me.

-> landonorris You're the biggest liar ever! You literally tell me you're tired of watching me drive in circles

-> Mclaren We're so happy to have you! You were lovely and we hope to see you at more races to come.

charleslecerc She wasn't even in Ferrari yet she was the sweet person I met on the paddock

-> Mclaren I'd offer to share but she's all ours

user13 How long do we think it'll be before rumors of her dating a driver start?

-> user14 I doubt anyone will be shipping Y/N with a driver... she's not their type

Instagram Stories

Y/Nnorris

landonorris WHO IS IT?!?!

-> Y/Nnorris I literally have no idea what you're talking about

-> Landonorris Y/N I'M NOT PLAYING!!! WHO WAS THIS BOLD TO ASK YOU OUT?!?!

-> Y/Nnorris Stop worrying your pretty little head

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user15 I'm stunned!!! No way you moved that quickly

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sabrinacarpenter OMG is it the cutie you were telling me about?!

-> y/nnorris YES! He's literally the sweetest!

-> sabrinacarpenter I can't wait for you to tell me all about him!

----------

Twitter

Three Months Later

Instagram stories

Y/Nnorris

landonorris I hope you know you made him late for the meeting today!

-> Y/Nnorris And how tf was that my fault! I had no idea he was gonna come visit me.

------

user20 I just know this is Oscar!

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user21 Who is it! I need to know

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sabrinacarpenter Thank you so much for finally letting me meet him! He really is so sweet and the way he looks at you!!!!

-> Y/Nnorris I'm so glad you like him! I really like him!

Oscarpiastri

Y/Nnorris I wasn't mad... Just disappointed!

-> oscarpiastri I'm sorry I ate the last cookie you made for me!

-> Y/Nnorris I can taste the sarcasm! But I forgive cause youre so cute and I love you!

-> oscarpiastri I love you too

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charleslecerc You better treat her good!

-> oscarpiastri Why do I feel like you're gonna be more protective of her than her brother?!

--> charleslecerc She's too sweet to be hurt!

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landonorris I tried to warn you about her!

-> oscarpiastri She didn't need to come with a warning label!

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user22 Now what did you do to make our girl mad?!

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user23 You finally pull a girl and now you're out here making her mad! You men are literally so fucking useless! You do not deserve her

Texts between Oscar and You

Instagram

Y/Nnorris

Liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 3,329,826 others

Y/Nnorris Oh how I love Silverstone and my photographer boyfriend (can you guess which picture he took)

user24 I feel like it was pic #2 and he was genuinely trying to get a candid

-> Y/Nnorris Haha yes! The sun was too bright so when I went to turn around I ended up giving him a stank face and this was the nicest one I could find😂😂

yourbff I can't wait to watch the hot men drive in circles all weekend long 😀

-> Y/Nnorris Don't act like you're not excited to watch my brother 😒

--> yourbff Why do you always have to call me out... but on a real note @/landonorris I want a paddock pass please 🥹

---> landonorris Y/N has a fresh pass with your name written all over it already... I feel used

user25 Do we still think Oscar is the man she is soft-launching?

Carlossainz You'd look so good in Ferrari red

-> landonorris no

-> oscarpiastri no

-> Mclaren no

-> Y/Nnorris They want me to say no as well but 💳 (that is me slamming my card down for you to sneak it to my apartment)

user26 So gorgeous!

oscarpiastri Can't wait to see you around this weekend!

-> user27 Now Oscar why do you act like you aren't being soft launched all over her IG

user28 I would like to stop seeing this fatty on my feed

-> oscarpiastri Maybe start with unfollowing her?😒😒😒

--> user29 LMAOOOO oscar is having none of it! We love when he stands up for his girl

Twitter

Instagram Stories

Oscarpiastri

Y/Nnorris I feel like this is all the confirmation they will need

-> Oscarpiastri I think they already knew Sweatheart

-> Y/Nnorris True but I like keeping it a little secret

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user35 Still not over you taking my girl like that

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user36 I'll never unstained why you picked the fat girl!

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user37 Y'all are such a cute couple!!!

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user38 You do not deserve Y/N! I hope when you told Lando about the relationship he didn't support cause you're not good enough for her!

------

user39 Such a beautiful couple!

Twitter

Instagram

YNnorris

Liked by mclaren, landonorris, and 3,209,893 others

Y/Nnorris @/logansargeant said something about being thankful? Idk what you American's do on a random Thursday in November but I hard launch my Aussie boyfriend.

On a real note Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate! I'm thankful for all of you guys!

tagged Oscarpiastri

Oscarpiastri I finally get a post dedicated to me and @/logansargeant gets mentioned

-> logansargeant Toughen up

Oscarpiastri I love you! I'm forever and always thankful for her!

user46 I was not mentally prepared for a hard launch today!

user47 the scream I scrumpt! HOLY SHIT ITS FINALLY HAPPENING!

user48 I can't believe he actually picked the fat girl! Charity work frfr

sabrinacarpenter Almost burned the house down! I can't believe we finally got the hard launch!

yourbff Well I'm thankful that I no longer have to keep my mouth shut about knowing the cutest couple on the grid!

-> Y/Nnorris I'm surprised you did keep your mouth shut

--> yourbff why do I feel like this is a dig?

---> Oscarpiastri That's cause it was... you're the biggest yapper I have ever met

Comment liked by Y/Nnorris

One year later

Instagram

Y/Nnorris

Liked by Oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 3,980,324 others

Y/Nnorris I said yes

User49 I can't believe it is so full circle that they're getting married

sabrinacarpenter they grow up so fast 🤧🤧🤧

landonorris I wish you could have seen the nerves Osc had all week😂😂😂

-> oscarpiastri Why must you expose me?!

Oscarpiastri I love you so much and I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you!

user50 I just know this wedding is gonna be so beautiful

mclaren Can we have a papaya themed wedding?

-> Y/Nnorris I'm gonna hold your hand while I tell you this

--> user51 Y/N Norris is one of the funniest humans I have ever seen

user52 I can't wait to see this wedding

[tiredsugarcube]

"Required Attendance"

What happens when you miss your lover's match?

Kageyama has the flair that demands your attention when he plays, his detailed techniques and ability to make fast paced yet careful decisions to ensure a victory has earned him the title "King of the Court", though his dictator personality has evolved into a character that can cooperate and compliment to any teammate, he may still have moments when he snaps out of utter frustration.

Being in all of his matches is now an important requirement in your schedule, Kageyama has grown dependent on you, your love, support, voice, everything about you he has grown attached to, maybe even too attached to the point where he's not at best conditions to play when you are absent.

It was a simple practice match, your classmate and Karasuno team manager, Yachi mentioned. Though you are aware of his tendencies, which you don't mind since it gave you a bit of reassurance that he really cherished and loved you to the point of obsession, you decided to not be present in said practice match. Other clubs needed your attention today and I'm sure he wouldn't mind you miss one match right? after all it was a practice match, and you never missed his official matches so I'm sure he wouldn't mind..

You have never been more wrong.

The whole afternoon, you finished your tasks, being able to be productive in setting up club rooms for new issued school clubs and assisting club presidents. The sun has started to set, and most students have already left excited for the weekend. You walk by the gate, and immediately spot your lover Kageyama waiting, the more you walk near him, the atmosphere grows more and more eerie. You greet Kageyama and he's silent, doing nothing but keeping his intense glare on you, you feel your heart start beating faster. He suddenly grips your arm and asks,

"Why weren't you there." It didn't feel like a question, more like a demand to answer.

"In the practice match..? I had some things to do, I'm sure you did just fine." keeping your voice calm and batting your eyelashes is the best thing you can do at this moment of fear.

He stays silent and grips your arms tighter to the point it started to hurt badly.

"Hey.. don't do that, It'll bruise." The pain starting to sink in and you stutter for a moment. "I'm so sorry I wasn't in your practice match I should've been there to support you..." you apologize as your final weak attempt to sway him.

He finally lessens his grip, that's all he needed to hear, he leans down and whispers in your ear..

"Good, you should be. I needed you there, I always need you yet you weren't there. If you had something important, I would be in attendance to support you so do the same." he says before letting go of your arm. You nodded on understanding, you felt relieved that you were forgiven and you start to walk and leave before being pulled back by your Kageyama.

"You forgot something." He says, void of the menacing nature he had a few seconds ago, he points to his lips, signaling for a kiss.

You kiss him swiftly and he seems satisfied, you intertwine your fingers into his and start walking home, if anyone were to see that display of affection, they might see nothing but pure, unadulterated puppy love from two students. Maybe it was before but it's grown more than that, darker that that, and you were getting used to it.

You better be, there's no use fighting back anyway.

(This plot is inspired by another oneshot, I'm trying to find the author to credit them as we speak. Please tell me which character I should do next with this prompt!)

[yaut-jaknowit]

Could you write Male reader x male yautja maybe even Vic'tao and Uihoy where they had really limited human contact and even less knowledge about dating. I love the concept of Yautja trying to court someone but ultimately just freaking the human out more and then changing their ways. This exactly, pls. Where they try to court the reader, maybe even kidnap him to show him that they are very strong etc. bring him skulls and at first they don't understand why he keeps rejecting them and fighting back until one day when they finally give him some device to understand each other and he just tells them what absolute monsters they are etc. And then obviously some fluff where they slowly win back the reader's trust and eventually the reader falls in love

You can obviously chose which yautja actually shows up I just like the two but you can definitely choose someone else, i would just like a male yautja

Lost in Translation

Pairings: Vic'tao (Male Yautja) x Male!Reader x Uihoy (Male Yautja)

Word Count: 4462

Summary: On their first trip to earth, Vic'tao and Uihoy were excited! New creatures to hunt, a new planet to explore. Vic'tao spots you. There's something about you that interests him. He can't shake it. So, he does what any sensible Yautja does: courts you. Hey! Why are you screaming?

Author Note: I love this classic idea. Because in all reality, if any Yautja came up to the average person and offered a skull, you would sprint away screaming. I also love the fact I'm getting so many male reader asks! I didn't know their was so many of you out there.

Masterlist

Ao3

For centuries, Yautjas and oomans have interacted in more way than one. Yet, it all boils down to prey and predator. Vic’tao and Uihoy come strictly for the hunt. Oomans are prey. There’s nothing much else to them.

Not until they saw you.

In a dense city, filled to the brim with oomans that meander to one place to the next, there was you. Vic’tao didn’t understand what is was about you that caught his attention. In all honesty, you looked just any of the other prey that traveled in your city. But, he stopped stalking to sit upon the roof of a build across the street to watch you.

Uihoy paused as well when he noticed his mate no longer was trailing behind him. The older male huffed and shook his head. Youngsters and their short attention span. He headed back towards the mustard yellow and blue male and crouched besides him. The two of them invisible to the naked eye.

They watched as you did your oomanly duties of trading credit for a colorful drink. Uihoy nudged at Vic’tao with his shoulder. “What is it? I don’t think that ooman is much of a worthy kill,” Uihoy questioned and settled down on his haunches. The random ooman strolled out of the building and got into their vehicle.

Before you could escape from Vic’tao easily, the younger of the two threw a tiny puck. The device attached itself to the outside paneling of your vehicle. Then, you were off.

On Vic’tao’s forearm gauntlet, he checked to make sure it was tracking you. A small yellow dot followed the exact pathing on the holoscreen pulled up. He chittered to himself then turned to Uihoy. “We may go now,” he brushed off and jerked his large head in the direction they were originally heading.

The other male quirked a brow from underneath his biomask at his mate’s strange interest in that specific ooman. Uihoy didn’t get an answer. So, he started off the same path they were taking through the city.

Their hunt was about to get more interesting.

On a hot summer morning, a book in hand, you laxed on your balcony. The weekend weather is wonderful to sit outside and enjoy it. A small fan sat off of a round coffee table, blowing air up towards your face. You turned to the next page only to tense up at the feeling of being watched. All of your focus on the book was lost. You placed the book off onto the coffee table and sat up. The feeling followed like a stormy cloud. A shutter ran down the length of your spine. You finally turn on your heel and head back inside to break free.

Once the curtains were shut, the tension that filled your body fell off of you in one huge wave. Strange. You shrugged it off and headed into the kitchen for some water. Hopefully, the water could clear your head about that strange occurrence.

The refreshing water rushed down your throat and helped down your heating body. The outdoors nearly a sweltering heat during the summertime. Your gaze glanced back over to the closed curtains and tilted your head. Whoever was watching you? Your apartment’s balcony faces a tree line. So, it couldn’t be others from another apartment.

A frown broke across your features. You refilled the empty cup of water and head back towards closed curtains. With a deep breath to calm down your rising heartbeat, you pulled them back.

Nothing raised the hairs on the back of your neck.

You shrugged then reentered the tiny balcony. The eyes didn’t return. As you go to sit down back on your comfortable chair, you paused. An animal’s skull sat upon the railing.

Instead of freaking out, you were completely confused. That wasn’t there a moment ago. The glass was set down by your book. Carefully, you stepped up the random skull and peered at it closely.

It was a predator by the looks of the teeth. A canine as well. If you had to guess, it was a wolf’s skull. Amazed by the fact there was a wolf’s skull in front of you yet completely puzzled on how it got here in the span of five minutes tops. You’re on the second story. It’s not like it could fall from the sky or someone just randomly set it there.

This was purposefully.

As much as you wanted to walk away from it, you didn’t want it to fall and break. Or someone else to have it. You glanced around the tree line to possibly search for the owner or a reason to why it was here. You came up empty handed. A sigh left your lips when nothing was in sight. You carefully picked it up and brought it inside with you.

A look around the interior brought upon a place to set it on. One of the shelves in the living room. All you had to do was shift a couple of books and other décor out of the way. Once it sat upon the shelf, you stood back and admired the skull in its new home.

What was someone else’s garbage is your new treasure.

While standing there, you felt the watchful gaze of someone again. Your head snapped back over to the open balcony door only to find nothing there, eyes narrowing. You marched over to the sliding glass door then stopped.

Something was… off.

A shiver ran down your spine the longer you stood there. It took a moment for your senses to finally feel the presence of someone in front of you. Your entire body tensed up before you ripped the glass door closed. So hard, you were surprised it didn’t shatter before you. The lock was thrown. You stumbled away from the closed door, eyes wide as you stared in terror.

There was something you couldn’t see. You felt it. A heat rolling off that invisible thing. What was that?! You trembled in the middle of your living room like scared prey. What you couldn’t see terrified you. Eyes blown wide.

Whatever there moved. The thing moved. You watched as the air rippled, distorted before your eyes as it unrooted from its spot. The figure stepped up to the railing then leaped over it. Then, it was gone. You rushed forward and swiftly shut your curtains before it could return to watch you again.

To calm your racing heart, you leaned against the curtains and placed a hand on your chest. Your heart on the verge of beating out. The feeling it gave you… You felt like prey amidst a hunter.

Once you calmed down enough, you pulled away from the glass door about to head to your bedroom when you remembered something. “Fuck,” you cursed. Your book was still laying on the coffee table! And, you were in a good spot as well.

A stupid, stupid idea came to mind. You peered around the curtains and saw the coast was still clear. When your gaze snapped to the coffee table… the book was gone! Your jaw dropped. Anger flared inside of you.

“You motherfucker! Stealing my book. I was in a good spot,” you screamed, hopefully whatever that thing was could hear you. Not only did it scare you but it stole your book. Oh, you were furious now. No one steels your books.

From the outside, the Yautja could still hear your shouts after the terror Vic’tao caused you. Neither of them expected less. Uihoy was entertaining Vic’tao’s fascination. What would have a Yautja interested like this. Even Uihoy himself was curious.

“Looks like the ooman took it well,” Uihoy teased his mate and patted the mustard yellow Yautja on the shoulder. The two of them still had their cloaks activated. They didn’t want their presence known to anyone besides their intended target. Vic’tao huffed and shook off Uihoy’s grip with a unseen glare thrown his way.

“Oh shush. I knew this was to happen. Oomans are prey.” Then, he lifted up the book he snatched from their target. “Look at what I got. We can learn more about the ooman.”

A deadpanned fell upon the older Yautja behind his biomask. “You stole a book.”

Vic’tao gave a scoff and purposefully shook his tresses to make them rattle. “This ooman. I want to learn more about him. Like some of things they teach you on the mothership. Oh, wait, you weren’t born on a mothership,” Vic’tao teased. All jester between the two male Yautjas

Their beginning may have started off rocky with disgust of the other, here they are.

Then, the yellow male wapped Uihoy with the book. “Learn about your target, yes? They should’ve at least taught you that.” Despite a hateful start to their relationship, they now can joke about their cultural differences. “You never know. Maybe this book has information about our target.”

Uihoy groaned and lulled his head backwards. “Dumbass, you can’t even read any of the ooman languages,” he grunted then tilted his head back to look at him.

Vic’tao raised a finger to tell the purple Yautja off, sucking in a breath before falling flat. He glanced down at the paper book in his hand and slumped on his shoulders. “I hate it when you’re right,��� he mumbled, ready to throw the book when an idea struck him. “Wait! We can translate it back on the ship.” Their ship, more like Uihoy’s, had the capabilities to translate any known language into Yautja.

Another deadpanned look was thrown at Vic’tao who couldn’t see it. “Or, you can use your gauntlet,” he offered instead and tapped at the mentioned device. “This wonderful technology that be entirely versatile or did they only teach you basic hunting skills at the moment.” Vic’tao scoffed then stood up on the branch they each shared. Uihoy followed suit.

In one moment, Uihoy was free. The very next, Vic’tao pinned his into the trunk of the tree. A tight grasp wrapped around the purple Yautja’s throat and trapped him to the tree. Though, the Yautja was short, he wasn’t one to be messed with.

“I’ve got you stuck here, don’t I?” he rumbled into his ear, eyes gleaming behind his biomask.

The ground left Vic’tao’s feet. His back met the rough texture of bark, biting into his scales. Above him, Uihoy had him pinned instead. “Checkmate.”

A few days have passed since that incident occurred. Your book was long gone at this point. Another had been ordered and should be arriving in the next day or two. Despite your apprehension to leave home to go to work, you’ve pushed through and left the very next day for a stupid paycheck.

Nothing happened. No eyes. No feelings of being watched. Nor the next day. It too was free from that torment. Even on the fourth day, today, nothing has happened.

That caused you to question if it happened at all. If it wasn’t for the skull and missing book, you would’ve believed it was a fluke. A nightmare that you don’t remember waking from. Only it happening and now haunting you. The book, you could brush off as miss placing it someone stealing it from work. Besides that, the skull was your hard evidence.

Never had have you ever seen a wolf, let alone its own skull. The whole thing mystified you. All you could do in the end of scratch your head about it. How in the world does this happen to you?

Thousands upon thousands upon thousands of people in your town and this thing targets you.

Now wasn’t the time to maul over your misfortune of the situation. With a sigh, you stepped out into the hallway. Your foot knocked into something on the ground. A brow quirked up as you glanced down only to find a box on the doormat. Confused, you picked it up off the ground.

It wasn’t a package. It looked like someone just randomly dropped off a box. The box itself wasn’t big. At most a foot wide and long barely even three inches tall. You checked the time on your phone really quickly before spinning on your heel and going back into your apartment. The closed behind you. You walked over to the dining table and set it down.

A short list of people who could’ve dropped it off listed off inside of your head. Yet, you felt like any of them would’ve notified you of the package. With your lips pressed tightly in a line, you carefully pulled the top of the box off.

The lid fell from your grasp before falling to the ground with a light tap.

Bones filled the small box. Horror flashed over your features. What the fuck?! You stumbled back and knocked into the kitchen counter behind you. Bones. But from what? Animal or-or human? A full body tremble raked your body.

The first thought to enter your frenzy brain was to call the police. Then rational thinking rose to the surface. They would think it was you or they may think you as crazy if these aren’t human. What were you suppose to do now? You’ve got work in less than thirty minutes and some crazy person dr-was it that thing you saw a couple of days ago?

A cold sweat rolled down your back. You had hoped it was only a one-time issue… not a recurring stalker. Wait. Do you have a stalker? Is this considered stalking?

You took a deep breath then quickly threw the box into the garbage. The bones rattled as they fell into their new and forever home. You shuttered at the sound, praying they weren’t human and damning yourself to throwing away evidence. Evidence that could paint you as the killer if they were. You ran your fingers through your hair before marching out of the door for work. Not another second to be wasted.

From his corner inside the ooman’s dwelling, Vic’tao bristled when they threw away the gift he graciously offered. He hunted down dangerous beasts for those bones and presented them to you. Then, you cast them aside.

Strange enough, you accepted the skull but refused the rib bones and femur packaged away in that box. It stumped the yellow Yautja as he meandered over to where you carelessly discarded the bones. The skull was set upon a shelve in the main room of your small dwelling. He moved over to it and peered at it. What made it different to be accepted rather than the other bones he offered to you?

He tasted your fear in the air and shrugged it off. Not that he was expecting less from a weaker creature such as yourself. Yet, there was something about you that caught his attention. Vic’tao had to try and win your hand and favor.

When you returned home, you set your keys and bag down on the kitchen counter. A peak into the garbage revealed the box was still there. Another tremble racked your body.

All day, you had hoped it was just a strange daydream or some hallucination. Clearly, that wasn’t the case.

When you’re about to enter your bedroom, something out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. You screeched to a halt, head whipping to find the balcony curtains opened. Just wide enough to reveal another white, shiny skull sitting on the small coffee table. Long, sharp canines veered from its mouth. Empty, eyeless sockets staring at you.

Your feet froze to the spot, refusing to move. All you could do was stare in terror at the sight.

This was purposeful. Someone was doing this on purpose. Tormenting you.

After you gained function of your limbs, you raced into your bedroom and slammed it shut behind you. The door rattling on the hinges from the force you exerted. Your back is pressed to it to ensure it stays in that same position. Your chest heaved with lungful breaths.

Vic’tao tilted his head at your reaction and huffed. Oomans are completely bewildering. Last time, you liked and accepted the last skull. So, he pulled another from his collection and even set it out in perfect sight for you. Then, you go ahead and act terrified of it.

The younger Yautja grunted and marched outside to retrieve it. This time, he held it in his hands and stood in front of the door you closed. His cloak revealing himself to the empty room. Like a patient hunter, he waited for the time to strike.

Inside of your bedroom, you heard a noise come from your living room and tensed up. What was that? You gnawed on your bottom lip then slowly pulled open the door. With it being dark, it was hard to peer through the darkness. Yet, from what you could tell, nothing had changed. You released a sigh of relief and took a step out of your room.

Only to freeze when you heard clicking. Not mechanical. As if something or someone was making the sound. Then, your eyes adjusted even to spot a figure towering in front of you.

A scream ripped at your lips. Immediately, you threw your fist at what looked to its head only to be met with metal. Your hand throbbed immensely afterwards. You screamed again then spun on your heel and began to run away. Only to smack yourself into the doorframe. All you could see was darkness fill your vision… then nothing.

In a span of less than minute, you had somehow knocked yourself out cold after trying to attack him. He chittered to himself under his mask with an amused smirk. The yellow Yautja peered down at your lifeless body then glanced over to Uihoy. “Well, that went well,” he snarked before reaching down and scooping you up. It seems like you weren’t getting the message. So, Vic’tao would have to force you to understand.

Uihoy came over and grasped your limp chin then picked up your head. His other hand ran his thumb across your cheek bone. “They’re not bad looking,” he muttered mostly to himself then let you fall limb against Vic’tao again. He looked up at Vic’tao. “What’s your plan with him?”

“Since he doesn’t get the hint, I’m going to straight up tell him. If he accepts, he accepts. If he doesn’t, we’ll let him ago,” Vic’tao answered before securing the skull to his belt. Once that was settled, the younger male left through the sliding glass door and climbing to the room of these small, compact dwellings. Uihoy’s ship was at least three times the space inside than just your dwelling alone. If you were to accept their advantages, you would get a huge upgrade. Plus, two Yautjas to protect you from any harm.

A snort came from Uihoy as he shook his head. His short, greying tresses swayed with the movement. “This is a ooman you’re talking about. They aren’t the most knowledgeable nor wise,” Uihoy chuckled and followed Vic’tao through the back door. Said door was slid shut after him.

The two of them got on top of the apartments and entered their ship that was hovering just a few feet above the roof. No one was none the wiser to this.

Vic’tao took you to the common area and let you rest on the longest couch there. Uihoy took to the helm of their ship and flew it higher into the sky. Neither of them could risk any ooman seeing them or else… death to that ooman. You are a special case as they try to woo your hand.

A pounding in your head had you grasping it, blocking out the light shining down on you. A groan voiced from your throat as you strained to sit up and held your head in two hands.

Man, you must have start a wild night of drinking to have a headache like this. No wonder why you woke up with a raging migraine.

When you finally fight off the first wave of pain to hit you, you opened your eyes and glanced around. Confusion filled your head. What in the world? This isn’t place you’ve ever been to. Fuck, you must still be asleep… yet that pain felt so real.

A mechanical whooshing caught your attention. You whipped your head around. A grave mistake but pushed through the pain that flared up.

An imposing figure stood in the doorframe. Its height easily dwarfed yours. Your jaw dropped, ready to start screamed when a massive head covered your mouth. That only caused you to freak out more.

Harsh clicking entered the air. You stared wide up at the figure leaning over you from behind, spiting out growls at the other one. The lone form before you rolled its bright orange eyes and let’s its crossed arms fall. Then, it began to stalk closer towards you. You shouted from behind the hand and scrambled backwards, only to knock into the figure.

The purple one advancing one you stopped when the yellow one spat something at it. Then, yellow tilted its head down at you.

Four sharp fangs were all you could notice on its alien face. This wasn’t something on earth. You got kidnapped by aliens! The top two raised in some sort of grin. It clicked something at you but its alien tongue went straight over its head. The purple one made a snide comment to its friend who snarl, hand tensing around your mouth.

For a moment, you fear it would accidently snap your neck. Until its hand fully fell away. Yet, it stayed behind you. Now, you were trapped between the two of them, unable to move.

The creature behind you raised a finger, as if telling to wait a moment then moved over to a wall. Its fingers pressed against a hidden button. A hiss entered the air.

Before your very eyes, the wall started to retract panels. In sort of a strange transformation, the panels revealed a hidden compartment you were shocked to see. Before you grew nervous and disgusted. Skulls and bones lined the space in the wall… like a trophy wall. Were they showing the place they would soon put your skull? Are they going to kill you?!

You gasped and launched off of the couch. The purple one reacted quicker than you could even blink. It was upon you in a moment and shoved you back down on the oversized couch. You choked on air and stared up at the imposing figure. All it did was return the gaze in a lazy fashion. Like it was bored.

“What do you want?” you finally find your voice and asked them an important question. The purple creature tilted its head then pressed a button on its strange gauntlet. It held out the device towards you again and made a motion to go again. “What do you want?”

The only thing you could think of was a translator or something of the sort. You waited impatiently for the device to do its thing and repeat what you had said.

Yellow made its way over to the two of you leaned over the couch, entering your personal space a little too much. Instead of purple answer, the other one took the time to speak towards the gauntlet.

“We are trying to court you,” an automated voice repeated to you in English. Your brain blanked at the response, jaw dropping in shock.

“Court?! Like-like dating? What the fuck?” you practically screeched at the top of your lungs and sat up higher on the couch only to accidently knock into yellow. “You guys are monsters!”

Another pause as your words are translated to them. At first, you froze at the realization of your insulting words. They could possible still kill you if they felt like it. Specially, talking like that to them. You sat there, fretting if you just signed your death notice.

Instead, the beasts tilted their heads. “Not monsters. Yautja. We are Yautja. Yes, we like to court you. We are proud hunters who if you accept us, will protect and provide for you.” Yautja? Strange name for a species. That thought was kept to yourself before you damned yourself further.

Protect and provide. That actually for you thinking for the moment. Your eyes scanned the open area around you. Wherever they’ve taken you is spacious just in this spot alone. At least twice the size of your living room alone. They called themselves hunter which is evident by the many skulls adorning the nearby wall. There was even a skull that was about the size of you.

If they could take down something of that size… you swallowed down the lump in your throat. “Can I have time to think about this? Learn about you guys? Humans don’t just walk into relationships without learning about the other people first,” you questioned, nervously fretting with the hem of your shirt.

Yellow’s eyes brightened. The figure began to purr by the sounds of it and chuffed at its partner in crime.

Purple gave a thinking face. “I did not realize human customs were different than ours. We hadn’t thought of that." This came from yellow this time. It moved from around the couch then got down on its hunched and offered the skull you saw before.

Instead of being canine this time, you realized this must be feline or something close to it. You timidly reached out and accepted it from yellow. You were thankful it didn’t outright kill you at first and took that as a good sign. “Thank you.” Yellow lifted those upper two mandibles again at you. “Um, do-do you guys have names?”

This time, purple let his arm fall to not catch his next words. “Uihoy.” He pointed towards himself. Your eyes bulged out of your head. What in the world? Not a name from this world.

“Vic’tao.” Yellow joined in and motioned towards himself. How do they expect you to form those kind of names?

Embarrassed, you scratched the back of your neck. “Can you try that again?” you asked, hoping not the offend them any way possible.

For the next few moments, they helped your learned how to pronounce their alien names. In that moment, you learned quickly they meant no harm to you. They weren’t going to hurt you.

You waved goodbye after they dropped you off on the balcony of your apartment. Feeling a little giddy, you walked back inside and head towards your bedroom with a new skull. Despite all the fear you endured from them, they weren’t bad to hang around with. Maybe, once you grew to know them, you would allow for this to continued.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 15 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley had some explaining to do. After the most perfect weekend, you were afraid he was trying to hide information from you again. But Bradley didn't hold back when he told you what happened and what he was concerned about. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, smut, mentions of cancer

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Your hands were shaky as you tried to call Bradley. You didn't understand what was going on, and you were pissed off that the first time you were hearing about him being involved with two people who were being court-martialed was through an email. You hated calling him when there was a chance he was in the air, but if that was the case, then his phone should be off.

Just as you were about to tap his contact in your phone, Bickel came rushing into the lab, arms full of folders. "Delete that email," he told you, out of breath. "The one from Yates. You weren't supposed to see it."

You looked up at him as you slid your phone down onto the counter. "Well, I did see it, sir," you whispered. "I don't even know what's going on."

"Neither do I," he responded gently, setting the folders down in a haphazard pile. "But I don't want your login credentials attached to this in any way. Whatever happened should stay out of your hands since your husband was involved with the special detachment. I'll take care of it. Understand?"

You started to nod, and then you said, "But, sir. Why am I getting emails from Admiral Yates?"

Your boss sighed and checked his watch. He looked frantic, and now you were really getting nervous for whatever must have happened during Bradley's deployment. But Bickel's words and the way he smiled kindly at you even though you could tell he was stressed out meant a lot.

"Because if you haven't noticed, you're second in command around here. Maybe not officially. Yet. But I rely on you for a lot of things, and everyone else in the group does, too. And your work is always spot on."

You felt tears prickle behind your eyes, and you had to look away from him as you muttered, "Thank you." But of course your eyes settled back on your computer screen and the email. 

"Delete the email," he repeated, and you knew he wasn't going to say it kindly a third time. So you did as your commanding officer told you to and watched the email soar into your trash can, and from there you deleted it permanently. "I'll take care of it myself so you know it's done correctly. I will pull the comms and verify the coding so you don't have to question whether or not the information being sent over has been properly validated. I don't want you worrying about this right now."

"But you'll need someone else to verify everything with you, sir," you whispered.

He nodded and closed your computer softly. "I'm just on my way to talk to Lieutenant Coleman about it. She's more than competent. She and I can sign off on it and get it ready tonight. You're dismissed for the day."

And that was it. Not another word. He picked up the folders and walked over to where Cat was sitting in front of her computer wearing the expensive headphones that were used to occasionally play back communications and check aircrafts for audio clarity. And Bickel interrupted her. It was kind of an unspoken rule that you didn't interrupt someone who was wearing the state of the art headphones. 

Cat jumped in her seat before giving Bickel her full attention. After a few seconds, her eyes met yours, and then she agreed with whatever he was telling her. You quietly stood and picked up your computer and headed for your office. 

You were the only one in your group with a private office other than Commander Bickel himself. Sure, yours was roughly a quarter of the size of his, and it had a view of the parking lot and a brick wall, but it was yours. And you were his number two. You really wanted to be able to enjoy that fact, but you'd been dismissed. Probably so he could talk about the court-martialing. And you figured that by now, Bradley would be wrapped up in these proceedings as well. 

You shoved all your stuff into your desk drawer and grabbed your keys. This morning had started off so beautifully: making out with your husband followed by an overpriced drink from Starbucks that he made sure was ready for you to pick up. 

When you opened your door to leave, Cat was standing there about to knock. "Yes?" you asked her, feeling like everyone must know what was going on now besides you.

"I just wanted to catch you before you left," she replied slowly. "I read the email from Yates. I promise I'll double and triple check everything even if I'm here all night."

"Thanks," you whispered, hoping you could trust her with this. You felt like somehow Bradley's integrity was tied to that audio.

Cat fiddled with her hands as she said, "It's my job, but you're also my friend." And then she turned on her heel and walked away so quickly, you couldn't really respond if you wanted to.

When you stumbled out of the elevator in the lobby, Jake was right there. "Have you seen Bradley?" you asked him, but he gathered you up in his arms and started to dance and spin you around in front of the main entrance. 

"Sure haven't. He's been locked away with Maverick all afternoon. Phoenix and Bob, too," he replied easily. "But guess who's going out with Cat tonight. Just take one guess, Angel."

"Oh," you gasped as he dipped you. Then you pressed your lips together, afraid to tell him that Cat and Commander Bickel would probably be verifying codes for the next several hours at least. 

He pulled you back to standing as he said, "Hang on, that's my phone." Jake pulled it out of his pocket and read the text message he received. "Shit. Cat cancelled on me."

"Jake-" But you stopped. You knew you shouldn't be talking about the special mission apparently gone wrong, but he looked so disappointed. He'd been wanting to go on an actual date with her for months, not just making out in the rec room. 

When he spoke, his voice was bland and monotone. "She's blaming it on working late. Meanwhile it looks like you're leaving early, so I'm not buying it." Then he laughed sardonically. "I was going to take her to a movie tonight, and then on Friday I was hoping Jeremiah could tag along on another date. I found a kid-friendly restaurant for dinner."

When you reached for his hand, he just shook his head. "Jake. Don't get upset with her, okay?"

He ran his hand through his hair as he walked away. "I need to get back to the hanger. Later, Angel."

You hated today. You wanted answers, and then you wanted to go to bed. And it annoyed you that you still wanted Bradley to read you to sleep from his notebook when he was the one who hadn't given you any details about his deployment, even though you had asked. Multiple times. 

When you pulled your car into the driveway, you realized Bradley wouldn't be home for at least an hour. You wanted to act normal about this and start making dinner or doing something productive, but you were starting to wonder if he was hiding information from you again, just like the sperm test results. And that was enough to make you lose your appetite. You hurried inside, and Tramp followed you to the couch where you sat and took some deep breaths. The realization that you should have just stayed on base and had a discussion with Dr. Genevieve washed over you, and you were afraid you were going to cry.

You wrapped your arms around Tramp and waited, and it actually didn't feel like too much time had passed when you heard the Bronco pull into the driveway. When the front door opened, Bradley looked surprised to see you.

"You're home," he said softly, closing the door behind him. When you just nodded and clung to Tramp, Bradley pressed his lips together. "I take it you heard about the....mishap?"

"Mishap?" you asked, finally scrambling to your feet as Tramp ran to Bradley. "That's what you're calling it? All I know is that I asked you all weekend to tell me about your deployment, but you didn't. And then today I got an email with your name and credentials listed underneath a docket number for two officers who are being court martialed."

Bradley bent to pet Tramp without taking his eyes off yours. "You're right. You did ask me several times, but Sweetheart, the weekend was so perfect. I didn't want to ruin it by talking about work."

You rubbed the heels of your hands against your eyes. "You were gone for eight weeks, Bradley. That's not the same as discussing a regular day at work. And clearly something absolutely insane happened! What are you trying to hide from me now?"

The rosy pink of his cheeks faded away as a look of pure panic filled his handsome features. "Nothing. There's nothing to hide. I just thought we'd talk about it today. I had no idea everything was going to blow up like it did."

You threw your hands up in the air, and you hated how shrill your voice sounded. "Is everything even okay?"

"Yes," he insisted, closing the distance to you and wrapping his arms around your body, enveloping you in his warmth. "Everyone who left the carrier deck made it back to the carrier deck."

Apparently you'd been holding your breath, because you were finally able to let it out. "Good," you whispered, burying your face in his neck. "That email made me feel physically sick."

"I'm sorry, Baby Girl," Bradley rasped next to your ear before kissing your temple. "If I knew everything was going to happen so fast, I would have taken some time out of the weekend to talk about it. But being back home with you and spending time as just us was really the only thing on my agenda."

You didn't stop him when he guided you toward the bedroom and started to unbutton and unzip you out of your uniform. And you let him pull his UVA shirt over your head and guide you into bed. And then you watched him strip down to his underwear before he picked up Tramp and climbed in with you. "Here's what happened," he said, pulling you close.

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

Bradley felt a little awkward detailing what went down in the air with Slayer for you. It was an odd thing to recount it to someone who wasn't an aviator, but you just held him tight and asked questions when you needed clarification. But the way you gasped when Bradley told you he was the spare made him feel somewhat validated. 

"The spare? This Admiral Dean asshole named you the spare?" You went shooting up in the bed, indignation flashing in your eyes as you pointed at him. "You're not the spare! You're the main event. You'd never treat a mission like it was your own little game where other people's lives didn't fucking count for anything!"

Bradley could tell he was blushing as he said, "Nat and Bob were directly in danger when I got called to the catapult." 

Now you were standing on your knees looking straight up furious. "What did you do?!"

He ran his hand along his mustache and whispered, "I just... dealt with it. I don't know. You know I don't like talking about air to air kills. Nat and Bob were leaking fuel to the point where I was convinced they wouldn't even make it out over the water before they had to eject. But Nat managed to land it on deck in spite of full engine failure."

"Full engine failure?!"

"Yes."

"And all of this happened because this Slayer person went way off course to attend his own rodeo or something?"

Bradley laughed in spite of himself. "Yes."

"Right. Right," you said, even though it sounded like you thought it was all very wrong. "And this Slayer child was allowed to be the fucking team leader because of Admiral Dean?"

"Yes."

You just shook your head at him, standing there on your knees with your hands on your hips. "A court-martial is too good for these fuckers," you said, your voice breaking as you lunged for him. 

Bradley caught you in his arms as you burst into tears. "Don't cry. Everyone is fine."

But you were shaking in his arms as you tightened your hold on him. "I could have lost you, Roo... and like, I just know there was at least a small part of you that thought I didn't want this."

He kissed your cheek and whispered, "I knew you loved me. I knew my ring was safe with you. That was enough."

You pulled away from where you'd had your face pressed to the side of his neck. Tears were welling up in your eyes before sliding down your cheeks. "No, that's not enough. I love you more than anything. And you deserve to hear me say that to you."

Bradley gently rolled you onto your back and let his cheek rest on your shoulder as you cried. He wrapped one arm around your middle and tried not to crush you with his weight as you threaded your fingers through his hair. It felt so good, the way you were touching him and crying for him. "I'm right here," he told you, and eventually your breathing evened out. 

"I can't believe spending the weekend in the bathtub with me was more important to you than getting all of that off your chest."

"Spending a weekend in the bathtub with you is more important than literally anything else I can think of," he promised, happy to hear you laugh. "But if we're being honest here, Sweetheart, when I got passed over for the mission and named as the spare instead... I'm having a really hard time coming to terms with the fact that I'm probably on the back end of my career as a pilot."

You were silent for a beat, but when you spoke, your fingers were still soft in his hair. "Who named the teams?"

"Admiral Dean."

"And have we not established that he's a mindless idiot who favors the aviators from Lemoore over everyone else?"

Bradley hadn't really considered that the hit to his ego and career should have been taken with a grain of salt. Perhaps there was something to be said for who was in charge of the mission details. "I'm still the oldest one around, compared to everyone at Top Gun and everyone from Lemoore," he murmured. 

"Older, sure," you whispered. "But you're also more experienced. And more patient. And smarter. And you were able to tolerate being named the spare without throwing a fit. You're not on the back end of your career. Maybe it will take a different shape, but it's not ending."

Without another word, Bradley fell asleep on you while he thought about what flying meant to him, your touch calming him enough to do that without panicking.

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

You were so hungry now that Bradley told you what had happened. Your stomach was starting to growl, and you realized that you hadn't actually started anything for dinner. But Bradley was still dozing on you an hour later, his arm heavy across your belly where you pressed your fingers to the ink of his tattoo. 

He must have been exhausted, dealing with all of this nonsense during his deployment and traveling across so many time zones. And yet he had made you feel so important all weekend, even attempting to make you breakfast. Giving you his undivided attention. Making love to you exactly how you needed it. 

When he eventually started to stir, you felt bad that you didn't have anything ready for him to eat. He looked up at you, slowly easing himself into a push up position above you. "Sorry...how long was I out?" he rasped, grunting as he bent his elbows until his lips met yours.

"More than an hour," you whispered as he kissed you over and over again. "You must be exhausted."

"Nah, I feel great," he promised, climbing out of bed and pulling you with him. "Want me to make you some toast?"

"Please don't. I was thinking of just ordering something since I didn't get anything ready to cook." You briefly thought about Cat and Bickel and wondered if they were still working right now.

"Let's get a pizza," Bradley said, grabbing his phone. "It's easy and Tramp loves when you feed him the crusts."

Later, when you sat down on Bradley's lap with a slice of pizza in your hand, you laughed as Tramp sat on the floor begging. You tore off a piece of the crust for him while Bradley inhaled two slices stacked one on top of the other. You were just about to ask him if he'd read some more of his notebook to you when he reached for a third piece. 

"Was thinking," he said between bites. "How about a bath before bed? And since you let me nap earlier, I could read until you fall asleep?"

You felt like you were on your honeymoon again where everything you did together just made sense. "You read my mind." And there was just something so good about his voice right now. Whether it was him sitting behind you in the tub or fucking you on the bathmat or leading you to the shower to get you cleaned up a second time, his voice in your ear was exactly what you needed. 

"We do some of our best work in the bathroom," he whispered, thrusting into you slowly as your towel unraveled from around you. 

"You say that about every room," you reminded him, letting him spread your legs wider as he nipped at your breasts. 

"Only because it's true, Sweetheart."

You giggled in the shower, because fifteen minutes ago you'd been clean and then he came inside you. But you were yawning non stop by the time you climbed back into bed. You could barely keep your eyes open as Bradley picked up his notebook and opened it to a page you hadn't heard him read yet. 

He wrapped one strong arm around you and cleared his throat. "Promise you won't get upset?" he asked you, holding the notebook just far enough away that you couldn't read it without your contacts or glasses.

"I mean, did you like write something really mean about me?" you asked, squinting. 

"No," he said with a laugh. "But it's a full page about all the shit I do that I hate."

"I won't get mad, but that doesn't mean I have to agree with any of it."

He responded by clearing his throat again and reading.

"I was never planning on being married to someone. That's exhausting, right? Way too much responsibility. What if they decide they hate you and leave one day? Or die of cancer? Or what if I burn in? What are you even supposed to do then? 

In an effort not to turn into either of my parents, I think I just gave up on the idea. My mom's engagement ring took up residence in a cardboard box in a storage unit for almost twenty years. I don't think I thought about it more than a handful of times, only occasionally remembering how pretty it looked when she wore it outside in the sunshine. 

And then I met a woman, and suddenly the fact that I didn't know the exact location of that ring was very unsettling to me. Was it in a box with photos, pushed all the way against the back wall? Was it in a smaller box with my dad's diploma from the Naval Academy? Which box was it in?

These thoughts alternated between being paramount to my very existence and also quite laughable. She wouldn't want to marry me. I'd only known her a few weeks. She was perfect. Beautiful. Funny. Smarter than everyone else. 

I second guessed myself even more than usual. And then the most peculiar thing happened. She accepted the ring right out of the cardboard box, and then she married me. 

But I haven't been good enough. 

And that is a fact that is worse than all my worst fears. It's worse than burning in. It's worse than dying of cancer. It's worse than being left behind. I can't stand the fact that she's too hard on herself because of me. That's fucked up. It makes me feel gross. I don't want a baby more than I want my wife. I just want my wife. I want her right now. I wanted her yesterday. I am going to want her tomorrow. 

But two weeks ago when I made her think I didn't, that was probably the worst thing I've ever done. Because it didn't even occur to me how much I was fucking up. Congratulations, you failed. Stop doing it. Be better. If you even get another chance."

When Bradley turned his head to see if you were still awake, you whispered, "I didn't like that page as much as the others."

"I figured you wouldn't." 

There were a million things you wanted to say to make him feel better. Share the blame for what happened. But he was proving to you that he had nothing to hide, and he was reading back his candid thoughts. And you never wanted him to stop. So you just kissed his neck and said, "Thanks for reading it to me. But now I want you to read my favorite page again." 

He flipped back to find it, and you were asleep after about five words. 

Your alarm for work came too early considering how cozy you felt in bed. If you could live in this moment a little longer, you gladly would. You felt warm and safe, and Bradley's first words of the day made you laugh. "I'll order you another overpriced coffee, but your new French press should be here today."

When you walked into the lab with your iced latte to find that Cat was the only person there, you gave her an awkward, "Good morning."

"Hi," she replied, stifling a yawn. She looked exhausted.

"How late were you here?" you asked her, feeling terrible that you weren't the one to put in all the extra hours. 

She eyed you hesitantly. "Pretty late. Bickel told me I could come in at lunchtime today, but I didn't want to leave you hanging out to dry with the proposals from Annapolis."

"Thanks," you whispered. But then your heart rate picked up a little bit as you thought about what happened to Bradley. You blurted out, "I need to know what was in that audio."

Cat was instantly shaking her head. "You can't listen to it. Bickel said he doesn't want your login credentials anywhere near it. Could be a massive conflict of interest if you handled it in any way."

You looked down at your boots. "What was it like?" 

She was silent for so long, you were afraid she wasn't going to tell you anything. When you turned toward your seat, she said, "It was hard to listen to. Your husband is a good person."

You kept your eyes on your workstation. "He didn't even tell me anything about it until last night."

"He didn't come running home from his deployment and tell you that he's actually a hero? Again? Bickel told me he seems to have a good head on his shoulders."

"No," you whispered, closing your eyes. "He came home and told me we'd talk about it later, because he missed me too much. And then he was good to me all weekend." Good was an understatement. But you did miss your French press.

"You know," Cat replied with a smile in her voice, "it is really hard not to hate you."

You turned to look at her over your shoulder. Maybe she figured you knew about Jake, and maybe she didn't, but you said, "You should reschedule your movie date."

The smile was gone from her face and her voice. "I think yesterday was a wakeup call. And canceling on Jake was probably in my best interest after all. I don't know what I was thinking when-"

"Stop making poor decisions," you snapped. "He found a kid-friendly restaurant, for fuck's sake. What more could you possibly want in a guy?"

"Nothing," she whispered. 

Then you plugged your computer in and said, "Thank you for telling me about the comms. And thank you for staying late. And thank you for not leaving me alone to finish the proposals today. But for the love of god, Cat, reschedule the movie, okay?"

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

Bradley was expecting you to meet him for lunch in the cafeteria. He even managed to secure the table where you and he were sitting the first time he asked you out. Which was just going to be the cherry on top of his plans for the day. 

Mav let him read the official court-martial documentation along with Nat and Bob. And then he had taken the time to write an official statement. And in about a month, he'd have to appear as a witness to what happened. The sad part was, it all seemed very cut and dry since this wasn't the first time Admiral Dean had shown unjust favoritism. Maybe you were on to something about why Bradley had been selected as the spare.

He heard your laugh before he saw you. It was that beautiful, overjoyed sound that was usually reserved just for him. In fact, he heard it last night when he had you underneath him on the bathroom floor, running his mustache along your pristine skin. But right now you had it aimed at his best friend, and he didn't really mind. You were hugging Nat like you were afraid she was going to vanish into thin air, and when you released her, Bradley watched you press a kiss to Bob's cheek before hugging him just as tight. Your cheek was pressed to Bob's chest when you met Bradley's gaze from a few tables away, and you smiled at him. Then you were headed his way.

"I got you a burrito bowl," he said, even though you could plainly see he had two on his tray. And instead of sitting down across from him, you took the chair right next to his and wrapped your hands around his bicep. 

"Roo, do you want to go up to the hot sauce restaurant after work on Friday? Maybe recreate our first date? But instead of me not giving you a handjob on the pier, I totally could."

Bradley's jaw dropped. You somehow read his mind. You took his idea about getting back to basics in your relationship and made it both romantic and also horny enough that he felt a little uncomfortable in his uniform pants. And you had the nerve to sit there and look sweet and innocent as you squeezed a little packet of hot sauce onto your lunch. 

"I was going to suggest the same thing," he rasped softly. "Minus the handjob. But I'm definitely down for the inclusion of the handjob."

You just smiled at him as you took a bite of your lunch, and your hand came to rest on his thigh. This was going to be a long week.

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

Need that first date reenactment to happen. And I love how the notebook has become a bedtime staple for them. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 16

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

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[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 35

Image Source

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 7.2K - This definitely could have been split into multiple parts but I started foaming at the mouth and have no self control.

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

Additional Note: You may have noticed that I’ve replaced all the images in previous parts with GIFs or photos linked to their original sources. A friend was helping me with the original images and I later found out they were primarily using AI-generated content. To support independent artistry, I’ve decided to remove those images and replace them with original works that include links to the sources. This decision aims to combat the negative impact AI can have on artists and creators. I apologize for the earlier oversight and will ensure to uphold artistic integrity going forward.

Three days. Three days in the House of Wind with just Azriel. The thought was exhilarating and a little terrifying, as you pondered the possibilities of what those days might hold. Azriel did have his personal home in Velaris, the Town House, but since your return, he had essentially relocated his life to the House of Wind to be near you. Now, you had three days of isolation with him, or so you thought.

Nesta paced about your room, her bare feet whispering against the plush blue carpet. You sat cross-legged on the bed, clutching a pillow in your lap as you watched her braided hair slowly unravel and the tension radiating from her every step. 

“Why did I do that? That was so stupid,” she muttered, her eyes flicking anxiously around the room.

“Nesta, you have to tell him,” you said softly, your voice steady but gentle.

“I could have waited longer, and now I’ve put myself in this situation,” she groaned, rubbing her temples as she sank into the chair in the corner, her fingers tracing erratic circles on her skin.

“How long did you think you could hold off?” you asked, knowing the answer was not much longer.

“Longer than this! Longer than this weekend.” She huffed, her fingers now digging into her scalp.

“Do you really not want to go?” you asked, watching as she chewed her lower lip, avoiding your gaze.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, her eyes darting to the floor.

You leaned back against the headboard, drawing your knees up. “You know, it’s probably going to be a little strange, given you asked to stay at the cabin and now you’re the one backing out.”

Nesta sighed. “I can’t back out now,” she said, her voice wavering, as if she were trying to convince herself more than you.

“You could always figure out a reason not to go,” you suggested, half-heartedly. 

She peered up, her brows raised slightly as though the idea were preposterous. “Like what?”

You hesitated, knowing you shouldn’t encourage her reluctance, but the desperation in her eyes made you ignore your better judgment. “You could say you don’t feel well.”

Nesta scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Yeah, like that won’t raise more questions.”

“Or you could say you just don’t want to go. That you’re not feeling up to it,” you offered, rolling your eyes slightly.

She leaned forward, burying her face in her hands, rubbing them up and down as a groan escaped her. “I can’t back out,” she finally sighed, leaning back again, “I need to just get it out there. I can’t hide from it if he’s standing right in front of me.”

“To be fair, he’s been standing in front of you for the last week, and you’ve been avoiding it,” you pointed out, your tone light but with a hint of sarcasm.

Nesta’s glare could have melted stone, her eyes sharp and venomous. “That’s different,” she snapped, before her hand unconsciously moved to rest on her womb, a tender touch to the life growing inside her. She turned to gaze out the tall windows overlooking Velaris, her eyes like reflecting pools of fear, guilt, and perhaps hope.

You observed her quietly, noting the new radiance pregnancy seemed to give her. Despite her worries, her skin glowed with a renewed vitality, her eyes, though filled with uncertainty, shone brighter, and her hair had gained a lustrous fullness. It was remarkable how quickly pregnancy transformed her. Your thoughts drifted to your own mother, wondering if she too had experienced that early glow, if she had known about her pregnancy at four months, or if you had been a secret she kept even from herself for as long as she could.

You tried to pull yourself from that daydream, reminding yourself that your mother was more a figment of your imagination than a memory. It felt childish to pretend she was anything more. “Nesta,” you began gently, “I can’t say I know exactly how you’re feeling.” Her eyes flicked to you, her finger tracing her lips absently. “And I won’t say everything’s going to be okay because, well, we both know that’s a promise I can’t keep.” Nesta’s delicate finger paused on her lower lip, her other hand pressing gently on her stomach as you continued, “But carrying all this stress alone,” you gestured to her, “it’s not good for you or the babe.”

Nesta’s eyes hardened, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “Cassian wouldn’t want you to go through this by yourself,” you added softly.

Her gray eyes, clouded with grief, locked onto yours. You could see the inner struggle, the battle between her fear and the need to share her burden. Silver began to line her eyes, the tears she fought to hold back shimmering like tiny stars.

“It’s okay to be scared,” you whispered, leaning forward from the headboard. “It’s okay to worry about the worst and try to prepare for it.” As a single tear escaped down her flushed cheek, you added, “But it’s also okay to feel joy about this. To celebrate. This is a big deal, Nesta—this is amazing.”

She sniffled, her attempts to brush away the tears only making them fall faster. You offered a reassuring smile. “Enjoy these moments with Cassian. He’d want to share this with you.”

Nesta nodded, her tears now flowing freely despite her efforts to contain them. She sniffed, her smile watery but genuine. “What about you? Plan for this weekend?” she asked, clearly eager to shift the focus. ”

You looked down, rubbing your hands over your thighs, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “Not sure what you mean,” you muttered.

A crooked smile tugged at Nesta’s lips. “Three days alone with Azriel,” she reminded you, her voice laced with teasing.

You nodded, still fighting the blush spreading across your face and, perhaps, a few other places.

“No big plans?” she pressed.

You shook your head, “Nope. Nothing formal.”

“How’s everything going with Azriel?” she inquired, her tone growing more earnest.

You glanced up at her. “You mean with me and Azriel?”

She nodded, her gaze intent.

“It’s good. Things are good,” you said, your voice trailing off as you tried to keep your composure.

Nesta let a silence settle between you, her smile turning knowing, almost cheeky.

“What?” you asked, finally meeting her gaze.

Nesta shook her head, crossing one leg over the other casually. “Just seems like you two are enjoying each other's company a lot.”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “We do like spending time together.”

“A lot of time,” she added, her eyes twinkling.

You glanced at her, your cheeks burning. “We get along.”

Nesta’s catlike eyes gleamed with amusement. “You know, I’ve never seen Azriel look at anyone the way he looks at you.”

You didn’t respond, but her words struck a chord, making your heart race.

“It’s like he can sense when you’re about to enter the room and drops everything just to see you first,” she continued.

You shrugged, trying to deflect. “Isn’t that part of his job? To be observant?”

“Sure, but he doesn’t get that goofy smile for just anyone,” she teased.

You knew the smile she meant—the half grin Azriel couldn’t seem to suppress. You wanted to dismiss it as Nesta reading too much into things, but deep down, you couldn’t ignore that Azriel had confessed his feelings to you. Feelings he said he hadn’t even realized he had until you came along.

“So?” Nesta prompted, her voice light yet probing.

“So what?”

“So things are going very well then?” she asked, her question thinly veiled as a statement.

“Yes,” you admitted. “Things are going well.”

“And things…” she raised her eyebrows suggestively, “down south?”

Your eyes widened in shock.

“Oh come on,” she groaned, her hands slapping her thighs in exasperation. “You read as many of those smut books as I do. Give a girl some details.”

You laughed lightly, embarrassed but amused by her persistence.

“You know the boys have a joke about wingspan being related to… other sizes?” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

You looked down at your hands, “No, I didn’t.”

“Mhm, and Azriel always goes oddly quiet when they bring it up.”

You giggled, making Nesta’s grin widen. “So… it’s good?” she pressed.

You shook your head, still laughing. “I wouldn’t know.”

Nesta’s face fell slightly, confusion clouding her features. “Wait, you mean you haven’t-?”

You shook your head, meeting her gaze. “We haven’t. Not yet.”

“But he’s been in your bed for months!” she exclaimed, a note of desperation in her voice.

You shrugged, feeling a mix of awkwardness and honesty. “We just,” you paused, “We haven’t gotten there yet.” And now pink rose to your cheeks for a different reason. 

Nesta broke her gaze, her own face flushing with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

You cut her off gently, “No, it’s okay. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it.”

Her interest sparked again, though she still looked cautious. “Have you two talked about it at all?”

You pulled the pillow closer to your lap, your fingers nervously tracing nonexistent frays. “Not really.”

You’d shared more of your past with Nesta than with anyone else, down to the painful details you tried to bury. Her voice, gentle and filled with concern, asked, “Are you ready for that?”

You kept your eyes fixed on the pillow. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with,” she began, her tone careful, “but I guess I just want to know if you’ve been intimate like that with anyone other than… him.”

A shudder ran through you at the thought of the 'him' she referred to, memories of past pain and harsh touches flooding back. “No,” you replied softly. “Not fully.”

Nesta nodded, understanding. “Do you think you’d want to try?”

You considered her question. Your body responded intensely to Azriel, your stomach fluttering at the thought of him, and his touch sent electric shocks through you. Physically, you were more than ready for something beyond mild petting. But those memories were powerful, and they had interfered before. They had with Kai, where attempts at intimacy had often triggered terrible flashbacks, forcing you to stop. Now, knowing that moments of vulnerability could open a line to Caelum, you worried if you could ever enjoy intimacy without the fear of what might slip through the bond. You looked up at Nesta, your voice trembling slightly, “I don’t want to go my entire life without being close to someone like that.”

Nesta gave you a gentle smile. “I think we both know that Azriel would understand.”

You returned a tight-lipped smile. You wanted to believe he would understand, that maybe he would even forgo that aspect if you asked. But then you thought of his skin against yours, the longing you felt for him, and the dream of a life you wanted, one that included closeness and a future you couldn’t have if you couldn’t be that intimate.

Nesta’s voice softened, almost a whisper. “I know it’s a little hypocritical, but,” she met your eyes, “just talk to him.”

She smiled softly, and you found yourself smiling back. You chucked the pillow across the room at her. She laughed, a bright sound that echoed through the room, and you laughed too. It felt good to laugh like that, to share a moment of joy with her, a moment that just felt normal. 

—

Nesta made good on her word, and when the morning finally came for her and Cassian to set off, she did so with a determined gleam in her eyes. When she hugged you goodbye, she lingered a bit longer than usual. You couldn’t tell if the prolonged embrace was for her or you, or perhaps for both—a silent recognition of a weekend that might have you both coming back changed.

As for Azriel, he missed the departure, having been called to the River House by Rhysand early that morning. He’d roused you slightly as he pressed a kiss to your temple, urging you to go back to sleep, promising he’d return before Nesta and Cassian left. Apparently, that hadn’t been the case. You didn’t know when he’d come back, but as you wandered through the hall, hands mildly dirty from prepping the rooftop garden for overwintering, you paused by the library, rocking back on your heel as you saw the outline of wings.

Peeking through the entrance, you found Azriel at the writing desk, his hand pressed to his temple, his leg bouncing under the table. His boot squeaked softly on the floor as shadows curled around his feet like restless cats.

“Hey,” you chirped cheerfully, stepping into the room.

Azriel started slightly at your voice, turning to you with a surprised smile. “Oh, hey!” he replied, that goofy grin lighting up his face.

You walked over, wiping your hands on the small towel you'd brought with you before tucking it into your back pocket. “Where have you been?” you asked, leaning your hips against the desk, your body angled towards him.

Azriel’s hazel eyes, sparkling with mischief, met yours. “Got caught up with Rhys,” he said, leaning back in the chair, his hands interlocking behind his head, causing his biceps to flex slightly.

“Everything okay?” you asked, arching a brow, noticing the way his eyes seemed to brighten at the sight of you.

He cleared his throat, his posture relaxed yet commanding. “Yeah, yeah, fine.” But his tone betrayed a hint of uncertainty.

Deciding to trust that, like Nesta with Cassian, Azriel knew what he was doing, you chose not to pry into matters beyond your reach. Instead, you nodded, and his eyes flicked to your hands.

“You’ve been busy,” he noted, gesturing towards your fingers.

You glanced down, seeing dirt still peppered under your nails. You began to dig them out, a sheepish smile crossing your face. “Oh, yeah. Elain had me prepping the soil for overwintering, but I might have gotten a bit carried away.”

Azriel chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I don’t know how you manage it, but it seems like every time you walk away from me, you come back covered in grime.”

Feigning offense, you scoffed, “Okay, well, every time you leave, you come back smelling like actual shit and death.”

“I’m talking about leaving you alone for five minutes, and you come back like that,” Azriel countered, his grin widening.

You shrugged, a playful glint in your eyes. “What can I say? I like dirt.”

“Dirty girl,” he purred, his tone taking on a teasing edge.

Heat crept up your cheeks as you looked away, biting your lower lip to suppress a smile. “Gross,” you replied, though a laugh slipped through.

Azriel’s laugh was a low rumble as he stretched back in his chair, his wings flaring slightly. His black shirt rode up, revealing the tantalizing V-lines that disappeared beneath his waistband, along with a glimpse of his defined abs. You tried to keep your gaze on his face, but your eyes betrayed you, flicking down for just a moment.

As he straightened, catching the way you looked at him, Azriel’s smirk deepened. “Enjoying the view?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the blush threatening to deepen. “Don’t flatter yourself, Shadowsinger.”

His chuckle was warm, and his eyes sparkled with teasing affection as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a soft, intimate murmur. “I think I already did.”

You rolled your eyes as you pushed off the desk, catching Azriel’s eyes trailing your hips as you walked away. It seemed he might have been entertaining thoughts of potential weekend activities himself. Letting yourself flop backward over the couch, you landed with a thud on your back, legs dangling lazily over the backrest. “Plans for the rest of the day?” you asked, casually picking at the dirt caked under your nails.

“Actually,” he replied, “I was wondering if you might be willing to do something for me.”

Your ears perked up just as you pulled a piece of your nail off completely, hissing slightly as a small bead of blood welled up in the tiny wound. “What is it?” you inquired, pressing your thumb to the spot.

“I have to meet someone from the Summer Court this afternoon.” Your heart sank a little, imagining Azriel’s weekend filling up with more responsibilities. “But I was supposed to pick up something from a shop in the city. If I drop you off, would you mind getting it? I can swing by and pick you up on my way back.”

You flipped your legs over the back of the couch, peering up over the crest of the sofa to meet Azriel’s eye. “Sure,” you agreed, though your voice lacked enthusiasm.

Azriel’s face relaxed, and the tension that had coiled around him when you walked in seemed to dissipate. “That would be fantastic, thank you.”

You smiled lightly, “Just let me clean up first,” you said, scooting off the couch.

“Thank the gods,” Azriel replied with mock relief. “I was worried I’d have to carry you down there smelling like dirt and sweat.”

As you walked out, you stuck your tongue out at him over your shoulder. He laughed, leaning back in his chair again, and you had to stop yourself from turning around to admire the view. 

“Careful, you might catch flies,” Azriel called after you, his tone teasing.

You snorted, waving him off as you headed to clean up.

—

When you finally finished getting dressed after your shower, you opened the door to find Azriel standing across the hall. You jumped slightly, hand flying to your racing heart. “Gods, Azriel! We need to get you a bell or something.”

Azriel smirked lightly. “Ready to go?” He seemed anxious, perhaps pressed for time, though he hadn’t exactly given you any.

“Now?” you asked, blinking in surprise.

Azriel glanced around in confusion. “Yes?”

“Oh, okay. That’s fine.” You opened the door wider as Azriel crossed the hallway, tossing you your jacket from the front entry hall.

It seemed he’d been waiting on you—how long, you had no idea. He threw open the balcony doors, letting the cool air rush in, a sharp reminder that winter was on its way. Azriel smiled over his shoulder, extending a scarred hand to you. “You haven’t told me what I’m getting for you yet,” you noted, taking his hand. He scooped you up under your knees, cradling you close as his wings took a few powerful flaps, lifting off the marble floor. Your stomach flipped at the quick descent down the mountainside.

“I wrote the address down for you. Just give them my name,” he said, the wind biting at the tips of your ears.

You furrowed your brow. “You’re not going to tell me what I’m picking up?”

Azriel glanced down at you, his smile widening. “What? You don’t trust me?”

You gave him an incredulous look. “Not even a hint?”

“Okay,” he responded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Just trust me on this one. It’s nothing bad.”

“I’m not collecting the head or fingers of your enemies?” you joked.

Azriel chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest. “That would be an errand I’d want to handle myself.”

“So it’s you who doesn’t trust me?” you countered playfully.

“I wouldn’t want to miss out on the fun,” he replied, smirking.

“Gross.”

“You love that word today, don’t you?”

“When I look at you, it’s the first word that comes to mind,” you shot back, your face breaking into a smile.

Azriel landed gracefully on a deserted sidestreet. “I’ll be back in about an hour,” he said, pulling a piece of parchment from his pocket. “Here.” He handed it to you, leaning in to place a light kiss on your temple.

You opened the paper, squinting at his neat, thin handwriting. No name of the building, but you recognized the street. “So I can’t know what I’m picking up or where I’m going?” you asked, looking up at him.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to be late. Consider it a trust exercise. Do you know where it is?”

“Well, I don’t know what ‘it’ is, but I do know where it is,” you replied.

“One hour. I’ll meet you there.”

You watched as he shot back up into the sky, wondering why, if he was meeting you there, he dropped you off a good fifteen-minute walk from your destination. But again, trust. So instead of calling out to question him, you sighed and began your trek through the city, shaking your head with a bemused smile. 

Local shops were already setting out items for Winter Solstice gifts, the streets adorned with twinkling lights and festive decorations. Your heart ached a bit, reminded of how different your life had been just a year ago. For a moment, you wondered if you had moved on too quickly from everything that had happened. You shook the thought away; dwelling on others’ perceptions of your healing wouldn’t help. Or at least, that’s what you tried to remind yourself.

You knew the shortest route to this particular street cut through the city near the entry gate, but the memories there were too sharp to face today. So, you opted for a longer, winding path, adding about ten minutes to your walk. The detour gave you a moment to breathe, to let the festive atmosphere seep in without the weight of the past pressing down too hard.

When you finally reached the correct street, you followed the numbers until you stood in front of a small bakery. The sweet scents of fresh breads and pastries swirled out from under the door, mingling with the crisp winter air. You rechecked the address Azriel had given you. This was definitely the place. Stepping up to the front door, your mouth watered at the sight of cranberry tarts with their crystalline sugar gleaming in the window, boxes of dark chocolates overflowing with cream, ganache, and fruit, and cakes delicately frosted with winter themes of ice and snow.

The bell above the door chimed softly as you entered, the warm, cozy interior a sharp contrast to the chill outside. Your eyes adjusted to the dim, inviting light, and you noticed a few other patrons standing in front of the large glass counter, debating their purchases. You approached the rather plump, cheery-eyed male at the register.

“Hi,” you greeted as he smiled down at you. “I’m here to pick up something for Azriel.”

“Oh!” The male’s eyes lit up with recognition. He nodded and disappeared into the back of the bakery. You must have been in the right place. While you waited, you watched a female baker behind the counter delicately package pastel macarons into a cellophane box, her hands flying yet precise as she tied a pastel blue ribbon over the top.

The male reappeared, holding a small white box secured with red twine. He handed it over the counter with a broad smile. You thanked him, looking down at the box with curiosity, slightly disappointed that you couldn’t see its contents like the macarons on display.

Given that the sun was beginning to set, you figured you didn’t have much time left before Azriel would come to retrieve you. With the mystery box in hand, you crossed the street and sat on a bench, pulling your jacket tighter around you as you watched fae bustle by.

A few small children barreled down the street, chasing each other and giggling wildly. They stopped in front of the bakery, pressing their noses to the glass, their eyes wide with longing for the delectable treats inside. You watched as the female baker inside noticed their hungry faces. She smiled warmly at them, exchanged a few words with the male baker, and then disappeared into the backroom.

Moments later, she emerged with a white paper bag and stepped outside, beckoning the children closer. They approached cautiously, eyes alight with excitement. She handed them the bag, her smile radiant as she reminded them to share. 

The children eagerly took the bag from the baker, nearly ripping it as they peered inside. Their eyes lit up with delight as they distributed various cookies and candies among themselves. You smiled, remembering how, when you were young, the baker Henri used to give you scones that hadn’t sold the day before. A memory that once included your mother, now replaced by Titania. There was something comforting about these children, nearly a century later, still engaging in the same rituals. Adults continuing to offer sweets from the kindness of their hearts, expecting nothing in return but a smile and the hope that these children might someday pass on the same acts of kindness.

You heard footsteps crunching on the sidewalk next to you and looked up to see two large, winged shadows approaching. Azriel’s face was partially obscured by the late afternoon sun. He took a seat next to you, crossing his legs casually and draping his arms over the backrest of the bench, one foot jostling slightly.

“Hey,” you greeted, moving the box to the other side of you.

“Hi,” he replied, his warm smile melting away the chill in your bones.

“All set?” you asked. He nodded. “How did it go?”

His face conveyed a sort of nonchalance, his mouth twitching slightly downward but not quite frowning. “Fine,” was all he said, shrugging. “How was your little errand?” He cocked an eyebrow, glancing at the white box.

You handed him the box, feeling its light weight in your hands. “Fine, I think.”

Azriel took the box from you, untying the twine and turning slightly away to examine the contents. You strained to see over his shoulder, but one large wing blocked your view.

“If all you wanted were pastries, why be so secretive?” you scoffed, amused, as he replaced the lid and turned back to you with a cheeky grin.

He rolled his eyes. “Can’t a male have a little fun?”

You huffed, your eyes scanning his face. There was something about his presence you couldn’t quite place. The look of hesitation behind his eyes, the continuous bouncing foot, and the odd secrecy made you think Azriel might be nervous about something. But what, you couldn’t quite figure out.

“Ready to go?” he asked quickly, standing and adjusting his jacket. You watched him, taking the hand he extended to you, agreeing quietly while complaining slightly about the cold. He just called you a crybaby in response.

The two of you walked through the streets, searching for a quieter sidestreet where Azriel could fully stretch his wings for takeoff. When you finally found one, he picked you up gracefully, asking you to hold the pastry box, which you obliged. The entire flight home, you debated just opening the lid for a peek inside.

As you landed back on the marble balcony, Azriel gently placed you on your feet. You adjusted your top, smoothing the fabric with a quick tug, while he reached for the double doors and swung them open, reclaiming the white pastry box from you. The warm glow of the fire beckoned from within, its gentle crackling drawing you closer. You shrugged off your jacket, tossing it casually onto the bed as you entered the room.

“Thanks,” Azriel’s voice followed you. “For doing this for me.”

You gave a nonchalant shrug, flopping down onto the plush bed, your arms stretching upwards as you tried to ease the ache in your muscles. “No worries.” You expected Azriel to make a swift exit, eager to tackle the next task on his agenda, but he lingered. Standing near the double doors, his eyes stayed on you, a quiet intensity in his gaze.

Lifting your head off the bed, you noticed his prolonged stare. Feeling a bit self-conscious, you asked hesitantly, “Everything okay?”

Azriel snapped out of his reverie, his scarred finger tracing the twine of the pastry box absentmindedly. “Yeah, it’s fine,” he replied shortly, a touch of awkwardness in his voice. “Dinner?”

At his offer, you sprang up from the bed with eagerness. “Yes! I’m starving,” you exclaimed, your voice edged with a playful whine.

Azriel’s lips twitched into a soft, fleeting smile, the sound of a light laugh escaping him. As he started towards the door, you stumbled over your own feet, trying to kick off your boots in a rush. You fell into him, face-first against his chest, his warm laughter rumbling through you and making your stomach flutter. “Careful,” he chuckled, steadying you with a gentle hand.

“Sorry,” you murmured, pushing back slightly, your hands pressing against the hard muscle of his chest. You glanced up, your chin hovering mere inches from where your fingers rested.

Azriel’s gaze softened, his other hand still clutching the pastry box. With a slight nod, he led you out of the bedroom and down the hallway towards the kitchen. Normally, you and Nesta or Azriel would eat casually around the kitchen island, but tonight was different. Azriel walked past the kitchen doors, his pace quickening with a hint of excitement.

You paused in front of the kitchen, a confused look crossing your face. “Aren’t we eating?” you asked, glancing towards the familiar island.

Without stopping or turning back, Azriel urged, “Come on,” his tone carrying a trace of anticipation.

Puzzled but intrigued, you followed him, your stomach rumbling in sync with your growing curiosity. As you trailed behind him through the sunken living room and past the cozy library, you realized he was leading you towards the grand dining room. A room you had only seen used for formal family dinners hosted by Nesta.

Azriel reached the doorway, his imposing wings nearly filling the large frame. Turning to face you, his smile broadened, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

You couldn’t help but smile back, still trying to decipher his peculiar behavior. Azriel pushed open the door, stepping aside with a radiant, cheeky grin that made your heart skip a beat.

As you stepped through the doorway, Azriel trailing behind, your breath caught in your throat. In the center of the grand dining room, which typically housed a vast, imposing table fit for large gatherings and entertaining, stood a much smaller, more intimate table, set elegantly for two.

The table was adorned with an elegant lace tablecloth, its intricate patterns catching the flicker of candlelight. Candles were placed strategically around the room, their soft, golden glow dancing off the walls. The centerpiece was a lush arrangement of flowers, the key flowers being purple hyacinths—your favorites.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to the exquisite spread laid out on the table, a feast of your favorite dishes, each more mouthwatering than the last. Golden roast chicken, perfectly seasoned with a medley of colorful, caramelized vegetables, parsnips, and baby potatoes crisping in the tray. A bowl next to it held bright, emerald-green steamed asparagus drizzled with a cream sauce, a favorite that Titania used to make for you as a child, you had recently learned. Sautéed mushrooms and wild rice pilaf made your mouth water, and a few freshly baked rolls, still warm from the oven, rested in a basket lined with a blue towel. 

You stood there, momentarily stunned by the sheer meticulous effort placed on each part of the room and table. You couldn’t conceive of any other food on the table that wasn’t one of your favorites, as though someone had crawled into your mind, into your childhood, and handpicked out the moments you held with reverie. Azriel came to stand next to a chair, pulling it out slightly as you approached.

“Az, this is—” you stammered. “How did you—?”

Azriel merely chuckled as you took your seat, sliding it in behind you, then crossing around, pouring a sparkling purple wine into a crystal-clear glass and passing it to you.

“This is,” the words couldn’t even come to your mouth as you took the glass, staring down at the food in front of you. “This is insane.”

Azriel poured himself a glass, swirling it lightly as he gazed across at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement as you tried to get your mouth to close from awe. He took a light sip from the cup, the first taste hitting his palate as his face scrunched up, eyebrows drawing together and then widening in surprise before narrowing into discomfort. He peered into the glass, mildly confused, and then slowly processed the unexpected saccharine assault on his taste buds, followed by a sharp exhale through his nose. “This is so sweet,” he said, shoulders and wings rising in an involuntary shudder.

You looked down into your own glass, the sweet aroma of blackberries filling your nostrils as you took a tentative sip. You were greeted with an intense burst of blackberry flavor, as if a handful of the plumpest berries had been freshly crushed, the taste rich and succulent with small hints of dark chocolate and vanilla coating your throat. You almost moaned in sensual delight. Your eyes shut as you melted into your chair. You finally managed to moan out, “This is delicious.”

Your eyes fluttered open to see Azriel swirling the wine in his glass, peering into it with his mouth pulled up in a sneer as though a fly had landed in it. “Oh come on,” you said, taking another sip.

Azriel’s eyes flicked back to you, his sneer growing more exaggerated. “You actually like this stuff?”

“What about it don’t you like?” you asked, your tone slightly accusatory.

“It tastes like pure sugar,” he responded flatly.

“No, it doesn’t! It tastes like blackberries.”

“Blackberries that have been coated in sugar.” He glanced into it again, “There’s probably one blackberry for three cups of sugar.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back against your chair as you took another delectable sip, eyes shutting again as you felt the warmth of the wine trickle down your throat. You hadn’t had this kind of wine since—

Your eyes shot back open as Azriel tried another sip, the same reaction flying from him. “How did you know I liked blackberry wine?”

Azriel seemed to pause in stillness as he gulped down his drink. “Lucky guess?” he offered.

You shook your head, leaning forward. “You were spying on me,” you said, eyes narrowing.

Azriel’s own eyes went hollow as he considered the best way out of this situation. “I wasn’t intending to.”

You laughed lightly, “So your shadows just followed me around on their own accord?”

At that, you felt the cool breeze around your ankle as one shadow skirted past you. “To be fair,” Azriel offered, “they are fond of you.”

Your gaze turned into a glare as Azriel tried to dig himself out. He placed his glass on the table, leaning his elbows onto it, eyes lined with sincerity. “Look, it was right after you left, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“So how long were you watching me?” you asked, slightly more forcefully.

Azriel’s palms faced upward. “Only until it seemed you and Kai were getting more serious.” He paused. You scanned his face for any sign of deception but found none. Only pure sincerity. “Once you seemed like you had someone to rely on, I stopped.”

You leaned back, calming yourself again. In truth, you weren’t too upset that it seemed Azriel had been pining after you much longer than you had thought. Not to mention that knowing there was someone watching over you who wasn’t your mate allowed you to breathe a bit of a sigh of relief. You picked up the glass, swirling it so the sweet wine scent hit your nose again, breathing it in deeply.

“So you’ve seen me drunk?” you asked, taking another sip, eyes heavy as you cocked a brow at Azriel.

Azriel chewed his lower lip, trying to contain a slight smile playing at his lips. “Perhaps,” he offered back.

You quickly tried to sift through your memories, wondering about the things you had said or done that might now cause some embarrassment. “You’re giggly when you’re drunk,” Azriel remarked, a playful glint in his eye.

You set your glass down on the table, leaning forward as he carved a piece of chicken for you, placing it on your plate. The warm juices from the pan flowed onto the dish, tantalizing your senses. “And what are you like?” you inquired, arching a brow.

Azriel let out a breathy laugh as he served himself. You grabbed the tongs, dishing asparagus onto both your plates. “I haven’t gotten drunk in a long time.”

You handed over the tray to him as he passed you the rolls. “How long is a long time?”

Azriel pondered for a moment, setting the pan back down on the table. “Half a century?” he responded, sounding like he was questioning his own memory.

You picked up your fork, eyeing him with a smirk. “Sometimes I forget you’re ancient,” you quipped, taking a bite of the chicken. The savory sauce melted in your mouth, making you moan with delight.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “It stops being important once you turn one hundred.”

You opened your eyes again, taking another greedy bite. “That’s what someone who’s too old and boring to get drunk would say,” you teased.

“I got my days of heavy drinking out of the way before I took on one of the most important roles in the Night Court,” he countered, leaning back. “It’s not exactly a good look to be falling all over yourself in front of those in power.”

You scoffed, “Cassian seems to have no problem with it.” It’s true, Cassian seized every opportunity to get absolutely sloshed at formal events, often challenging other warriors to drinking contests.

“Let’s not use Cassian as our standard for formality,” Azriel replied with a chuckle. “But when I used to get drunk, I’m told I got rather chatty.”

You almost choked on your food. “Chatty?” you questioned, wide-eyed.

Azriel flicked his eyes at you from under his brows as he took a bite. “Is that surprising?”

You shrugged, chewing a bit more carefully this time. “Chatty with everyone? Or just the people you know?”

Azriel leaned back in the chair, his wings casually lounged behind him. “According to Rhys and Mor, everyone.”

The thought of Azriel being the life of the conversation somewhere in a bar in Velaris, chatting it up with strangers, almost made you laugh out loud. “I’m sure you were fun at parties,” you offered, swallowing down your bite with another glass of wine.

“I would say I still am,” he replied, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“You think fun is brooding in the corner?”

“You’ve only ever seen me at Night Court events,” he countered.

“But you’re a party animal at the tavern?” Azriel rolled his eyes. “Maybe that’s why you don’t like sweet wines,” you teased, leaning over the table. “You’re too old to enjoy something so youthful. You’d rather have a dry glass of white wine or some liquor that burns like firestarter.”

Azriel scoffed at you. “Am I going to regret doing all this for you?” he joked back.

You smiled at him sweetly, looking back down at your plate. “No,” you replied, a touch quieter and sincere. “This is amazing. Thank you.”

Azriel’s face lit up slightly at your response. “I just thought you deserved a nice night,” he said.

You gestured to the table, “You really got all my favorites, even the ones I haven’t told you about or eaten in front of you.”

Azriel glanced toward the ceiling. “I’ll admit, the House did provide me with some insight on things you ask for late at night.”

You followed his gaze up, whispering in a hiss, “Those moments were supposed to be secret.”

Azriel laughed, “That and Titania helped fill me in on the rest.”

You ran your finger around the rim of your glass, heart and belly slowly filling with a feeling of deep adoration and joy. “This is really nice,” you finally whispered.

Azriel reached a scarred hand across the table to you, taking yours. “You deserve to enjoy the things you love,” he offered, his voice filled with quiet sincerity.

Azriel shared with you that, unlike what you might have considered, he actually prepared all the dishes himself. He prepped the meal early in the morning with the help of Nuala and Cerridwen at the River House and then took the hour he had misled you into going to the bakery to set everything up. He really had thought of everything.

As you settled back in your chair, the plate nearly licked clean, you let out a sigh of gratification. Azriel, who had indeed brought out some nasty liquor you refused to try despite his imploring, swirled his glass across from you. His eyes lit up suddenly as he jumped from the table. “I almost forgot!”

You straightened slightly as he brought out the white box from the bakery, setting it in front of you to open. You glanced up at him, smiling. “You made me get my own dessert?” you teased.

“Oh yeah, I’m so sorry,” he replied sarcastically. “How foolish of me to ask you to do one thing so I could do all of this for you.” He gestured around the room with a dramatic flourish.

You smiled back as you undid the twine, peeking in at two delicately crafted tarts. The rhubarb, lemon, and berry compote glistened up at you, the crust perfectly crisped. Your mouth fell open again as Azriel looked down at you, joy in his eyes. You peered back up at him, “These are the tarts that Elain made when I first came here,” you said, breathless.

Azriel shrugged, “Not the exact ones. But they’re as close as I could get to the real thing without cluing Elain in.” In fairness, Elain couldn’t keep a secret, and for something of this nature, which included romance and food, she would have spilled every detail the second Azriel told her.

You found your hand seeking Azriel’s as you marveled at the beautiful little desserts, eyes welling up with emotion. This entire dinner was a three-course journey through your life, from childhood to now, all prepared for you, all a reflection of who you were and the things you had experienced. You felt a tear start to fall, but Azriel caught it, tilting your head up to face him, his own eyes filled with a sincerity and care you don’t know if anyone had ever had for you before. “Thank you,” you whispered lightly.

Azriel leaned down, his lips meeting yours, the oils from the chicken mingling with the sweet wine on your own lips. While you could taste the fiery hint of his drink, you didn’t pull away, lost in the soft caress of his lips as his thumb drew a lazy line down your face, his other hand coming to cup the other side. The kiss held no intensity other than pure adoration, care, and unbridled joy. When he pulled back, Azriel smiled down at you again, and you giggled lightly when he reached into the box, pulling out one of the tarts with his hands and taking a crumbling bite from it.

“Hey!” you protested, laughing as he chewed. “That’s mine!”

Azriel shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Consider it a toll for the perfect evening.”

To my readers, I'm hot, bothered, and need to be put back into my enclosure. We about to get wild: @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra @skylarkalchemist @darling006 @loglady00 @caninnes

[octuscle]

If a nerd in highschool suddenly gained muscular body, without an effect on his brains or mental state

How quickly would he actually, naturally change? Maybe the attention gives him an ego?

Or maybe the jocks want to be his friend

How much of a jock could the nerd become?

Project diary, entry 1 (Friday)

My name is Salomon Miller. I live in Providence, Connecticut and am a senior in high school. I wouldn't say I have any real hobbies, but I am interested in art history, architecture, astronomy and geology. And many other things. I read a lot and actually everything I can get my hands on. But my passion is sociology and political science. That's also one of the reasons why I'm writing this diary. Starting next semester, I will be studying at Stanford and have a full scholarship, which is linked to my participation in a project. The Department of Sociology will use my person to investigate the effects of serious physical changes on the psyche and behavior. I won't find out in advance what the physical changes are, but the changes were set in motion with the help of an injection that I received today.

My parents support me in the project. My father is a lawyer specializing in environmental law, my mother is a neurologist and psychiatrist. Neither of them understand why I chose to study sociology, but as they both studied at Stanford, they accept my plans. They don't have many options either, they are both in Europe for a long time. My mother has a research semester at the University Hospital of Heidelberg and my father is currently representing a client in a lengthy case at the European Court of Justice. I've known this situation since I was a child. I'm used to having our gardener or Consuela, our housekeeper, as my social contact. That's not meant in a negative way, I love my parents, even if our contact is often less intensive. This has taught me a certain independence, which I really appreciate.

Today is the Friday evening before the last weekend of the summer vacation. The date was chosen deliberately for the injection. This gives me until Monday morning to get used to the upcoming transformation. At the moment, I feel nothing more than a certain tiredness. Normally I would go for a long walk or read something. But I'm just exhausted and will go to bed early.

Project diary, entry 2 (Saturday)

I woke up at around 03:00 in the morning. I was scared to death. I was almost strangled by my pyjamas. I tried to rip the top off my body. I tore it completely to shreds. I was no longer wearing my pyjama bottoms, which were already lying in tatters in my bed. It was clear to me that the transformation had begun. And a look in the bathroom mirror gave me certainty. My whole body was twitching, just like I'd seen in a Hulk movie. Except I didn't turn green. But my muscles literally grew. In fact, little else has changed. I am still clearly me. Even though my neck was already wider than my head, which is why I almost suffocated in my pyjamas, this was still my face. My hairstyle unchanged. My eyesight was also the same. Fortunately, the head can't get any more muscular, the glasses still fit. My thoughts were running amok in my head, I can't describe the feeling, especially as the cramps didn't stop and the muscles continued to grow. I lay down on my bed and tried to relax. At around 04:30 the cramps subsided and I fell asleep again from exhaustion.

When I woke up at around 09:45, I was lying sticky and sweaty in a dried up puddle of semen. Obviously I had ejaculated once or several times. After getting up, I went to the bathroom to assess the change. According to the scales, I now weigh 120 kilograms (I assume that documentation in metric units is more scientific), my height is unchanged at 182 cm. What has actually changed is the length of my penis, which is now 18 cm when flaccid. I have not yet been able to measure the length when erect. In fact, I would have thought that the sight of a muscular man would somehow excite me. But my head has been working like crazy since I got up, I suppose my blood is needed in my brain and is not available for an erection. The shower was still an incredible experience. My body feels great. I had no idea what muscles felt like. However, I realized while showering that I had a problem: None of my clothes would fit me anymore. And my father is smaller than me and, like I was until yesterday, is also more of an ectomorph. My only hope was that José, our gardener, who is probably almost as muscular as me and about my height, had some of his clothes in the dirty laundry. He and Consuela both don't work at the weekend and I didn't want to invade his room.

I was actually lucky and managed to find a pair of jeans, a jockstrap, a T-shirt and a pair of tennis socks in the laundry. Everything smelled very unpleasant and at first I thought about washing it first and then putting it on, but then decided against it. Instead, I went to the mall as I was to buy something new to wear. There is an expense account from the project, which is presumably intended for exactly these cases. Shopping really was an ordeal. As usual, I went to Macy's at Providence Place Mall first, but I realized pretty quickly that I wasn't going to find anything in my size there besides clothes for gym class. Then I went to Abercrombie & Fitch for the first time. The sales assistants literally pounced on me. The XXL T-shirts fitted reasonably well, my thighs were too big for the jeans, but shorts were fine. Fortunately, the weather forecast for the next few days is still very good.

Even though I was extremely focused on quickly working through my shopping list and getting back home, I didn't miss the effect I had on my body. Not only did the sales clerks pay much more attention to me, people turned to me, nodded appreciatively at me and greeted me. It all made me extremely uncomfortable. I was glad when I got home again.

Project diary, entry 3 (Sunday)

I'm not really a religious person, but I value the institution of the church as a culturally integrating entity. So I probably would have actually gone to church, but I would have been very uncomfortable in shorts and low-cut t-shirts that exposed my chest. So I spent the day making up my bed, doing the laundry and getting ready for the first day of school after the vacations. My story for teachers and classmates will be that I spent the summer in Europe with my parents and discovered my enthusiasm for the gym out of boredom. I have no idea whether this story will be accepted. As much as possible, I completed the course enrollment online. Because I really have no idea what I can do with this body, I signed up for boxing and wrestling. The alternative would have been football, but I have no experience at all with team and ball sports. Swimming used to be the sport I hated the least, but a few laps in our pool today have shown me that my body has become less streamlined. Although I have a lot more strength, my times are worse than usual.

I have signed up again for the astronomy and chess clubs. Apart from that, I thought it made sense to leave myself enough time to be able to react to unexpected events.

My first real test was my Sunday video conference with my parents. As I can't hide anything, I decided to take the offensive and had the conversation in nothing but my swimming trunks by the pool. Even though I had no real idea of my parents' reaction, I was actually taken aback. My mother scientifically dissected the situation and said that my body was probably more efficient now and therefore I would have a benefit gain. My father disagreed, as he assumed that a bulkier body had a worse ecological balance. In the beginning, I tried to approach this project as objectively as possible. But then I couldn't help but start crying. I was afraid of tomorrow. And my parents actually showed something like emotion and compassion.

Project diary, entry 4 (Monday)

I was expecting something like running the gauntlet. But the first day at school was actually relatively unproblematic. Most of my friends at least pretended to believe my story about my stay in Europe. The teachers were not surprised either and largely went straight back to business as usual. The only noticeable reaction came from the musclemen and jocks. I have the feeling that they never took their eyes off me. When there was eye contact, I received a respectful nod. Otherwise, I felt a bit like a foreign lion approaching a pride of lions. Every muscle of the alpha animals and their water carriers was tense and ready to strike if I got too close to their watering hole. I'm looking forward to my first PE lesson tomorrow.

Project diary, entry 6 (Tuesday)

While the morning was more of a triumph, the afternoon was a debacle. The subject matter in chemistry and physics suits me very well, everything is very interesting. There shouldn't be any significant challenges in Spanish lessons either. But the new Spanish teacher is also an advantage here. Based on her first impression, she probably thought I was a hollow nut. She didn't expect me to have already read Don Quixote in the original and in the contemporary Spanish transcription during the vacations.

I embarrassed myself to the bone in gym class. Of course, after my contrived lie, everyone assumed that I knew my way around the gym like the back of my hand. And I don't even know how to hold a barbell properly. Interestingly, no one laughed at me or anything. On the contrary, they all assumed that I'm extremely underchallenged and told me that I should just train for myself and that I should join them next week after I've learned the basics. But maybe that was just polite contempt.

In any case, I spent the whole afternoon and evening at home watching all the gym tutorials I could get hold of and reading everything I could find about bodybuilding, nutrition and supplements. That's why I skipped the first session of the chess club. But I had to prioritize.

Project diary, entry 7 (Wednesday)

Theory is good, practice is better. That's why I went straight to the gym this morning at 06:00. The school janitor who opened the door for me said appreciatively that my discipline was paying off. The big boys are always the first to arrive in the morning. If only he knew. But in fact I was lucky, I was alone on the training area until 07:00 and by then I had familiarized myself with most of the machines I had learned how they worked in theory and had also developed a feeling for the weights I was able to lift.

The second visitor to the gym after me was the quarterback of the football team. Stephen and I have been at the same school since first grade. Of course I know him. But of course he has no idea who I am. We've never had classes together and someone like me is of course a nobody to him. Or was a nobody to him. Now I was his biggest rival, the only classmate who had bigger biceps and a broader chest than him. And being the alpha male that he was, he sought conflict directly. As far as I know, the jocks and Himbo's call it "cock comparison". Wherever I trained, he did the same afterwards with more weight. After training, he waited for me in front of the shower and said that he had already heard about me. I was the Spanish exchange student. I looked at him questioningly. "Well, the one who had that book with the windmills and the crazy knight at school. The linebacker goes to your Spanish course. Clever to take Spanish as a Spaniard," he said. I shook his hand, introduced myself as Salomon and told him we were in the same kindergarten. He returned the offered hand with a fist bump and said that I must have mistaken him. He had never been to Spain. But I spoke very good English for a Spaniard.

I always prefer to spend my lunch break alone. I like to read or just relax. This time, however, Stephen waved me straight over to him and his boys. He introduced me as Sal and said I should tell him how I liked it in the USA. At first, I wanted to start comparing European democracies with the US, especially in light of the rise of populist tendencies. But then I didn't think that was a good idea and just said that I thought the USA was the greatest country in the world. Stephen gave me a fistbump and all his buddies followed suit. Before English class after lunch, my friend Frederick passed me and said somewhat reproachfully whether I would always eat with the football team now. I laughed and gave him a fist bump and said that I would only eat as long as my primate research project lasted.

Project diary, entry 8 (Friday)

Yesterday was a wild day! I went to wrestling practice. Everyone but me has taken wrestling as a sport since they were in high school. I'm the only one who had no experience at all. Sure, I looked at and read through everything I could find to prepare. But without any practical experience, I really made a fool of myself. Thank God the coach really understood me. He said that he was sorry that bodybuilding wasn't a school subject. And then he gave me tips on how to pose properly. Damn, when I stood in front of the mirror in just my underpants and he touched my muscles to get them in the right position, I got a boner. And he obviously noticed. He then hugged me from behind and massaged my nipples. It was a feeling I'd never experienced before. I started to moan. He pulled me close to him. I felt his hard-on against my ass. And then I had my first orgasm outside of my bathroom. I was so embarrassed. And it was so great! Since then, I've really just wanted to make my coach proud. I've spent every spare minute at the gym, signed up to the sports club to do more wrestling and spent a small fortune on sportswear. I'm afraid I have a real crush for the first time in my life.

Today I got a telling off from my friends from the astronomy club. I missed the meeting and no longer see them during school breaks. I admit it, I'm neglecting my old social environment. But I have to find my way in my new role. Or rather, I have to find this new role first. Tonight I have a date with a couple of guys from the sports club. We're going to the gym first and then want to watch football in the sports bar. I'm a bit excited because I've tended to spend my weekend evenings alone in front of the computer so far. Now I have to think about what I'm going to wear.

Project diary, entry 9 (Sunday)

Dude, I might be drunk. For the second night in a row. The weekend is one big party. Last night at the sports bar was great. It was a little hard at first to pretend I knew anything about football. But after one beer I didn't give a shit. At some point, someone bought me some booze. Because his team had won or something. I was completely out of it and had to puke at some point. I can't really remember, but I'm afraid I didn't hit the toilet bowl. One of the boys then took me home with him. I really wasn't able to find my way home. Apparently, at some point I invited the boys over for a pool party on Saturday. And it escalated a little bit. Fuck, I probably have to spend the rest of the day tidying and cleaning. But for now I'm going to bed. After I've thrown up.

Project diary, entry 10 (Monday)

I'm a bit embarrassed about my behavior at the weekend. When I woke up on Sunday, a few of the boys were still snoring by the pool. And a few of them were making breakfast on the barbecue. I didn't really get around to cleaning. And then I overslept today too. Consuela suddenly came into my room and asked if my parents knew what had happened here. I gave her 100 dollars from my emergency expense fund and asked her not to reveal anything. She and Raoul actually did a great job. When I got home from astronomy club late at night, everything was pretty tidy again. The two of them are real treasures!

Mondays are not sports days. History, English, math. I admit that math has never been my hobbyhorse. And my teacher has made no secret of the fact that he thinks I'm an overprivileged white boy. When I couldn't answer a question to his satisfaction today, he said something along the lines of "Muscleheads are just all airheads". The whole back row started throwing paper balls at the teacher and hooting in protest. I have never received such expressions of sympathy.

Between school and the astronomy club, I went to the optician and got some contact lenses. Glasses are just so annoying when you're doing sport. And then I went to the hairdresser. I like my haircut. My hair is longer at the nape of my neck than at the sides. I had a photo of Coach with me and said that I wanted to look like this. Hehehe, the hairdresser said that he couldn't take away my muscles. In fact, I'm bigger than Coach. The hairdresser also shaved my beard. I haven't even written that yet, I have the feeling that my beard and body hair are growing faster and thicker. A bush is growing under my armpits and in my pubic area...

The astronomy club was terribly exhausting. I wanted to concentrate on the Jupiter-Venus conjunction. We had the best conditions to observe it today. But the nerds were all just asking questions about what exactly it was like on vacation, how I trained, how I changed my diet. I prepared myself for these kinds of questions. But every one of my answers was scientifically dissected. If it goes on like this, I'd rather look at the stars alone.

Project diary, entry 11 (Thursday)

The last few days have been pretty exciting, which is why I didn't get around to writing the diary. After training on Tuesday I went to the showers. Not all the guys on the team do this, but I just don't feel comfortable in the sweat with a bit of Axe under my arms. I also urgently needed to clear my balls and cock of the hair that was growing and shave my chest. I still can't get used to how hairy I get. In any case, it all took longer than with the other boys and then I was alone with Chuck in the shower. And suddenly Chuck knelt in front of me and sucked my cock. Without warning. I had prepared myself for intercourse in theory and in practice.

In any case, I've been a bit confused ever since. I mean, I have a crush on Coach. And Coach also got a boner when he helped me pose. I mean, he must think I'm hot too. But Chuck says he's had a crush on me ever since he and I spent Friday night together. The night I don't remember. But I'm writing all mixed up...

The blowjob in the shower was definitely sooooo hot. Even though it didn't last long. Boy, I shot my load into Chuck's mouth like that. My cum was leaking out of both corners of his mouth. He French kissed me with my cum in his mouth. Dude, I'm getting hard just thinking about it. And then he grinned and said that edging wasn't really my thing. I had no idea what he meant. In any case, I kissed him again and started wanking his cock. I was far too excited to suck him off myself. Chuck moaned and started twitching. Then he pulled me against him and wedged his cock between our stomach muscles. And then blew his load. Bloody hell! I don't know how long we showered together and soaped each other up.

In any case, I then started to gain practical experience with sexual intercourse. Chuck spent the night with me the day before yesterday and yesterday. The first time we fucked was really awkward. Chuck also asked if I was still a virgin. I said no, of course. But I'm sure he realized that it was the first time I'd fucked someone. And also that I was being fucked. In bed and in the hot tub. The first time I blew him was Wednesday in the school bathroom. We both just had a lot of pressure on our balls before civics. Shit, I'd never thought about sex before, now I can't get sex out of my head.

Practice is coming up. I just jerked off to the idea of forming a sandwich with Coach and Chuck in the shower. That would be so hot!

Project diary, entry 12 (Sunday)

Shit, I love my life. The parties this weekend were so hot. I mean, sure I love Chuck, but my dick has too much energy for one man. And Chuck gets off on me fucking other men too. As long as he's the only one who gets to fuck me. It's a point of honor, of course!

Before I go to bed now, I went to the gym again. To burn off the alcohol. And prepare my muscles for a tough week. I have my first wrestling tournament next Friday. And I've promised Steph-bruh, the quarterback, that I'll drop by football training. The hollow nut still calls me wetback, but has now understood that I'm not Spanish or Latino. And then I have to chat with my mentor from Stanford again. I don't know if sociology is really my subject. Chuck wants to study business administration. He's hoping for an athletic scholarship. Maybe I'm up for that too.

Inspiration found @redneckmusclehead

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 07

PREVIOUS

The thing about Nicky knowing that FF knows Russian and therefore understands every single excruciatingly sweet, ear-reddingly spicy, or shockingly mundane thing that Andrew and Neil say to one another is that he is objectively the 3rd worst person to know this secret.

First place is, of course, Andrew Minyard the man who has now asked him about his family 3 times in the last week and a half. FF doesn’t really care if Andrew goes after the majority of his ‘family’ since it’s just his step brothers and step dad but Andrew might go after his Grandma too so he just says “We don’t talk” every time it comes up and deletes his entire chat history with his grandma that way Andrew won’t know how close they are. If that means that Andrew thinks that no one would look for him if he happened to disappear into a shallow grave FF doesn’t know. He’s already doomed so the least he can do is save his gran.

Second place is, of course, Captain Neil. Captain has mentioned quite a few times that a lot of people stay with friends or people they’re close with over Thanksgiving break. It’s meaner than Captain Neil usually would be off of the Court reminding FF that he has friends but none close enough who would want to spend a holiday with him. He plans to go see his Gran for Thanksgiving and she plans to feed him a truly ridiculous amount of food. It’s the same plan he’s had pretty much every year since he was 13.

Third place is Nicky Hemmick. Nicky is a very nice guy who got him a paperboy to hyperventilate into a couple times and would absolutely never intentionally OUT somebody and compromise their safety! Nicky’s talked with FF about some of his background so FF has full confidence that it’s never going to be something that Nicky intentionally outs to anyone. But there are two main reasons why Nicky is the third worst person to find out about this secret.

The first reason is that Nicky Hemmick just unabashedly loves gossip. FF has heard that with the graduation of the girls the previous year had gone Allison Reynolds who had multiple running bets on multiple teammates and a whole cache of gossip. Now Nicky has access to the ultimate accidental gossip magnet in the man who no one notices, who knows any language the Foxes speak and is too awkward to get up and leave when they start talking.

Nicky will never tell another soul his secret but he also HAS to know what Neil and Andrew are saying to one another and when Nicky lies to cover for him the charge is one free conversation translation.

He’s absolutely hooked on getting translations the since the first time he had asked what Andrew and Neil are hissing at one another one morning practice.

FF translated it awkwardly feeling like a creep and like he’s invading their privacy but Nicky had helped him eat the four slavic letter flashcards he had made up to help a friend study the language when Captain Neil and Andrew had come back early from a weekend alone in Columbia.

Nicky had even assured him afterwards that the ink was probably non-toxic and given him floss so he could get the flashcard wedged between his molars out.

So….

“Andrew’s mad that Captain Neil skipped breakfast because they’re working to make him eat something for every meal. Captain Neil’s mad because Andrew’s the one that kept him in bed so long that he didn’t have time to make anything.”

Nicky squeals in delight

The second reason, which is just compounded by the first, is the fact that Nicky had promised not to tell another Soul. However Nicky Hemmick, the romantic that he is, believes that he and his Fiancé Erik share one soul since they are soulmates. Therefore Nicky Hemmic had barely even registered FF’s tears of gratitude before he was calling Erik to tell him about FF.

The sheer number of close calls that have happened because Nicky HAS to tell Erik about something Andrew and Neil said to one another or something someone else is saying is the reason FF started getting ulcers.

Watching Nicky talk to Erik about him knowing Russian is like watching a member of the three stooges walk through a construction site blindfolded. FF nearly kills himself stopping Nicky from outing him numerous times and at the end Nicky’s smiling, unscathed and unaware of the sheer number of close calls he had sauntered through.

FF can’t wait to go home and bury his face in his grandma’s lap, stress eat two apple pies, and tell her about how he thinks he might just become an electrician or a plumber or an underwater welder because one of his language professors wants him to come and speak to a lower level class (a gen-ed with over a hundred people in it) about the usefulness of LATIN for all their majors since they can parse the meaning via root word and he had panicked and said ’Sure’.

***

The thing about being the only person on the team that knows that FF speaks Russian and is riddled with social anxiety is that it’s absolutely hilarious most of the time.

Every once in a while he has to step in to help the guy.

So sometimes he’ll eat flashcards. Sometimes he’ll distract his cousin with a salacious comment so FF can escape a dangerous conversation with his drunk friend. Sometimes he pushes FF to go talk to Abby about his tummy troubles. Sometimes he’ll hand over one of the brown paper bags he keeps in his backpack nowadays so FF can wheeze into it and sometimes he’ll assure his cousin that FF’s passing out after he offered to teach him how to use a knife was probably because of his stomach ulcers not because FF is terrified of Andrew stabbing him.

Nicky is the only member of the Foxes that FF regularly seeks out on his own to hang out with and Nicky just loves how hard Andrew and Neil are trying not to be jealous about it.

“I want to ask Smith if he wants to come spend Thanksgiving Break with us.” Andrew says out of the blue a week before the aforementioned break when it’s just Aaron, Neil, Nicky and himself in Nicky’s dorm room.

Nicky thinks about FF talking about going back to his hometown in Washington State and how he waxed poetic about spending Thanksgiving Break with his Grandma and how he was going to eat his weight in pie and Macaroni and Cheese.

“He’s planning on going and seeing his grandma. He won’t shut up about it.” Nicky says still glad that FF has a family member like his grandma.

Everyone else in the room look at him.

“He won’t shut up about it?” Aaron asks with an eyebrow raised. Aaron likes FF just fine and appreciates how FF has helped Katelyn start to grasp the fundamentals of the German language so quickly so she can understand what’s being said. “So what he said it twice?” He continues.

Nicky remembers FF’s ability for catastrophizing every conversation with the Foxes into one where it comes out that he speaks Russian and Andrew stabs him. As far as the other Foxes are concerned he’s a man of few words.

“He’s been talking about it all month. If I hear about his grandma’s apple pie recipe one more time I might demand he sneak a slice back for me through TSA.” Nicky loves stoking the flames, especially when the fire is harmless. He watches Aaron shrug and the skin around both Neil and Andrew’s mouths tightens. “You can ask him, the worst he can say is No.” Nicky shrugs.

Nicky is there when Andrew does ask him and he can see the prolonged internal scream of terror on the utterly blank face (or maybe he just imagines it.) and in a way Nicky is a little sad when FF shakes his head and says “No, I have plans with my Grandma.” In an utterly blank voice that means he has functionally blue-screened before turning and walking towards the nearest door so he can reboot in solitude.

“The offer stands if you change your mind.” Neil says and Nicky is impressed with the seemingly very casual thumbs up FF gives as he power walks away.

A little less than a week later Nicky finds Andrew next to FF and FF looking down at a cancelled flight notification after coming in from a truly monumental storm.

Andrew offers Thanksgiving in Columbia again.

Nicky tries to stop it from happening he can see that FF is a little lost in his disappointment over not being able to see his grandma and not thinking clearly but before he can snap him out of it.

“Sure.”

NEXT

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242

[preet-01]

*in Oliver Twist voice* may I please have more of the maxiel political au?

You have me obsessed bestie

Of course you can bestie!!! Here is some married Maxiel discussing why Daniel agreed to the arranged marriage set in early 2026. This specific scene won't be in the fic because there's a different version of it with Daniel and Joe that explores their relationship and the weight of the family name.

First Meeting and Iowa Campaign Trail

Max doesn’t dare to say he fully understands Daniel. He understands bits and pieces of him, but not the entirety of him.

It is, of course, very annoying. He likes to know everything.

But he deals with it. Slowly learning about the new parts of Daniel and burrowing it deep in his mind where all of his Daniel facts live.

Like Daniel loves his career, lives for it, but yet he’s willing to give it up and marry Max just when talks of Daniel being a future Attorney General start.

“Why marry me?” Max asks one night. It’s much too late to change anything, they’ve been married for over a year now and everything is gearing up for his presidential run announcement. But Max remains curious about Daniel tying himself to Max and not continuing down the career path that his mother had expected of him.

Grace Ricciardo had been utterly shocked, but still supportive when Daniel introduced Max to them as his fiancé. Joe Ricciardo hadn’t been shocked, no the former governor had almost seemed apologetic to Daniel. So Max really did not understand the Ricciardos as a whole. At least Daniel's sister had just been very straightforward in her threats. Michelle Ricciardo, Max thinks, is the scariest of the four Ricciardos he'd met.

“A little late for that now, Maxy,” Daniel says. His brown eyes are focused on some case file that he’ll probably argue in front of the Supreme Court. Max doesn't understand why Daniel would be willing to leave something he loves so much to be the First Man. He doesn't understand how Daniel would be willing to leave behind arguing constitutional rights and wording at the highest court to just pick china patterns or Christmas decorations. He doesn't understand why Daniel would want to leave a challenging career where he can make a mark on history to just be a footnote in Max's career, a pretty bauble that the American public will look at.

Max’s own work is long forgotten as he takes in Daniel. So focused on what he needs to do despite it being the first day of a long weekend.

"You could be Attorney General," Max continues on. He'd read Sebastian's file on Daniel and done his own research. Daniel was more than qualified, certainly more qualified than the previous five Attorney Generals.

"You're a Senator, Max. Don't be so naive," Daniel retorts.

"How does my job-"

"Have you ever wondered why Seb manages campaigns instead of running his own?" Daniel cuts him off. The file is on the table and forgotten as Daniel turns to look at Max. "Or why Fernando Alonso-Webber has never become President despite his many, many attempts and strong qualifications?"

Max hadn't ever thought of that. He didn't need to...

"The Senate will never approve me for the Attorney General position. Doesn't matter how many cases I argue in front of the Supreme Court or how widely renowned I become as a lawyer," Daniel sighs. "We're not as progressive in this country as you may want. The Senate is not going to elect a male carrier as the Attorney General. And the majority of the country is not going to elect a carrier as President. Hell, only three carriers, male and female, have gotten the party nom. Just because I can birth a baby, they'll say that I'm not competent enough. That I won't be able to focus on the job, that I won't be tough when needed."

"Things aren't like they used to be," Max tries to argue, but he knows the numbers of carriers are low in both chambers of Congress, even fewer in the Cabinet despite President Hamilton's many attempts at changing it.

"I came to terms with it a long time ago, Maxy, just like Seb did. And there's more to being the First Man than just china patterns and looking pretty. Though I will excel at those," Daniel tells him.

"It shouldn't be like that," he states. It's wrong how in the past the country remains. His chances of winning were low due to being unmarried, and Daniel's chances of going further in his career were even lower due to being a carrier. His ability to birth children shouldn't impact his career.

"It won't be like this forever, eventually things will change. And I hope that it happens during your presidency," Daniel says. There's a sparkle in his brown eyes that hadn't been there before.

"I'm not elected yet, and might not ever be." Max knows that so far they've gone about things with the assumption that come November 2028, Max would be President-Elect. But things don't always pan out and there is a good chance that Max won't win.

"I wouldn't have married you, Maxy, if I had any doubts about your chances at the Presidency."

He doesn't understand all of Daniel, but he does understand bits and pieces and he's willing to learn every little idiosyncrasy that makes up Daniel.

___

I am loving all the discussion about this au and writing this has been so much fun!!!!

[lifeofpriya]

from the youre blushing list ““You’re blushing.” “So are you.”” For jannik weekend. pls! Ur writing is so good and im so excited for a jan weekend bc i am lacking in content 😭

i had an itch to write a cute fic that involved a bookstore and i gave in 😩 ughhh, when can this happen to me too 😭

A Fumbling Confession

wc: 3.4k

You're standing in line at the local coffee shop, the aroma of freshly ground beans wrapping around you like a warm blanket. The barista calls out a name you don't recognize. You check your watch. Five minutes until your shift starts at the nearby bookstore. You're about to leave when the door swings open, letting in a gust of cold air and a familiar figure—Jannik Sinner.

Jannik is a regular, always ordering the same drink: a double shot of espresso with a splash of almond milk. His curly ginger hair is tucked under a blue beanie, and he's wearing a vintage sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed up to reveal lean but muscular forearms.

You feel a jolt of excitement and nerves in your stomach. You've had a crush on him for months, but the opportunity to talk beyond exchanging pleasantries has never arisen. You consider saying hello, but the words stick to the roof of your mouth like sugar to a toddler's fingers.

As Jannik approaches the counter, his eyes scan the room, landing on you for a brief moment. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, a gesture so subtle it's almost imperceptible. Is it possible he recognizes you? The thought sends a wave of heat up your neck. You quickly look down, pretending to rummage through your bag for something to avoid eye contact, your heart hammering against your ribs.

The barista calls out your order, snapping you out of your trance. You step forward, reaching for your wallet, when you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. You turn to find Jannik holding out a steaming cup of coffee. "I got this," he says, his voice deep and comforting, the Italian accent rolling off his tongue like a melody.

Surprise lights up your eyes as you take the cup from him. "Thank you," you murmur, feeling the warmth of the ceramic mug seep into your palms. He nods, his smile widening. "It's the least I could do. You always seem to be in a rush when I come in here."

The barista glances between you both, a knowing look in their eyes. "You two are adorable," they say, winking before turning to prepare Jannik's drink.

You blush furiously, heat prickling across your cheeks. "I'm sorry, I just… I've never had anyone buy me anything before," you admit, taking a tentative sip of your preferred hot beverage.

Jannik chuckles, the sound resonating through the small space. "Well, I figured you could use a little pick-me-up before work." He leans against the counter, his gaze lingering on you. "So, what do you do?"

You swallow the lump in your throat. "I work at the bookstore down the street. I've seen you there a few times," you reply, hoping he doesn't notice the tremor in your voice.

Jannik's eyes widen slightly. "Really? I guess I should pay more attention to the people around me." He takes a sip of his espresso, the sound of the liquid hitting the porcelain cup echoing in the otherwise quiet shop. "I usually just get lost in the sports section."

The conversation flows naturally from there, a tapestry of shared interests and laughter. You learn that Jannik's love for books is just as intense as his passion for tennis. He talks about his favorite authors and the way specific stories have inspired him on and off the court. You share your favorite genres and the feeling of escaping into a good book after a long day.

As you both sip your drinks, you notice the time slipping away. The nerves in your stomach have transformed into a comforting buzz of excitement. You glance at the clock, realizing you're about to be late for your shift. "Thank you so much for the drink, but I really need to go," you say, the regret clear in your tone.

Jannik nods, his expression understanding. "No problem. Maybe we can do this again sometime?" His question hangs in the air, hopeful.

You feel your heart skip a beat. "Yeah, I'd like that," you reply, trying to sound casual despite the rush of emotions. He nods again, and you take a deep breath, mustering the courage to ask. "Do you want to come by the bookstore later? Maybe we can talk more?"

Jannik's smile reaches his eyes. "I'd love to," he says. "How about after my training session?" He glances at the clock behind the counter. "That's in a few hours. Does that work for you?"

You nod, trying to keep your cool. "Yeah, that's perfect."

The barista sets Jannik's drink on the counter, and he takes it with a grateful nod. "See you later," he says, and with a wave, he's out the door, leaving you with a coffee and a racing heart.

You down the rest of your drink, the warmth of the drink jolting you into action. You arrive at the bookstore just in time, the bell chiming as you enter. Your manager, Mrs. Higgins, gives you a knowing look. She's seen you like this before—flustered and a bit love-struck. She winks at you before turning her attention to a customer.

The hours tick by as you organize the shelves, your thoughts a whirlwind of anticipation. The bookstore is a second home to you, filled with the quiet whispers of pages turning and the occasional chime of the door. But today, it feels like a stage, every book a silent audience to the drama of your unspoken love.

As the clock approaches the time Jannik said he'd come by, you straighten your shirt, smoothing out any wrinkles. You pretend to be busy, but you can't help glancing at the door every few minutes. The bell jingles, and your heart skips a beat. But it's just a regular customer looking for the latest mystery novel.

Finally, the moment arrives. The door swings open, and there he is, his ginger curls peeking out from under the same blue beanie, his sweatshirt replaced with a fitted polo shirt that accentuates his athletic build. He looks around, and when his eyes meet yours, they light up with the same warmth as earlier. You feel a smile spread across your face, unbidden.

"Hey," Jannik says, approaching the counter. His cheeks are flushed from the cold outside, and his hands are slightly trembling from the chill. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

You shake your head, the books you were pretending to organize momentarily forgotten. "No, not at all. What can I help you with?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jannik steps closer, his gaze dropping to the name tag pinned to your shirt. "Just looking for some company," he says, a hint of mischief in his voice. "But I do need a book recommendation. Something to read on my off days, when I'm not breaking a sweat on the court."

You feel your cheeks warm at his words, and you try to play it cool. "Ah, I've got just the thing." You lead him through the aisles, discussing different authors and their works as you go. His eyes light up with every new title you suggest, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride in sharing your literary world with him.

As you reach the back of the store, you notice Mrs. Higgins watching you from the corner, a knowing smile on her face. She's always had a knack for spotting budding romances. You roll your eyes playfully and turn your attention back to Jannik, who's now engrossed in a novel you've been meaning to read.

"What's this one about?" he asks, holding up a book with a mysterious cover.

You lean over the counter, your hands resting on the cool surface. "It's a psychological thriller," you explain, "about a woman who discovers her entire life is a lie."

Jannik nods thoughtfully, his thumb tracing the spine of the book. "Sounds intense." He looks up, his eyes meeting yours. "But I like a good challenge."

You smile, feeling your heart race as you hand him the book. "I think you'll love it," you say, your voice slightly breathless. You can't help but wonder if he's referring to the book or the connection between you.

Jannik takes the book, his fingertips brushing against yours for a brief moment, sending an electric current up your arm. "Thank you," he says, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'll have to read it and let you know what I think."

The tension in the air is palpable, and you're acutely aware of every inch that separates you. You both stand there, unsure of what to say next, when a loud thud echoes through the store. You jump, startled, and Jannik laughs. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he says, holding up the book that slipped from his grasp.

You look down to see the book lying open on the floor, pages fluttering as if trying to tell a secret. You both lean down to pick it up, your hands colliding in a clumsy dance. You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within you, a sound you haven't heard in a while.

As you stand, the book still between your fingers, your eyes meet Jannik's. For a moment, the world seems to hold its breath.

"You're blushing." Jannik's voice is soft, teasing. You can feel the heat in your cheeks, and you know you're blushing harder than ever before. You look down, avoiding his gaze, your eyes catching the title of the book you're both holding.

"So are you." You reply, trying to sound nonchalant as you realize the truth in his words. You look up to find him studying you, his gaze intense. The silence stretches out between you, filled with the unspoken words you both want to say.

"I have to admit," Jannik says, his voice barely above a whisper, "I've had a bit of a crush on you for a while." The confession sends a rush of excitement through you, like a wildfire spreading from your chest to your fingertips. You look up at him, your eyes searching for any sign of insincerity. But all you find is honesty and vulnerability.

You open your mouth to respond, but the words get stuck in your throat. Instead, you just nod, unable to form coherent sentences. The book, now forgotten, lies between your palms, a silent witness to the moment unfolding.

Jannik's hand covers yours, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin. "I know this is probably a bad time and place, but I couldn't hold it in anymore," he says, his voice earnest. "I see the way you look at me, and I just had to tell you."

You nod again, your throat tight with a mix of emotions. "I…I've had a crush on you too," you finally manage to say. The words hang in the air, weightless yet heavy with meaning. Jannik's smile widens, and you feel your heart soar.

He gently takes the book from your grasp and sets it aside. "I've been hoping you felt the same way," he admits, his eyes searching yours. You can see the hope in them, the anticipation. "Every time I come into this store, I think about talking to you, getting to know you better."

You bite your bottom lip, trying to contain the smile threatening to split your face in two. "Really?"

Jannik nods, his thumb brushing the back of your hand. "Really."

The silence between you is now filled with the sweet anticipation of confessions long held back. You take a deep breath, feeling as though you're about to dive into the deep end of a pool. "Well, now that we've got that out of the way," you begin, "what do we do now?"

Jannik's smile turns into a grin. "How about dinner?" he suggests, his thumb still lightly caressing your hand. "I know a great place nearby that serves the best lasagna you've ever had."

The idea of dinner with Jannik sends a thrill through your body. "I'd love that," you say, trying to keep the excitement from overwhelming you.

He squeezes your hand gently, his eyes filled with relief and excitement. "Great," he says, the warmth of his palm sending shivers up your spine. "How about tomorrow night?"

You nod eagerly, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. "Tomorrow night is perfect," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jannik's grip on your hand tightens slightly. "It's a date, then," he says, his eyes sparkling. "I'll pick you up after your shift. Does that work for you?"

You nod, your stomach flipping at the thought of an actual date with the person you've been secretly pining for. "Yes, that's perfect." The rest of the afternoon at the bookstore feels like it's moving in slow motion as you both try to contain your excitement. The customers come and go, but your eyes keep straying back to Jannik, who's lost in a book a few aisles over, occasionally glancing up to catch your gaze.

Mrs. Higgins clears her throat, breaking the spell. "You know, you two could just go on your date now if you want," she says with a knowing smile. "I can manage the store for the last hour."

You glance at the clock. It's already closing time. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. You've been so lost in your conversation with Jannik that you didn't even notice. "Really?" you ask, hopeful.

Mrs. Higgins nods, her eyes twinkling. "Go on. Have fun. I'll handle the closing."

Jannik looks up from his book, his expression a mix of surprise and delight. "Are you sure?" he asks, his gaze flicking between you and Mrs. Higgins.

"Yes, go," she insists, waving you off with a laugh. "You've earned it, and I'd love to see that smile on your face more often."

You exchange a look with Jannik, and in that moment, the unspoken tension between you snaps like a tightly drawn bow. Without another word, you both grab your coats and step out into the crisp evening air, the streetlights casting a warm glow on the cobblestone street.

Walking side by side, you feel a buzz of excitement that's been missing for so long. You can't help but steal glances at him, his profile sharp and defined in the fading light. You've imagined this moment countless times, but the reality is so much more than you ever dared to hope for.

Jannik notices your gaze and looks over at you, his cheeks flushing slightly. "What is it?" he asks, a smile playing on his lips.

You look away, feeling your own cheeks warm. "Nothing," you reply, a little too quickly. "I just… I'm happy, I guess."

Jannik laughs, a sound that sends your heart into a delightful flutter. "Me too," he says, his eyes shining. "I've been thinking about asking you out for ages, but I was afraid you wouldn't feel the same way."

You look up at him, feeling a rush of affection. "I've had the same fear," you admit. "But I'm so glad you did."

Jannik slides his hand into yours, and the simple gesture feels like the most natural thing in the world. Your heart skips a beat as your fingers interlock, his hand warm and strong. The cool evening air is a stark contrast to the warmth that spreads through you.

You walk down the cobblestone street, the sound of your footsteps echoing off the ancient buildings that line the way. The town is quiet, almost as if it's holding its breath, giving you two the space to share this moment in peace. You feel a giddiness bubbling up inside you, a feeling you thought was reserved for characters in the romance novels you secretly devour.

As you turn the corner, Jannik points out a small Italian restaurant, its windows steaming with the scent of garlic and tomato sauce. "This is the place," he says, his voice filled with excitement. The anticipation of the evening ahead has made you both hungry, and the thought of sharing a meal with him fills you with a warmth that has nothing to do with the food.

Inside, the restaurant is cozy, the walls adorned with family photos and vintage tennis memorabilia. The owner, a plump man with a thick mustache, greets Jannik like an old friend. "Jannik! Bene, bene!" he exclaims, enveloping him in a bear hug.

You stand aside, watching the interaction with a smile, feeling a swell of affection for this place that clearly holds a special place in Jannik's heart. The owner releases him and turns to you, his eyes twinkling. "And who is this lucky person you've brought with you?" he asks, his Italian accent thick and welcoming.

Jannik slides his hand around your waist, pulling you closer. "This is…" He pauses, looking at you for permission to reveal your relationship status. You nod, your cheeks still flushed from the confession at the bookstore. "This is my date," he says, pride and happiness resonating in his voice.

The owner's eyes widen in surprise before a broad smile stretches across his face. "Ah, a date!" He winks at you. "I'll give you the best table in the house." He leads you to a cozy corner booth, the candlelight flickering across the red-and-white checkered tablecloth. You sit down, your hands shaking slightly as you try to process the reality of what's happening.

The menu is a delightful assault on your senses, filled with dishes that sound like poetry and smell like home. You look up to find Jannik watching you, his gaze warm and affectionate. "I know it's a lot to choose from, but I promise, everything here is amazing," he says, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand.

You can't help but feel self-conscious under his scrutiny. "How do you decide?" you ask, your voice a little too high.

Jannik chuckles, the sound rich and deep. "It's easy," he says, leaning in closer. "You just have to trust your gut." He pauses, his eyes searching yours.

Your stomach flips, and you nod, trying to focus on the menu instead of the heat of his hand on yours. You decide on the lasagna, unable to resist the allure of the homemade pasta and the promise of a secret family recipe. Jannik orders the same, and the owner nods approvingly before disappearing into the kitchen.

The restaurant is a whirlwind of activity around you, but you're in a bubble; the only things that matter are the flicker of the candle between you and the sound of Jannik's voice. You talk about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing as easily as the wine he ordered. You learn about his love for the mountains, where he grew up, and how he finds peace there when the world of professional tennis gets too hectic.

As the plates of lasagna are set before you, you realize how much you've missed this: the simple act of sharing a meal with someone who gets you, who makes you feel seen. You take a bite, the cheese stretching like a warm embrace, the sauce a symphony of flavors that dance on your tongue. "This is incredible," you murmur, your eyes meeting Jannik's.

He smiles, pleased. "It's his nonna's recipe," he says, nodding to the owner. "A family secret."

You laugh, the sound light and airy. "It's definitely worth keeping," you say, taking another bite. The conversation ebbs and flows, the silence between you now a comfortable one filled with the promise of more to come.

As you both clean your plates, Jannik reaches across the table, taking your hand again. "There's something I need to tell you," he says, his voice serious. You look up, your heart racing. "I've never felt this way about someone before. It's like…like I've been playing on easy mode, and now the game has changed."

You swallow the last bite, the warmth of the lasagna forgotten. "What do you mean?"

Jannik takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I mean, you're…you're different. You make me feel things I've never felt before, and it's a bit overwhelming." He squeezes your hand gently. "But in the best way possible."

You smile, feeling your cheeks warm. "I know what you mean," you admit. "It's like I've been reading the same book over and over, and suddenly there's this new one that's got me hooked, you know?"

Jannik's eyes light up, understanding dawning on his face. "Exactly," he says, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "It's like finding a new author whose words just…resonate."

You nod, feeling a thrill run through you at his metaphor. "Yeah, like their words are just for you."

Jannik's smile turns into a grin. "Exactly." He takes a sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving yours. "So, what do you say we write our own story together?"

[undercoverdonderwolk]

like i know the realities of IRL athlete friendships etc etc and this is coming from a purely RPF goggles lens to hurt my own feelings, but would LOVE to hear your thoughts on the RPF bedtime story i've been pondering since singapore: so if low level employees knew about daniel that long....like max definitely did (and seemingly lando but we'll ignore that for now)...i've just been thinking of how much time max and daniel spent together leading up to singapore sunday and daniel wasn't told anything til Saturday night, like (again in a for fun only rpf perspective before i piss off any anons thinking i'm slagging max lol) looking back it'd be hard not to feel at least a teensy bit humiliated if i were daniel? like looking back on convos and jokes knowing the other person KNEW this thing you didn't etc. like even if you know something intellectually (couldn't tell you because of xyz reasons) emotionally I think it'd be normal to be a little hurt and embarrassed? but despite all of this the fact that after finding out daniel still went on his max tribute tour between his press pen nervy b's....insane to me insane!! the only exception for real. i'd kill to know how it all went down emotionally. but also in an angsty way, wonder what he thinks about the max of it all now and if he's distancing himself from him too.

no like i think about this all the time. genuinely not a day goes by where i do not think about this, to the point where i spent a good chunk of a nine hour drive to prague to see the new jersey devils play, talking at my bf about this. of all the other things that i would want to know more about that happened that weekend, nothing has a hold on me more than the way max was saying unprompted 'if this is daniel's last race...' as early as thursday and at the same time as daniel was telling people in the media pen that he was confident he'd be on the grid next year. how did he know before daniel and then why did he seemingly not tell him that it really was over this time around? even just the way he was fanning the flames by bringing up the last race rumors when he hadn't even been asked about it? hard to forgive to me lmao. like clearly he was trying to do right by daniel but in a way he only made it much harder for daniel by giving that narrative legitimacy from the moment race weekend started... it's the one thing that is so frustrating not to understand because the way i would never ever talk to people who did that to me again lmao. i'd feel humiliated and so so embarrassed... a dead man walking and everyone you're on that padel court with knows! i'm literally the tiktok meme like 'when i've died but someone tells me what went down between max and daniel during and after singapore weekend'... and also the way only max was asked about daniel in the post race press. all those people he was close to and not even his current teammate was asked. did everyone know that max knew? even the press people? GOD WHAT HAPPENED

[morlao]

Headcanons: Friends to Lovers

Daiki Aomine x reader

- You and Aomine have known each other since you were little kids. Your moms are best friends, so you two basically grew up together and as a result you started to get pretty close. Not a day goes by where you don't hear from each other and you have sleepovers almost every weekend.

- When the two of you were younger you spent almost every afternoon on the basketball court. You sat on a bench and enjoyed the warm weather while Aomine showed you his tricks. He always made sure you watched his each and every move.

"Watch this y/n!"

"Did you see that?"

"There is a new trick I want to show you!"

He always got so excited when he saw how impressed you were. Of course you tried to play it cool, but he could read you like an open book.

- One time you asked him to teach you how to play.

"That's super easy, just watch this!"

And he dribbles you out and doesn't even give you a chance to score once. Maybe basketball wasn't exactly your thing (especially with Aomine as a teacher).

- Aomine is not exactly good with words. Whenever you feel sad he doesn't know what to say and when he tries to cheer you up, he often comes off as grumpy or annoyed. But he still wants to be there for you and comfort you. Therefore he will rely on physical contact instead. A long lasting hug, stroking your hair, lying down next to you and cuddling until you fall asleep.

- As you grow older you often go shopping together. Most of the time Aomine will complain about how long it takes you to choose the perfect skirt or the perfect dress, but he secretely loves how you always ask him for his opinion whenever you try something on.

"What do you say, Dai? The red shirt or the white one?"

- Of course you still visit his basketball games but you don't hang out at the basketball court anymore during the week. After all Aomine thinks he doesn't need practise anymore. His famous words "the only one who can beat me is me" is the only answer you get when you ask him if he planned to skip training again. And yes, each and every time you want to punch him in the face for that. At the same time, however, it breaks your heart to see that his passion for basketball is gone. He always seems bored, tired of it even. It has been a very long time since you last saw him smile while playing. You miss this happy version of him.

- There is something about Daiki Aomine, you definitely can't deny it. The way he smiles (he does smile a lot around you), the way he always seems so relaxed. You like joining him at his naps on the roof and resting your head in his lap while he grumbles something you can't understand. Every touch (no matter how small it is) makes your heart flutter. You try to ignore it though, thinking he would never see you as more than a friend.

- While you never told Aomine about your little crush on him, you do tell him about your crushes on other boys. He's your best friend, so of course this is something you want to talk about. Aomine often teases you about it, as he loves seeing you blush and cover your face with your hands. Lately, however, he cramps every time you rave about another boy. He also finds himself glaring at the boys you fancy during his classes while wondering what the hell you saw in them. He's absolutely not good at hiding his jealousy so he will be grumpy the whole day. Of course he doesn't tell you the reason for his behaviour but starts to distance himself instead.

"It's nothing, y/n, stop bothering me!"

His behaviour really starts to upset you lately. Why was he acting so different? Did you say something wrong? You start to keep a comfortable distance. You're used to Aomine's mood, but this is the first time he also starts acting bitchy towards you.

- So the next time you have a crush on someone, you don't tell him. Instead you start hanging out with this boy more often and you two really get along very well.

- Of course it doesn't take long until Aomine hears about it. Y/n hanging out with another boy? Jealousy starts burning inside of him and even though he knows exactly that it's none of his business who you're meeting, he can't switch it off. With his hands clenched into fists he stomps through the streets, not caring if he bumps into someone.

- When he finally finds you in your favourite cafè, drinking your favourite drink and laughing about something this boy had said, he can't take it anymore. He storms over, grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet and away from that boy. Of course you are more than upset about this and soon the two of you start screaming at each other.

"Who the fuck is that?"

"Why do you care, Daiki?"

- A very good question that he has already asked himself several times. You were his best friend, the one person who knew him better than everyone else, the one who always supported him and accepted him. The one who always forgave him whenever he said something rude or acted like a total idiot (which happened very often). Of course he also thought you were beautiful. Even hot. Why didn't he want you to flirt with someone else? The answer popped up in his head all of a sudden. Maybe he knew it all along. He loved you. He fucking loved you.

- Again, Aomine isn't good with words so he doesn't know what he should answer you. Instead he just pulls you towards him and kisses you. A deep and passionate kiss, filled with everything he wanted to say. After a few seconds he breaks free, breathing heavily.

"I want you to be with me."

- You're absolutely shocked. Yes, you have dreamt about kissing him several times, but you have never thought it would actually happen. You didn't even think he likes you like that.

"Didn't think I would ever see you speechless", he smirks.

That stupid smirk that always makes your heart melt.

"You can't just ignore me for days and then crash my date and kiss me."

Your eyes search for your date but the boy' s seat is empty. You didn't notice him leaving. Aomine's gaze still rests on you.

"Didn't I just show you I can?"

You roll your eyes and Aomine finally sighs, scratching the back of his head. He is nervous, yes, and he can no longer hide it from you.

"I love you, y/n. I guess I always have. Give me a chance to proof to you that we're the perfect match."

His words make your heart flutter while at the same time you know exactly that it's up to you to decide.

"Dai..."

You look in his eyes and see panic. Quickly you take his hand.

"You're an absolute idiot! But you're my idiot! Come here."

You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in for another kiss.

[jadegmfu]

tutor me — ASBF!Anakin x Reader.

I had this in drafts, but i really don't know if i should continue it. this is an unfinished work by the way.

CW; fluff, light angst..??

im tagging u here cuz you've been waiting for this one, ily @mortalheartache

3rd year highschool — 5 years ago.

both you and anakin, were nemesis' always having banters, playful insults, sarcastic comments until.. both of you got tired of it.

meanwhile anakin well, he wanted to court you. but first he wanted to be your friend, you'd see him in your band practices, he'd sit with you by recess and lunch, he'd accompany you while walking home

oh he started asking you what you liked and what are the things you liked to do, it was sweet how the cute nerdy ex nemesis-ish (you could say both of you are frenemies) of yours is trying to get to nnow you as a friend atleast that's what you thought, hmm?

and then one day, he asked “may i court you?” you were pretty surprised of his question and how long it'd take you to say

yes to being his girlfriend, you finally answered him “you may” with a smile on your lips.

he took things slowly, for your sake. he didn't want you to feel overwhelmed, he started going to your gigs, spending every minute with you, no inappropriate touches of course. just holding hands.. hugs, waist hugs, etc. that's the rule he's trying to follow, but he does give you words of affirmation, quality time, small gifts, even bought you a beautiful necklace.

he was courting you for 9 months, until you finally said “yes— yes i wanna be your girlfriend” you answered him when he asked “so.. are you ready now?”

back to the present. (2nd year college)

he barely had time for you now, but he still loved you.

at weekends he'd spend his whole two days with you, that is if he's done doing his project

oh he loved showing you his creations, he loved seeing your eyes light up in fascination.

you've got an attractive boyfriend that every girl in the campus wants to date him, oh they envy you for that. you've watched a few girls ask him out, seeing all of them walk away in disappointment, you've heard what he said to one girl before, “hard pass, i have goals, studies and most importantly my girlfriend to focus on.”

what he said made your day, oh it made you very happy.

later on the day, your math teacher had recently told you about your grades,

you had a failing mark, and of course you'll do anything to pass. so you went your boyfriend.

"What?" Anakin says that at the same time he stops typing on his laptop, turning his gaze from the screen to you, scrunching his eyes a little bit. You're interrupting his free period and his peace, and he doesn't appreciate that. 

"You want me to tutor you?" He seems surprised and reluctant, skeptical about your request.

"yes! i mean.. do you wanna? i understand if you don't want to tutor me." you replied, looking down. you don't really like how he's being skeptical and reluctant right now.

[bottlecap-joe-spooky]

How bad is the extent of Miles Edgeworth's mental state in rise from the ashes?

Tw: suicide, implied self harm

Obviously he ends up essentially leaving a suicide note of "prosecutor edgeworth chooses death", but that could be symbolic. He HAD already quit his job (one of the only things that had held his life together possibly since his father died) so him as Prosecutor edgeworth had essentially "died".

There's also the ambiguous definition of "dying" in the note. Did he mean it as in he would not be coming back (from death or to prosecution or to japanifornia or whatever) or as he would never come back as the same person (the "demon" prosecutor) or just to fake his own death for a little moral/mental break or whatever (everyone's allowed a little gay panic break every once in a while).

Who knows, and I genuinely love the ambiguity the game leaves.

Obviously, phoenix takes it as a serious suicide note, and is obviously absolutely wrecked by it for the next year. This is a topic often touched upon in fanfiction, though not in the game quite as much. Obviously it is hard to talk about mental health issues in a lawyer game, and they do it really well for a game not technically focused on it and from the early 2000s. Specifically for Maya and Edgeworth I think, as they both have loads of trauma that they deal with in fully different ways. Miles is more worrying though, as most of his coping skills are absolutely horrible, he has very little emotional support, and he's been pretty messed up in the head.

I honestly wonder a lot which people and relationships are meant to mirror the main characters, like phoenix saying shit like "that's so romantic- he saved you- I guess I'd fall in love too-" for the Delite's love story or edgeworth saying Adrian andrews codependent situation is very similar to how Franziska operates with her father or definitely Lana and ema reminding Phoenix of Mia and Maya or him literally telling Adrian andrews to kill herself in court. Specifically that last one. He specifically phrases it as "if you're going to say you would 'choose death', that is of no concern to me."

There is some especially worrying evidence in rise from the ashes, when he was at the most mentally unstable he's ever been. The only time that would compare was when his dad died when he was 8, but even then he had a new foster family to rely on (more or less). He's at his very worse, because, after 15 or so years, all of his past has just been dredged up and solved (by "that man" no less. Also, side note, does he only start saying Phoenix "saved him" after he came back from the dead?)

I really don't like any implications of why edgeworth would have traces of blood on the ground, especially at this point in his life.

So the options here are 1) it's someone else's blood, and maybe he fucking slapped someone so hard they bled or 2) it's his blood on his office floor for whatever reason. Neither imply anything remotely good for his mental state.

At this point it really could just be coincidence and ema is right or whatever. It's an easily missed peice, completely unrelated to the case and just an interesting tidbit for lore maybe. But sadly I found more evidence to support that that is not indeed the case.

I can't remember what the plot point for edgeworth's knife besides the fact that he had it in the car for Lana to find.

Mmm yeah ema. What is that little fruit doing with a knife? Very low chance that gay man knows self defense tbh.

Ema goes on to suggest he spends weekends "roughing it in the wild" and Phoenix basically laughs in her face (does this girl not understand what a homosexual man he is) as Edgeworth has probably never been in "the wild" a day in his life.

This doesn't feel like a coincidence anymore. There is cleaned up blood on his floor, enough for a nosebleed, and there is a knife in his car. One which he would probably never actually use on another person. This and then added to the fact that he had just quit his job and "died" shortly after. it's pretty obvious he is doing worse than even what he says, as he actually is kind of open about how he is doing throughout the games. Obviously he's always trying to hide his feelings (which Phoenix always sees right through), but during the case he does mostly explain to them exactly what is happening. Not that they do or even can help.

His entire career was based around punishing himself for something he didn't actually do. There is no way he isn't harbouring a lot of self loathing, and it's hinted at throughout the games (again, hard to touch on in a lawyer game). This game is so hard to tell what the writers originally meant, both beacause of it being looked at through translations and it being written in the 2000s (like how fruity they 'accidentally' made them in the first game lol) so that's not an angle I can look at this from.

So, to recap, he

had all his past dredged up, obviously very painful

he is open about talking about it, but doesn't show the true extent of how it effects him

has a knife in his car that no one has any real theories on why he has it (and the blood)

There is traces of blood on his office floor

he has spent his entire life punishing himself, and then can't forgive himself for it

he then chooses death

when he comes back, he repeatedly projects onto Adrian Andrews

No wonder he's always saying Phoenix "saved him" he sure needed a bit of saving.

This poor, poor man. His story arc is so beautiful to me.

[middenway]

The colour of Turning Red – Part 1

Turning Red is among my favourite Pixar films. This weekend I finally got to see it on the big screen and I just want to talk about something I really love about it—the way it uses colour to communicate its story. The key colours to watch are red, pink, and teal. Red is the colour of the panda, the unrestrained self. Pink is a muted version of this, a lightly curated version of the self, and teal is the restrained version of the self. This is how Meilin is introduced, all in pink; she's comfortable with who she is, but there's still a level of curation.

Did I say all in pink? Not quite. There is conspicuously a teal hairclip restraining her hair. And that's very important, because the hair is very important in this film too... but we'll get to that later.

Very early on, the film starts to establish teal as a kind of "responsible" colour, with Mei bragging about being practically an adult as she boards the bus, which is predominantly teal, and then she sits down to do her homework.

Note how in that second image how the bus's seats are pink, but all of them are up or hidden in shadow except for Mei's. She a hotspot in the centre. Also note that her homework book is teal.

At the opening title, Mei's by herself and unrestrained, so obviously the lighting is pink.

When Mei arrives at school, the overall palette is teal, but with pops of colour. This is a place where she has to curate her identity a bit, but there's still room to be a freer version of herself.

And here are her colourful friends, Miriam (green), budding goth Priya (yellow), and Abby (purple).

You'll note that Miriam is green, very close to teal, but distinct from it. There's a good reason for that and it speaks to her relationship with Mei. She's Mei's best friend, but she curates herself for her. After all, she thinks Mei's a little brainwashed, but she wouldn't say that to her face.

And then there's Tyler, coded purple, which is not traditionally a masculine colour, a hint about the self that he's hiding from everyone, and why he's jealous of someone like Mei who can be a fuller version of herself. Note that the basketball court, the space most associated with him at the school, is also heavily defined by teal.

OK, on to the flute scene!

This is the scene where I fell totally in love with Turning Red. The energy here is fantastic. Note how saturated Mei's pinks are here. They are so close to red.

Here's Mei leaving school...

...notice how pink begins to dominate the palette more. She's freer here, more herself when she's alone with her friends. Now's a good time to point out the gentle pastel lighting in Turning Red. It's a comforting look, and the contrast gets ramped up in moments of heightened emotion.

When we get to the Daisy Mart, we see Devon. This character is a budding story element, so the interior is teal, because it's a place where Mei would curate herself more, but we get pops of pink on Devon, a hint at how this character is going to evolve in Mei's eyes. (But mostly this location is coloured teal because of the role it plays later.)

OK, this is off topic, but I love this face.

4*Town fantasies are obviously very pink and very saturated for obvious reasons. Fun fact: Domee Shi calls this scene "Man Mountain" (from the director's commentary).

Another aside, but I love the way Miriam, Priya , and Abby often move as a unit. Each has their own distinct visually identity and quality of movement, but in most scenes they function almost like a single character, expressing slight variations on a central emotion.

How could anyone not love the lighting choices when Mei is presented with the 4*Town's '99 Australian Tour CD?

Now we get to the panda temple, and I love this because it's a combination of red and teal. It's important to understand that teal is not a bad colour in Turning Red. It is a perfectly valid way to express yourself, but it's not right for everyone.

The temple also is a space where Mei is curating herself for her mother and visitors to the temple, but in she can also let other aspects of herself come out, and we see that in the way she has fun with her mum while sweeping. It's a really cute way to express this duality.

Note the mirrored colours in Mei and Ming. Mei is all pink with a hairpin that's teal, while her mother is all teal with a red pendant... That red pendant is a really big part of Ming, but we'll go into that later. (Also, I love the round shapes of Mei against the sharper lines of Ming.)

Now we go to Ming's home, which is a mix of teals and pinks, but it's mostly white. This means that it takes on the colour of the lighting, so that in different scenes this space serves different functions. Jin, Mei's father, is likewise predominantly white, reflecting his mild character and role as a neutral party.

Then we have Mei in her bedroom doing her homework. Note that this is her room and yet it is almost completely teal. There as just a few spots of pink, like the heart, the discman (which is playing 4*Town music). This is an environment where she's the ideal good kid doing her homework.

This is also a good time to note the relationship between the music and the colour, because all the self-expression here comes out in how her movement is defined in relation to the music. But she's wearing headphones. This aspect of herself is internalised.

The animation in this shot was the best animation I saw in 2022. The little jaw movement from Mei before she says "fine" is so great. You can see the competing versions of self as confronts a side to her that's unfamiliar and intense.

Notice the shift in the lighting here. Warm lighting coming up from the page. It makes no sense literally; it's completely subjective lighting.

And I'm bumping up against the image limit, so to be continued in Part 2.