#whoa i wonder who drew that

[pucksandpower]

Oscat

shifter!Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: when you see an adorable stray black cat hanging around your neighborhood, you can’t resist taking him in … but there’s just one problem, the cat’s not actually a cat

Oscar Piastri never thought his life would come to this — crouched under a battered kitchen chair in a cramped university flat, ears flattened against his skull, tail twitching nervously as he watches you fumble with a small red collar.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” you coo, your voice soft and coaxing. You wiggle your fingers, the sound of the collar's bell jingling faintly as you shake it. “I promise you’ll look so cute in this.”

Oscar can’t believe he’s let it get this far. One moment, he’s wandering the neighborhood as a cat, enjoying the freedom that comes with paws instead of feet, and the next — this. A crazy girl who somehow managed to corral him into her apartment and is now intent on … he doesn’t even know what. But he knows it’s not good. He considers bolting, but you’re blocking the only exit, and he isn’t sure he has it in him to leap past you without causing a scene.

“C’mon, I know you like the tuna,” you say, holding up a plate with some leftover fish you’d put out for him earlier. “Just let me get this on you, and I’ll give you more, okay?”

He narrows his eyes, inching back under the chair. This whole situation is ridiculous, and he’s thoroughly regretting his decision to stick around after the first time you fed him. But there was something about you that drew him in — a warmth, maybe, or just the sheer determination with which you tried to get him to trust you.

But now you’ve crossed a line.

You sigh, clearly frustrated, and sit back on your heels. “Why are you being so difficult?” you murmur, more to yourself than to him. “I just want to make sure you’re safe, you know? What if you get lost or hurt? You need a collar, at least …”

Oscar’s ears perk up at the concern in your voice, and he feels a pang of guilt. You don’t know what you’re doing — how could you? To you, he’s just a stray cat, not a twenty-three-year-old Formula 1 driver with a secret he can’t afford to let anyone find out. He’s supposed to be smart, calculated, always one step ahead. Not cowering under a chair because a university student wants to play house with him.

You huff and toss the collar onto the table with a clatter. “Fine,” you say, standing up and crossing your arms. “I’ll leave you alone for now, but you’re not getting any more tuna unless you let me put that on you.”

Oscar’s stomach growls, and he curses his weakness. The tuna had been good — too good, if he’s being honest. He watches as you turn away, heading into another room. This is his chance. He could make a break for it, slip out the door before you even realize what’s happening.

But he hesitates.

Why? He wonders, paws shifting restlessly. This isn’t like him. He should be gone by now, back to the comfort of his flat, where he can shift back and pretend this whole mess never happened. Yet something keeps him rooted in place.

Then, he hears you talking to someone on the phone.

“Yes, I found a stray,” you say, your voice echoing slightly through the walls. “He’s so cute, but I don’t know … do you think I should take him to the vet? Get him checked out?”

Oscar’s blood runs cold. This is bad. This is really bad. He needs to get out — now.

You continue, “I was thinking maybe I could get him neutered too, you know? So he doesn’t run off and get hurt or something … ”

He bolts from under the chair, skidding across the linoleum as he makes a beeline for the door. But before he can reach it, you step back into the room, phone pressed to your ear.

“Whoa, whoa!” You exclaim, dropping the phone onto the table as you rush to block his path. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Oscar tries to dart around you, but you’re quicker than he anticipated, and he’s forced to leap onto the counter instead. He glares at you from his new perch, fur bristling in warning.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say, hands on your hips. “I’m just trying to help you.”

“Yeah, help me lose my manhood,” Oscar mutters under his breath, though it comes out as an indignant hiss.

You frown, clearly not understanding his displeasure. “You’re acting like I’m torturing you or something,” you say, reaching out cautiously. “Just let me put the collar on, okay? Then I’ll leave you alone.”

Oscar swats at your hand, his claws barely grazing your skin. He doesn’t want to hurt you — he just wants you to back off. This is getting too close for comfort.

You pull your hand back, eyes widening in surprise. “Okay, okay, no collar,” you say, trying to soothe him. “We’ll figure something else out.”

But Oscar’s had enough. He leaps from the counter to the windowsill, then down to the floor, and races towards the door again. This time, he manages to slip past you, his sleek black fur a blur as he darts through the narrow opening.

He hears you call after him, your voice tinged with worry, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t. He sprints down the hallway, paws pounding against the carpeted floor, until he reaches the stairwell. He takes the steps two at a time, his heart racing as he finally bursts out into the cool evening air.

Freedom.

He doesn’t slow down until he’s a good block away from your building, his chest heaving as he ducks into the shadows of a nearby alley. He’s safe. For now.

But then he hears it — your voice, faint but unmistakable, carried on the breeze as you step out of your apartment, searching for him.

“Kitty?” You call, your voice trembling slightly. “Where did you go?”

Oscar slinks further into the shadows, his heart twisting with guilt. He didn’t mean to scare you, but he couldn’t let you take him to the vet. He couldn’t let you get too close. But now, as he listens to the sound of your footsteps growing fainter, he feels a pang of something he hasn’t felt in a long time — regret.

“Please come back,” you whisper, and he can hear the tears in your voice. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I just wanted to help …”

Oscar’s resolve weakens, his tail flicking nervously as he peeks around the corner. He can see you standing there, arms wrapped around yourself as if trying to hold yourself together. You look so small, so vulnerable, and it tugs at something deep inside him.

He shouldn’t care. He’s not supposed to care. He’s always kept his distance, never letting anyone get too close, especially not like this. But here you are, and for reasons he can’t quite explain, he doesn’t want to see you cry.

He takes a tentative step forward, but then stops himself. What can he do? Walk back into your life, let you put that collar on him, and risk everything? Or turn away, leave you behind, and never look back?

You’re wiping at your eyes now, sniffling quietly. “I’m so stupid,” you mutter to yourself. “Why did I think I could just … ugh.”

Oscar’s ears droop. This is all wrong. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t feel this way. But the sight of you, standing there alone, makes him want to go back, to do something, anything, to make you smile again.

Before he can make a decision, you give up and turn back towards the building, your shoulders slumped in defeat.

Oscar watches you go, every instinct telling him to stay hidden, to let you go. But as you disappear through the door, he finds himself inching forward, until he’s standing just outside the entrance, ears perked up, listening for any sign of you.

Maybe, just maybe, he thinks, this isn’t over yet.

***

Oscar can’t help it. He tells himself he’s just checking in, that it’s only temporary. But day after day, he finds himself outside your building, watching, waiting, listening.

It starts with a cautious glance through the window, his keen eyes picking out your silhouette as you move about your flat. The blinds are often drawn, but he can still see enough. Enough to know that something’s changed.

You’re not yourself.

The first day after he ran away, he saw you sitting by the window, staring out into the distance, your face etched with worry. He tells himself it’s none of his business. That he’s done the right thing by leaving. But every time he turns to go, he finds his paws rooted to the spot, his gaze drawn back to you.

And then there’s the phone calls.

Oscar doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he can’t help it when your voice carries through the thin walls of the apartment building. One day, he’s curled up on the windowsill of the flat next door when he hears you talking on the phone again, your voice tinged with frustration and sadness.

“I just don’t understand,” you say, pacing back and forth. “He was here one minute and then gone the next. I’m so worried about him.”

Oscar’s ears perk up, guilt gnawing at him as he listens. You’re talking about him, of course. He knows that. And the fact that you’re still thinking about him, still concerned for his well-being, makes him feel like the world’s biggest jerk.

“He looked healthy,” you continue, your voice shaking slightly. “But what if something happened to him? What if he got hurt or … or worse?”

He winces at the pain in your voice. He didn’t want to scare you, didn’t want to make you worry. But what choice did he have? Letting you take him to the vet would have exposed him — both literally and figuratively. He couldn’t risk that.

“I read somewhere that stray cats have a lifespan of less than two years,” you say, your tone now laced with a mixture of fear and sadness. “I don’t want that to happen to him. I just … I just want him to be okay.”

Oscar closes his eyes, your words cutting deeper than any wound he’s ever felt. He doesn’t want to be the cause of your pain. But what can he do?

Then, he hears it — the soft, broken sound of you crying.

It’s like a punch to the gut. His ears flatten against his head, and he feels an overwhelming wave of guilt and shame. He doesn’t like seeing you like this. No, that’s not right — he hates it. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you, yet here you are, crying because of him.

He tries to walk away, to tell himself that it’s for the best, that you’ll move on and forget about him eventually. But the sound of your sobs echoes in his ears, haunting him, and he knows he can’t just leave it like this.

Maybe going back for a few hours won’t hurt anyone, he rationalizes, pacing back and forth in the alley. He’ll show up, let you see he’s okay, and then leave before things get too complicated. Simple.

But as he sits there, tail flicking with nervous energy, he realizes it’s not that simple. Because the truth is, he doesn’t want to leave. Not really. There’s something about you that draws him in, something that makes him feel … safe.

Wanted.

Needed.

And so, with a heavy sigh, he makes his decision. He waits until the sun sets, the shadows growing long and the streets quiet. Then, he slips through the narrow gap in the window that you always leave open, landing softly on the worn carpet of your living room.

You don’t notice him at first. You’re sitting on the couch, knees drawn up to your chest, your phone discarded on the cushion next to you. You’re staring at the TV, but it’s clear you’re not really watching it. Your eyes are red, cheeks stained with tears, and Oscar’s heart clenches at the sight.

He takes a cautious step forward, then another, his movements slow and deliberate. He doesn’t want to startle you, doesn’t want to make things worse. But as he approaches, you suddenly turn your head, your eyes widening as they meet his.

“Kitty?” You breathe, sitting up straight. For a moment, you just stare at him, as if you can’t believe he’s real. Then, slowly, a smile breaks across your face, soft and relieved. “You came back.”

Oscar doesn’t move, watching you carefully, trying to gauge your reaction. When you don’t make any sudden movements, he takes another step closer, his ears twitching nervously.

You wipe at your eyes, trying to compose yourself. “I thought I’d lost you,” you say, your voice shaky but full of warmth. “Where did you go?”

He doesn’t answer, of course — he can’t. But he does allow himself to move closer, until he’s standing right in front of you, his nose just inches from your outstretched hand.

“Can I … ” you ask, your hand hovering in the air, waiting for his permission.

Oscar hesitates for just a moment before he nuzzles against your palm, his fur brushing against your skin. It feels … right, somehow. Comforting. He closes his eyes, leaning into your touch as you gently stroke his head, your fingers trailing down his back in soothing motions.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, and Oscar can hear the relief in your voice. “I was so worried.”

Guilt twists in his chest again, but he pushes it aside. He’s here now, and that’s what matters. He’ll stay for a little while, just long enough to make sure you’re okay, too.

You sit back, still petting him, and Oscar takes the opportunity to hop up onto the couch beside you. He curls up next to you, resting his head on your leg, and for a moment, everything feels … normal. Peaceful, even.

“You must have been so scared,” you murmur, your voice soft as you continue to stroke his fur. “Running away like that … I don’t blame you, though. I must have freaked you out with all that vet talk.”

Oscar doesn’t react, but internally, he’s cursing himself. Of course you’re blaming yourself. Why wouldn’t you? You have no idea who — or what — he really is. To you, he’s just a scared little stray cat who panicked and bolted at the first sign of trouble.

“But I’m not going to push you anymore,” you say, as if reading his thoughts. “I just want you to be safe. That’s all.”

The sincerity in your voice hits Oscar like a ton of bricks. He knows he shouldn’t be here, knows he’s playing with fire by getting this close. But in this moment, he can’t bring himself to care. He’s missed this — missed you, even though he barely knows you.

You lean back against the couch, your hand still resting on his back, and Oscar feels a strange sense of contentment wash over him. It’s been a long time since he’s felt this way — since he’s allowed himself to feel this way. And as much as he knows he should leave, he can’t. Not yet.

He hears you yawn, the sound soft and tired, and he lifts his head to look up at you. You’re fighting to keep your eyes open, your movements slow and drowsy. It’s late, and he can see the exhaustion etched into your features.

“Guess we both had a long day,” you mumble, your hand coming to rest on the couch beside him as you settle back into the cushions. “I should probably get to bed.”

Oscar watches as you slowly push yourself up, stretching as you stand. He expects you to head to your bedroom, to leave him on the couch for the night. But instead, you glance down at him, a hesitant smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Wanna come with me?” You ask, your voice soft and inviting.

He knows it’s a bad idea. He knows he should stay right where he is, let you go to bed, and slip out the window before morning comes. But the thought of leaving you alone, of returning to the cold, empty streets outside, makes his chest tighten with a loneliness he hasn’t felt in years.

So, against his better judgment, he hops down from the couch and follows you down the short hallway to your bedroom.

You open the door, flicking on a small bedside lamp, and Oscar watches as you move around the room, pulling back the covers and fluffing up your pillows. He hesitates at the threshold, his instincts warring with the pull he feels toward you.

But then you turn to him, patting the space beside you on the bed, and he’s powerless to resist.

“C’mon, kitty,” you say, your voice warm and coaxing. “You can sleep here tonight.”

He pads over to the bed, jumping up onto the soft mattress. It’s warm, inviting, and before he knows it, he’s curled up next to you, your presence calming in a way he didn’t think possible.

You slip under the covers, lying on your side, and Oscar snuggles closer, his body pressed against yours. He can feel your steady breathing, hear the soft rustle of the sheets as you settle in, and it lulls him into a sense of safety he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, your voice already thick with sleep.

Oscar's eyes drift closed, his body warm and relaxed as he nestles against you. He knows he should be on high alert, ready to bolt at any moment, but for the first time in what feels like forever, he allows himself to let go. Just for tonight.

As you fall asleep beside him, your hand resting gently on his back, Oscar realizes he’s found something here — something he didn’t know he was missing. He can’t stay forever, but maybe, just maybe, he can stay a little longer.

Just for tonight.

***

Oscar wakes to the sound of a scream that nearly sends him bolting out of bed. His eyes fly open, his heart hammering in his chest, but the feeling that greets him isn’t the familiar warmth of fur or the safe confines of a small, curled-up position.

It’s a body — a human body.

His human body.

And beside him, you’re staring at him, your eyes wide with shock, your mouth open in mid-scream as you scramble to the edge of the bed, clutching the covers around you like a shield.

“What the — who the hell are you?” You shriek, your voice high-pitched and panicked.

Oscar’s brain stutters to catch up with what’s happening. He glances down at himself, realizing with a jolt that he’s completely naked. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. This isn’t happening. How could he have been so careless? He’s been shifting for years, but never like this. Never in front of someone. Never in such a vulnerable position.

“I-I can explain,” he stammers, his voice rough with sleep and panic. He grabs at the nearest pillow, pressing it to his lap in a desperate attempt to cover himself. “Just, um, don’t freak out. Please.”

“Explain?” You repeat, your voice trembling as you blink rapidly, as if trying to wake up from a nightmare. “What the hell are you doing in my bed? And why are you … why are you … naked?”

Oscar’s mind races, the words tangling together in his head. He’s supposed to be good under pressure — he’s faced down race cars at hundreds of kilometers per hour, for crying out loud. But right now, all he can think about is how utterly screwed he is.

“I-I’m not a creep, I swear,” he blurts out, his face flushing with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to — this isn’t what it looks like.”

Your eyes narrow, still full of fear and confusion, but also dawning recognition. You stare at him for a long moment, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Then, slowly, the pieces start to fall into place, and your expression shifts from terror to something else entirely.

“Wait a minute,” you say, squinting at him. “I know you. You’re … Oscar Piastri?”

He winces at the sound of his name. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.”

You gape at him, your mouth opening and closing as you struggle to find the words. “Oscar Piastri is in my bed. Naked. And I’m … wait, am I still dreaming? Did I fall asleep watching Formula 1 highlights again?”

“No, no, you’re not dreaming,” Oscar says quickly, shaking his head. “This is real. But I promise, I can explain. Just … can we, maybe, both take a breath for a second?”

You inhale sharply, clutching the covers tighter around yourself as you stare at him with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. “Okay,” you say, your voice shaky. “Breathing. Breathing is good. But you still owe me a pretty big explanation.”

Oscar nods, taking a deep breath himself to steady his racing thoughts. He’s never had to explain this to anyone before, and now that he’s actually faced with the situation, he realizes just how insane it’s going to sound.

“Okay, so, uh …” He rubs the back of his neck, trying to figure out how to start. “I know this is going to sound really weird, but … you remember the cat? The one you were worried about?”

Your brow furrows in confusion, and you nod slowly. “Yeah …”

“Well,” Oscar continues, his voice trailing off for a moment before he forces himself to say it. “That was me. I mean, I was the cat.”

You blink at him, clearly trying to process what he just said. “Wait. You’re saying … you’re the cat? Like, you were the cat?”

“Yeah,” Oscar says, wincing at how ridiculous it sounds out loud. “I’m, um, I’m a shifter. I can turn into a black cat. And I was the cat that you, uh, accidentally … kidnapped.”

You stare at him, your mouth hanging open as you try to wrap your head around this. “So, you’re telling me that the cat I’ve been feeding, the cat that I tried to take to the vet, was actually you? The whole time?”

Oscar nods sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s right. I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I was just … curious, I guess. But then things got a little out of hand.”

You sit back on the bed, your mind clearly spinning as you try to reconcile the image of the cute, harmless black cat with the sight of Oscar Piastri — fully human and fully naked — in your bed. “This is … this is insane,” you say, shaking your head. “I mean, I believe you, I guess. But it’s just … wow.”

“Yeah, I know,” Oscar says, offering a small, awkward smile. “It’s a lot to take in. And I’m really sorry for scaring you like that. I didn’t mean to shift back. It usually doesn’t happen unless I want it to, but I guess I must’ve just … relaxed too much.”

You laugh, a short, incredulous sound. “Relaxed? You were relaxed enough to just shift back into a human? Wow, I must be really good company.”

Oscar chuckles nervously. “You have no idea.”

There’s a moment of silence as you both try to process everything. Then, you look back at him, your expression softening slightly. “So, you’re really … a shifter? Like, that’s a real thing?”

Oscar nods. “Yeah. I’ve been able to do it since I was a kid. It’s not something I talk about, obviously. It’s kind of a secret.”

“A big secret,” you say, your eyes wide. “I mean, it’s not every day you find out an F1 driver can turn into a cat.”

Oscar blushes at that, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief that you’re taking this better than he expected. “Yeah, it’s not exactly something I advertise. And, uh, I’d really appreciate it if you could keep this between us.”

You nod quickly, your expression earnest. “Of course. I wouldn’t tell anyone. I mean, who would believe me, anyway?”

Oscar lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Thank you. Seriously. This whole thing … it’s complicated, and I don’t want to make things harder for myself or anyone else.”

You smile, a hint of playfulness returning to your eyes. “Well, I guess I’m the last person who’d have room to judge. I did kind of … try to get you neutered.”

Oscar laughs, the tension in the room easing slightly. “Yeah, that was … a close call.”

You shake your head, still looking slightly overwhelmed but more at ease now. “I’m sorry for that, by the way. I had no idea.”

“It’s okay,” Oscar says, smiling. “I’m just glad I got out of there before it was too late.”

There’s another pause, the awkwardness slowly fading into something more comfortable. You glance over at the clock on your nightstand, and then back at him, your eyes narrowing slightly.

“So,” you say, a teasing edge in your voice. “What’s the plan now? Are you just going to stay here or …”

Oscar’s eyes widen as he remembers his current state of undress. “Oh, uh, right. I should probably … get dressed. Do you have, like, a blanket or something?”

You laugh, your initial shock giving way to amusement. “Yeah, hold on.” You reach over to the chair by the bed, grabbing the throw blanket draped over it and tossing it to him. “Here. Cover up before I have to start charging you for the show.”

Oscar catches the blanket, wrapping it around himself as best as he can. “Thanks. Sorry about that. Not exactly how I planned on spending my morning.”

You smile, still shaking your head in disbelief. “This is definitely the weirdest morning of my life.”

“Same here,” Oscar admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “But, uh, now that we’ve got that out of the way … do you maybe want to grab breakfast or something? With no canned tuna this time.”

You raise an eyebrow, the playful spark back in your eyes. “Breakfast? With a shifter who accidentally ended up naked in my bed? Sounds like the start of a weird romcom.”

Oscar grins, his nerves finally settling. “Yeah, maybe. But, I mean, the offer still stands. We could … talk more. Or not talk at all. Just … eat?”

You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, I don’t know. I’ve always been more of a Ferrari girlie. But I guess I can make an exception this once.”

Oscar chuckles, his heart lightening at your teasing tone. “Well, I appreciate that. I’ll try not to hold it against you.”

You laugh, standing up and stretching, the tension finally draining from the room. “Okay, then. Breakfast it is. But you owe me a proper explanation over pancakes. I still have a lot of questions.”

“Deal,” Oscar says, standing as well, the blanket still wrapped around him. “And, uh, maybe I can borrow some clothes? Just until I get back to my place.”

You smirk, clearly amused by his predicament. “Sure. I think I have some sweatpants and a T-shirt that might fit you. They’re probably not papaya, though.”

Oscar laughs, feeling more at ease than he has in days. “That’s fine by me. I’m not picky.”

As you head off to find the clothes, Oscar takes a deep breath, letting the reality of the situation sink in. It’s definitely not how he expected this to go, but somehow, it feels right. Like maybe this bizarre turn of events was exactly what he needed.

And as he watches you rummage through your dresser, he can’t help but think that, for once, shifting back to his human form at the wrong time might have been the best mistake he’s ever made.

***

Oscar leaps onto the windowsill, his black fur sleek and gleaming in the afternoon light. He peers through the glass, watching you, seated at your desk, hunched over your textbooks. Your hair is pulled back, a pen held between your teeth as you jot down notes with a furrowed brow.

He feels a surge of affection watching you work so hard, but it’s mixed with a touch of mischief. He’s been patient all day, but now he’s had enough. It’s time for a study break, whether you want one or not.

With a graceful hop, he slips through the open window and lands silently on the floor. His tail flicks behind him as he pads softly toward you, his green eyes locked onto your focused expression. He almost feels guilty interrupting you — almost. But then again, it’s been hours since you last gave him any attention, and he’s starting to feel a bit neglected.

You don’t notice him at first, too engrossed in whatever academic puzzle you’re trying to solve. But Oscar is nothing if not persistent. He jumps onto your desk, landing squarely on your notebook, and lets out a soft, insistent meow.

Your head jerks up in surprise, your eyes widening as you take in the sight of him. “Oscar! You scared me!”

He purrs, rubbing his head against your arm, his way of saying, “Sorry, but you’ve been ignoring me.”

You sigh, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays your affection. “I’ve got a lot to do, you know. Finals are coming up.”

Oscar meows again, louder this time, before nudging your hand with his head. He can feel you wavering, your resolve crumbling as you reach out to scratch behind his ears. His purring deepens, vibrating through his small frame as he leans into your touch.

“You’re so spoiled,” you mutter, but there’s no real annoyance in your voice. “You know that, right?”

Oscar only purrs louder in response, nuzzling against your hand. He steps carefully onto your lap, circling once before settling down. You laugh softly, resigned, as you set your pen aside and lean back in your chair.

“Alright, alright. I guess I can take a break for a few minutes.”

He stretches out, making himself comfortable as you begin to pet him in earnest, your fingers trailing through his fur in long, slow strokes. It’s blissful, the way you touch him, the warmth of your hand against his back.

All thoughts of studying fade from your mind as you focus entirely on him, and Oscar relishes every second of it. This is what he’s wanted all day — to be close to you, to feel your affection without any distractions.

Minutes pass, and your strokes become slower, more languid. Oscar watches you through half-lidded eyes, sensing your fatigue. The stress of studying, of exams, is catching up with you, and he knows how much you’ve been pushing yourself lately. He nudges you with his head, encouraging you to relax even more, to let go of the tension that’s been building up.

You yawn, a deep, sleepy sound that makes him purr in satisfaction. “I think you’re a bad influence on me, Oscar,” you murmur, your voice drowsy. “I should be studying, but all I want to do is cuddle with you.”

Oscar’s purring doesn’t falter — if anything, it grows even more content. He watches as your eyelids grow heavier, your breathing slows, and your hand eventually stills against his fur. You’re falling asleep, lulled by the gentle rhythm of petting him and the comfort of his presence.

He stays perfectly still, letting you drift off completely. You deserve the rest, he thinks. You’ve been working so hard, and a little nap won’t hurt. Besides, he likes being the reason you’re able to relax like this, to forget about your worries for a while.

When he’s certain you’re fully asleep, Oscar carefully extracts himself from your lap, moving with the quiet grace of a cat. He pads over to the couch, glancing back to make sure you’re still sleeping soundly. Then, in one fluid motion, he shifts back into his human form.

Oscar sighs softly, standing by the couch for a moment as he stretches his arms over his head. It’s been a long day for him too — training, meetings, the usual demands of being a Formula 1 driver. But this is the part of his day he looks forward to the most: being with you, in this quiet, peaceful space that the two of you share.

He carefully lifts you from the chair, cradling you in his arms as he carries you to the couch. You stir slightly but don’t wake, your head resting against his chest as he settles you down on the cushions. Oscar smiles, brushing a strand of hair from your face before he stretches out beside you, pulling you close.

He wraps an arm around you, your body fitting perfectly against his. There’s something indescribably comforting about holding you like this, feeling your warmth seep into him as you sleep. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, closing his eyes as he allows himself to relax fully for the first time all day.

The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you, entwined on the couch. Oscar can hear your steady breathing, feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest against his. It’s moments like this that make everything worth it — the races, the pressure, the endless travel. None of it compares to this simple, quiet happiness.

As he holds you, Oscar’s thoughts drift. He thinks about how much his life has changed since that day you found him in your bed, how unexpected it all was. He hadn’t planned on letting anyone in, on sharing his secret with someone else. But you … you’ve become so much more than he ever anticipated.

You’re his confidant, his partner, his best friend. And though he’s still getting used to the idea, you’re also the person he’s fallen in love with, slowly and completely. It’s a realization that both scares and excites him, because he’s never had something — or someone — this important before. Racing has always been his focus, but now, you’re a part of his life that he can’t imagine being without.

As you sleep in his arms, Oscar tightens his hold on you, a protective instinct kicking in. He’ll do anything to keep you safe, to make sure you’re happy. And if that means taking any opportunity to spend more time with you, to be there for you when you need him, then that’s what he’ll do.

You murmur something in your sleep, your body shifting slightly against his. Oscar’s heart swells with affection, and he kisses your forehead again, a silent promise that he’ll always be here for you.

Outside, the sun begins to set, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. The world keeps turning, the demands of life waiting just outside the door. But for now, in this moment, there’s nothing else that matters. Just you, and him, and the quiet contentment of being together.

Oscar closes his eyes, letting the peace of the moment wash over him. There will be time for everything else later. For now, he’s exactly where he wants to be.

[deep-dark-fears]

Look at the whole person. An anonymous fear submitted to Deep Dark Fears. You can find original artwork in my store. Whoa - just noticed that I drew this one two years ago. I hadn’t published it at the time, because I was worried that it wouldn’t be received as I’d intended. It bums me out when I see news stories about health, and overweight people are shown neck-down to illustrate unhealthy lifestyles. It’s weird and dehumanizing. There are some wonderful people in the world who are overweight. Anyhow, I’m going through a bunch of comics today.

[willowpains]

moments where their friendship blossomed

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

getting to know each other

Maddie and Drew were hosting a game night in their apartment during the first week of filming, so it was just you guys: Maddie, Drew, Madison, Chase, JD, Rudy, Austin and y/n.

It had been a few days of filming and bonding, getting to know each other and your characters, joking, etc.

But it had always been during filming, so they had decided to host a little game night to get to know each other as friends, and not in a work environment, even though it didn’t even feel like work cause we were always having fun.

They popped out some beers, pizza was ordered, many bags of chips were opened, glasses of wine were shared and everything was flowing perfectly, everyone having a wonderful time just being dumb and enjoying each others company.

“Y/n, is it hard being so far away from home? or like, in another country?” Chase asked, popping a chip on his mouth and looking at you attentively.

You shrugged while letting out a sight.

“It’s been a little hard” you said trying to find the right words to express your feelings. “I’m such a family girl, being away from my family will always be a challenge for me” your eyes meet your friends’s for a second. “But it’s not my first time, so I think I’ve been slowly preparing myself for this moment my whole life” you pause “I knew that one day this would be the price to pay to achieve my dreams”

Your friends listened and silenced and looked at you while you finished explaining how you felt.

It wasn’t hard to open up to them. It might’ve been the wine, or the energy that they exuded, making you feel comforted and that you could trust them.

“You’re gonna make me tear up” Maddie said while sipping on her wine.

You let out a laugh while she extends her hand out for you to take it, and you do, squeezing hers and giving her a smile.

“Well we’re your family now too” Drew suddenly spoke from the couch in front of you. “And we’ll be here if you need us” he said looking at you “Here for each other” he finished looking at the rest around you.

You smiled at his words, feeling your heart warm at the gesture, and at the meaning behind it. You had basically just met, but you were already so close to the group.

“Is it weird that it feels like we’ve met for longer than a week?” Madison spoke after taking a sip of her beer. “Like I know it’s not just the alcohol speaking” she giggled “I feel like I’ve known you guys for a lifetime”

Rudy clapped his hands together making us jump in our places.

“No you’re right” he said pointing to Madison “This” he motion towards the group “Just feels right”.

Austin tipped his beer bottle upwards toasting to Rudy’s words.

“Cheers to that” JD said clicking his beer with ours.

“To our new found family!” Maddie said excitedly as we all repeated her words and sipped our drinks with big smiles on our faces.

You never knew if they could tell, but that night, you went back to your place feeling like even if you were miles away from home, you were not alone.

breaking character

“Action!”

Drew and you were filming a scene for season one, where your character, a pogue named Luna who’s friends with John B and the rest of the group, is working at the midsummers party as a hostess, having to face Rafe and his kook friends before chaos begins.

“Fancy seeing you here Luna” Drew says getting into character, quickly approaching you as you stood near the windows trying to look busy with your papers in hand.

��Can I help you Rafe?” You ask moving your gaze to meet his, with a monotone voice, clearly trying to keep calm for whatever was about to come.

“Come on doll, why the long face?” He asks as he smirks, moving his hands to rest on the pockets of his pants looking at you.

You roll your eyes as you turn around and start walking away from him.

“Whoa, I’m surprised” he says with irony dripping from his voice as you feel him walking behind you. “I expected disrespect from your filthy friends, not from you” he chuckles.

You turn around sharply, almost bumping into him, giving him a, pretty unfriendly look.

“If you cannot tell, I’m busy working” you say giving him a fake smile “I’d appreciate it if you stopped wasting my precious time” you finish dropping your smile immediately.

Drew scoffs as he watches you turn around one more time, but now, his hand goes on to grab your wrist, holding you in place a little bit longer.

“I’m not done talking to you Luna” he murmured under his breath looking you dead in the eye. “Why you’re so aggressive all of a sudden?”

It was your turn to scoff at him.

“You treat my friends like shit Rafe” you whisper angrily at him, trying not to talk too loud. Your character scared to loose her job. “You treat us like we’re below you and I’m tired”.

You make a move to release your hand from his hold but he doesn’t budge.

“I’ve never done anything to you” he whispers low and slow at you as he holds eye contact.

You take a moment to look at him before answering him.

“Every time you do something to them” you gesture to nobody in particular, just outside, where you knew the rest of the party gathered. “You’re doing it to me”

You make a move to turn around and leave once again, but his grip refused to let you go, and you try to yank your hand away.

“Stop it” you say whispering, your patience running low as you look at him.

“Look I…” he moves a little closer to you, and you notice the desperate look in his eyes.

But before he can speak any further, Rudy, playing JJ, walks hurriedly behind you as he’s being chased by some other guys playing kooks.

“JJ what are you…?” You are not able to finish your question towards him, as he’s moving faster away from you.

Rudy glances back as he gives you a look like he has it all under control.

“Luna, get the crew! We gotta move!” He screams, causing more commotion around him as he stumbles upon a couple of people, mumbling apologies, before he disappears into a hallway and a couple of kooks follow behind.

Drew drops your hand grumbling and mumbling out words under his breath that you cannot make out.

“We’ll continue our conversation later” he says with a stressed tone, as he makes a move to follow where Rudy had just disappeared.

Now it was your time to take a hold of his arm, trying to stop him.

“Leave him alone Rafe” you say, trying to sound as threatening as possible.

Drew scoffs and easily yanks his arm out of your hold as he turns to start sprinting to where the other kooks had gone.

But as he takes a step forward, he somehow slips and trips, hitting the floor before you can even reach out for him, his shoes making a lot of sound against the wooden floors.

“Oh shit” Drew says as he’s unable to save himself from the fall, and just tries to put his arms out to protect himself a little better from the fall.

Without thinking, a gasp leaves your mouth as you watch him fall in front of your eyes.

You wait a couple of seconds before covering your mouth while looking at him on the floor, debating on whether to help him up or stay in place to salvage the scene.

In that moment, laughter can be heard behind the camera, and that’s your cue to walk to Drew on the floor, as you lean down and crouch next to him before exploding in laughter.

“Are you okay?” You ask between giggles, looking at him now fully laying down laughing.

He nodded while he covered his eyes and continued laughing at himself.

“God that was embarrassing” he says as he sits up and you gently pat him on the back helping him up, still remembering how he fell down.

You turn around and point to the camera.

“Please keep it in the blooper reel!” You scream at the crew behind the camera, turning to look at it while you point to Drew.

Everyone around you two starts laughing even more, as Drew groans next to you and nudges your arm playfully.

“I just fell down! Give me a break” he says to you as he takes his hands through his hair, trying to fix it as he continues laughing.

You place your hands over your stomach as you crouch in laughter, not being able to keep it together.

“I’m so sorry” you say, feeling like you could pee yourself from laughter.

“That funny huh?” Drew asks as he slowly stands up and and dusts off his pants. “Well, someone needs to show me the scene now” he laughed.

People on set and behind the camera chuckled at his words.

He offered you a hand as you looked him up from your position crouched on the floor, trying to regain your breath.

“You just made my day” you say, accepting his hand as he pulls you up gently until you’re both standing up.

He smiles at you as he looks down chuckling.

“At least something good came out of it” he says sarcastically while he shoves me away playfully and laughs.

tomfoolery

It was late at night. Who knew what time during midnight, and you all were still stuck filming.

Night shoots were usually fun.

Except you’d been filming all day, and now all night, without breaks.

To say you were all tired, it was an understatement.

But you had all reached the point past tiredness, where now, you were basically delusional from sleep deprivation.

Laughing, making terrible jokes that almost made you pee your pants, singing songs off key with wrong lyrics, and many other things.

Right now, you were all waiting to be called for a scene, except Maddie and Chase, because they were currently filming. While JD, Madison, Rudy and Austin were sleeping, ones on the floor, and other on their chairs.

Drew and you were the ones pulling an all nighter, having a battle on who out of the group could last longer awake, and on their right state of mind.

As you could see, some of your friends had already lost.

“I’m gonna put you on a great song” you say pulling out your phone from your pocket, while scrolling on Spotify.

Drew groaned while he threw his head back.

“I know it’s a reggaeton song” he says groaning while closing his eyes, resting them for a bit.

You giggled slightly at how well he knew you.

It was a you thing at this point.

Coming up to all of your friends often and trying to introduce them to reggaeton. It was like you were inviting them to join to your cult or something. They all made fun of you for it.

“You’re gonna love it, I promise” you say standing up from your chair and walking to Drew’s, hitting play and moving your hand around your phone speaker to try and make it louder.

You were playing Callaita, by Bad Bunny and Tainy, a very popular song at the time that made you wanna dance immediately.

He took out his phone and began filming how you were vibing to the song, moving your hips doing a very bad Shakira impression, while you mouthed the words without missing a beat, Drew laughing hysterically behind the camera.

“Wait what’s it saying?” He asks as he continues filming you.

You walked closer to him, getting really close to the camera while you continued singing and hitting each word right.

“You don’t wanna know” you say while breaking down and laughing hysterically on the floor.

Drew made sure he was capturing everything, you would all laugh about it later.

Suddenly, a loud shush from behind made you both look at the source of the sound.

Austin was looking disheveled and sleepy, as he looked at your position on the floor, giving you a dirty look as he went back to sleep after asking you to please tone it down.

Drew zoomed in on his face while he woke up, and then, moved the camera to film yours, that was wide eyed and trying to hold back a huge giggle.

You broke out in low laughter as you covered your face and hid in your jacket, trying to muffle your sounds not wanting to disturb anyone else.

Drew cut the video shortly after he captured your body wheezing of laughter on the floor and he couldn’t contain his own any longer.

“Enough reggaeton” he said after a few minutes of you two trying to regain your composure and going back to laughing and failing terribly.

“Boooo” you said wiping your laughing tears away as you looked up at him from your position on the floor, almost next to his feet.

“Let’s listen to some Arctic Monkeys now” he says as he searches for a song on his phone.

You giggle as you pause your own music and look at him.

“So we’re still on slutty music, but now in English huh?” You let out while you raise your eyebrows at him.

He looks at you for a second before bursting out in laughter again.

It’s safe to say your friends were pissed at you for waking them up from their sleep a few times.

nights out

The cast had decided to go out to a bar in Charleston to celebrate the wrap up on filming the first season of Outer Banks.

You were all around a table, already a few drinks in, snacking on chips and fries while talking and reminiscing on everyone’s favorite moments from set.

“We should all go around the table and say something we’re grateful about this project and meeting each other” Madison spoke suddenly catching our attention. “We don’t know if we’ll ever get to work again together, but now that we’re done filming, it just feels fitting”.

Everyone agreed and as Madison was the one with the idea, she was the one that kicked off the dynamic.

She started by saying how grateful and lucky she felt about the opportunity and getting to know each and every one of you.

When they started mentioning different things they came to love about each other, your heart swelled with love for your friends.

They all had said the most loveliest things about you.

Madison said she admired your bravery and pride in being truly yourself without holding back anything, that she wished she could’ve learned to be like you sooner in her life.

Chase told you he was grateful for your taste in music, that he didn’t know all that he was missing on all along.

JD surprised you by saying how much of a sister he saw in you, that he had connected and bonded on a lot of family struggles you both had gone through.

Austin said that your late night talking sessions were one of the highlights of his time, that he appreciated how you always listened, without judgement.

Rudy expressed how amazed he was by your ability to get a laugh out of everyone in the group. That you definitely were the funniest and he would miss your sense of humor.

Madelyn’s words made your heart swell and almost shed a few tears.

She told you how much she loved you. That she didn’t know she could form a bond so deep and so meaningful with someone in such a short period of time. She had always had this deep longing in her chest for a friend where the bond could feel like sisterhood, where there were no envy, competition, and more so support, laughs, girl talks, and all that stuff. And that wherever your life would take each of you, you were now stuck together.

They had all made you feel more than loved and appreciated.

It was your turn to speak.

You thanked everyone for all you had learned, and went on saying everything you admired from each and every single one of them.

When it came to Drew, you said it all.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so selfless and giving as you” you told him while smiling at him across the table. “I don’t think you noticed, but every day we shared together, you taught me a little bit more about being able to share a piece of me without waiting for anything in return”.

Drew smiled at you while he listened with attentive eyes.

“I have to say i always looked for the moments in the day were we could just talk from something important to absolute nonsense” you paused gathering your thoughts. “Because something about you, ever since we met, has felt so calming” you looked at him “And I found myself looking for the peace you brought to me all the time”.

His cheeks reddened and you asked yourself if it was possible that he could look any more adorable.

“Thank you for letting me in your life Drew, I won’t ever take it for granted” you finished as you took a sip of your drink before continuing.

You breathed deeply before looking at all of your friends.

“I believe this project has had the biggest butterfly effect in my life so far” you say. “I don’t know how our show will do, and I can only hope that it goes great, so I can have the pleasure of working with you all again” you laughed with them as you crossed your fingers. “But what I do know, is that I am so grateful that our paths have crossed, and that now I have you all in my life, because I’ve learned from you and I’ve experienced things that I’ll take with me forever” you finished as you cheered rising your drink and smiling at your friends.

They all cheered and sipped to your words.

Because they felt the same.

And at last, but very not least, came Drew’s turn.

As always, he took his time saying sweet words about all of your friends, leaving you to the end.

He sighed as he looked at you before clearing his throat.

“Y/n, where do I even begin” he said smiling at you. “You’ve surprised me in more ways that I can even mention”

You smiled back at him as you felt your heart warm with affection.

“I couldn’t quite read you at the beginning, and I’m happy to say that you have turned out to be one of the biggest plot twists in my life” he said, making everyone in the table laugh, while your cheeks blushed at the compliment. “I never expected to meet someone like you, you have been amazing to me, always there to ask how I am, to listen if needed, to crack a joke and get a laugh out of me, to recommend me the newest book you’ve discovered, to ask if I wanted to watch a movie, to help me do groceries, the list could go on forever” he paused. “And I know we all have been lucky to have you in our lives thanks to this project”

Tears welled up in your eyes as he continued pouring his heart out.

“I have to be honest and say I’m truly terrified of this coming to an end” he motions towards the group and lays his eyes on you once again. “I don’t wanna lose this bond that we’ve built with each other”

You nodded at his words, listening attentively at him.

“And I definitely don’t wanna think about having to go a day without listening to you talk about the next book you wanna buy” he said smiling at you. “Because now that I’ve experienced what’s it like to have someone like you in my life, I don’t wanna go back”.

You stood up from your chair, and rounded the table until you stood next to him and enveloped him in a hug, resting your cheek against his chest.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you.

“Your words were so kind” you whispered, still holding on to him. “Thank you”

Drew’s chest rumbled as he let out a soft laugh, still enveloping you between his arms, as he leaned back a bit to look at you.

“Nothing but the truth” he smiled at you.

*

I ABSOLUTELY LOVED THIS!

hope you liked getting to know her a little bit better and her relationship with drew and the cast<3

let me know if you wanna read or see anything in particular about latina actress reader!

[writingforatwistedworld]

Requests are open?? May I request Lilia and Malleus from the self aware au with a player who is an artist and draws them a lot?

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsession, death, murder, hypocrisy, fire, coma, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior

Malleus Draconia/Lilia Vanrouge-Player is an artist who draws them a lot

Doesn't matter what kind of style and form of art you practice, you have a fan

Classical? Great! Realism? Wonderful! Stick-man-style? He put the picture in a golden frame (All hail the stick-man style!)

But if Malleus were to ever find out that said stick man is supposed to be him, well he would be over the moon

It was a totally normal day, a cat was choking up a hairball and some poor student fell off of his broom in flying class and was now stuck in a tree

But that is of no importance to us

What is of importance though is Malleus strolling down the path down to Ramshackle and seeing you sit on the stairs with paper and other drawing utensils

Completely normal. Peaceful even. Maybe a bit too peaceful

You see, if you hadn't been too absorbed into rubbing colored pigments into dead wood then you would have seen the tall black wall approaching you

A shadow falls over your shoulder and you scream

Is that... him? Why is the Overseer draw-oh

Malleus is metaphorically (more or less. Meh, he is probably this close to doing it also literally) frothing from his mouth after seeing himself in more than just one paper after the small stack stabilizing the paper you drew on slipped from your hands

Forgetting his manners he rips the paper from the ground, staring with eyes wide as plates onto the thinly pressed wood (granny is somewhere shaking her head)

Why would the Overseer, watcher over worlds, almighty ruler of everything, a god, draw him?

Coughing nervously you explained that you just are interested in are and liked to draw him

Later when he is back in Diasomnia Lilia is greeted with the sight of a tail-wagging Malleus (yes Malleus has a tail and I have no idea how he hides it)

“Lilia, the Overseer likes to draw me.”-moments before calamity struck and Malleus accidentally lit the dorm aflame from sheer joy

But... perhaps you shouldn't draw anyone else

Who knows? Maybe that person disappears for a while and just to be found in a deep coma (don't do it)

Whoa whoa whoa darling, let us not jump at him from nowhere with the fact that you like to draw him

After all, he is quite old and we don't know what his poor heart can still take

Now how about you tell him about your interest in art fir- ah... From your expression I take that it is too late for that

Indeed it is

One day you were just sitting there in Ramshackle, T-posing or whatever you do when you are not drawing

Remember that scene when Lilia was introduced to us? Well “How do you do fellow kids” over here just popped out of thin air

Now, that would have been nothing special if it wasn't for the stack of paper with his face on it on the table...

Lilia is staring, you are staring and the gargoyles are facepalming

Poor man has to take a seat all whilst you watch him with cold sweat running down your back

Suddenly Lilia isn't that “always energetic” guy but looks a lot more vulnerable

In Lilias mind however he is planning how to burn that one portrait of himself in the Draconia castle and replace it with your art

Or so he thought until he looked what else you drew

For goodness sake, someone call an ambulance! I think he is about to pass out!

If the situation wasn't already awkward enough for you (and euphoric for him) Lilia suddenly kneels down, saying something about being honored and him swearing to be forever loyal to you

Oh sweet summer child, how easily you told him “Oh thanks...” If only you knew what would follow...

You see, Lilia might have had seen a few too many heads being severed from their bodies but, oh well, all those students were a teeny tiny bit too close to you for his comfort

Suddenly there is an increase in missing students who get found in... uh... “not compatible with life” conditions

See? It's dangerous outside! Let him watch over you!

Says the person responsible for everything

You had shown your appreciation through your art, now it's his turn to show his

And what if a few students need to get hurt? (Yeah, “hurt”)

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: A Tragic Romance

King: gosh joanne sure has been trending a while on twitter King: like, for almost a week straight Poe: oo Poe: er Poe: that's King: yeah that's not good Poe: that's very bad Poe: i don't think it's healthy Poe: it does things to you

Vladmir Nabokov: ok i got a story Nabokov: but i'm only gonna tell it if you all promise not to be mad at me Poe: we promise Nabokov: you promise? Nabokov: you all have to say it Poe: we all promise King: sure we promise Barker: promise Nabokov: swear i

Vladimir Nabokov: ok this is the story of the guy who raised his own child bride Piers Anthony: why would you say something so controversial and yet so brave

King: wow jeez um Nabokov: but before you all get mad at me Nabokov: keep in mind that the narrator is unreliable King: i dunno this really seems kinda... Nabokov: unreliable, goddamnit! unreliable!

King: wow this story seems pretty out there King: and you endorse this kind of thing? Nabokov: unreliable, dammit! i said unreliable! King: cuz i don't think we can approve of this Nabokov: oh my GOD

Nabokov: you had a baby clown gangbang King: WHOA now you're taking that scene WAY out of context vladimir and you know it

Nabokov: you all can't understand this! this is REAL literature JK Rowling: exactly Nabokov: see? she gets it Rowling: a beautifully tragic love ssstory Nabokov: yes a bea Nabokov: Nabokov: what

Rowling: yeah i thought it was a wonderful love ssstory King: Poe: Koontz: Lovecraft: Barker: Rowling: why are you looking at me like that? Rowling: iss it becausse you hate women?

Rowling: i know i know, you're all thinking Rowling: a romance between a middle aged man and a child?? Rowling: but don't worry! Rowling: they're both their assssigned at birth genderss Rowling: sso it'ss all ok

Rowling: humbert humbert ssufferss greatly in the purssuit of romance sso when lolita sstartss looking elssewhere for attention, humbert will carry her off on a desperate cross-country misadventure all in the name of love Rowling: in National Lampoon's Cross State Line Vacation

VC Andrews: i don't think that's much of a romance Rowling: oh yeah??? well what would YOU know? Andrews: funny you should ask Andrews: i do have some ideas about that

VC Andrews: [singing] i have a secret recipe Andrews: concocted with much skill Andrews: and once you've tried my special dish Andrews: you'll Andrews: never Andrews: get Andrews: your Andrews: filllll Andrews: TAKEEEEEE Andrews: ten terrific blood relatives...

Rowling: tell them, vladmir, it's a romance right? Nabokov: no it's about how i heard these scientists taught an ape to draw Rowling: Rowling: Rowling:

Nabokov: ironically the ape only drew the bars of its prison Nabokov: makes you think Poe: i have no sympathy Poe: that ape can rot for all i care Barker: yeah edgar has strong feelings about apes Poe: ROT, i say

[storiesforallfandoms]

another man in a red suit ~ spider-man x deadpool; marvel

word count: 3301

request?: no

description: in which the merc with the mouth meets the friendly neighborhood spider, and surprisingly, sparks fly

pairing: ryan reynolds!deadpool x andrew garfield!spiderman

warnings: swearing, lil angsty, mentions of death (mainly gwen and vanessa), wade being wade basically

masterlist (one, two, three)

Peter’s time in a different universe put a lot of things in perspective for him. Mainly that he needed to stop feeling guilty over Gwen’s death and trying exact some sort of vengeance on something or someone that didn’t exist. Helping the other Peters and getting to hear their own stories of the losses they went through made him realize it was time to move on and get back to doing what he did best: being a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

That’s why he had a police radio in his room again. He listened in for any small crimes happening; robberies, car chases, even a bar brawl once. He didn’t want to deal with any mask or cape type crimes just yet. He was still tryin to work his way back to the bigger stuff after Gwen, and his time with the other Peters. So far, though, there hadn’t been any reports of any spandex type crime happening.

The day that there finally was drew Peter’s attention.

He was pulling on his suit to pursue a bank robbery when the voice of a police officer came over the radio, “Boss, there’s a man in a red suit on the scene.”

Peter paused, his mask ready to be pulled over his face.

“Spider-Man?” came a hopeful response. Peter was surprised with how happy the police were to have him back on the streets.

“No,” came the voice of the first officer. “It’s someone else. Red and black suit instead of red and blue. He’s entering the bank.”

“One of the robbers?”

“Unsure.”

Peter didn’t realize he had been approaching the radio until he was stood right next to it, waiting with baited breath to hear more about this unknown masked assailant.

It couldn’t have been either of the Peters he already met, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a version of Spider-Man. No one else knew about the multiverse like Peter did, so he couldn’t just take the word of this officer that it wasn’t a Spider-Man.

Suddenly, the officer’s voice filled the room, calling, “Shots fired! Red suit is opening fire!”

Wasting no more time, Peter pulled on his mask and leapt from his bedroom window.

He was sailing over the city with such urgency that he made it to the bank in a matter of seconds. He could see the police cars parked in front of the bank, several police stood with their guns aimed at the bank. He wondered why they hadn’t entered the building after hearing the gun shots.

He dropped in front of the bank just in time for the doors to open and the hostages to rush out of the building.

“Is everyone okay?” Peter asked as they rushed past him. “Is anyone hurt? Where are the robbers?”

Instead of the hostages responding, the unknown masked man exited the bank, putting his guns back into his holsters. “Fear not, people of New York! I have taken care of your bank robbers! No need to thank me, but if you must, I take keys to the city as payment.”

His eyes landed on Peter. For some reason, Peter found himself standing up straighter under his gaze.

The whites of the unknown man’s mask’s eyes widened. “Whoa. Spider-Man. What an honor!”

“Uh...thanks?” Peter said.

“Which one are you? Maguire or Holland?”

“What?”

“Oh! I got it! The suit, it’s Garfield. I should’ve known, but Sony really fucked you over so can you blame me?”

“What are you talking about?” Peter asked. “Who are you?”

“They call me Deadpool. But you, tiger, can call me anytime.”

Peter was just more confused. He had never heard of a “Deadpool” before. The voice didn’t seem familiar either. All signs were pointing to this being a new hero...or maybe something else. Peter wasn’t sure if heroes tended to saunter into banks and shoot robbers dead before the policer could intervene.

But before anyone could further question this “Deadpool”, he took off. The police yelled at him to stop, but he kept going, ignoring their calls. It took Peter a second to realize, then he started to chase after him. Deadpool took a hard left, disappearing between a few buildings. When Peter turned to go after him, he had vanished.

What the hell was all of that?

~~~~~~

Fir the first few days after the bank robbery, Peter was constantly on the look out for Deadpool. He listened in on his police radio for more frequently, and he did extra patrols over the city in hopes of spotting the masked man. When all attempts came up null, he eventually gave up. He figured maybe this guy had been some wannabe hero who changed his mind after the bank robbery.

For the most part, Peter was able to forget about Deadpool. Until he walked into his apartment one evening to find a man sat at his desk, feet kicked up next to the police radio. He was in the red suit Peter had been looking for for weeks, except his mask was off this time, revealing a scarred face and head.

“You don’t do a good job with hiding this,” he said, nodding to the radio. “What do you tell people it’s for? True crime podcast?”

“What are you doing here?” Peter asked.

“Oh good, you’re not gonna do the whole pretending your not Spider-Man act.”

Peter winced, realizing his mistake.

Deadpool swung his legs off of Peter’s desk and stood. “Alright, let’s get to the formalities, but for real this time. My name is Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool. I’m from a different universe, which I know sounds crazy - ”

“No,” Peter cut him off. “Trust me, I know all about the multiverse.”

“Oh. Well then, that makes all of this easy.”

“How did you find me?” Peter asked. “How do you even know I’m Spider-Man?”

“We had a Spider-Man in my universe,” Wade explained. “He was killed in a fight with Kingpen’s men. They revealed his identity was a man named Peter Parker.”

“And you assumed that meant every Spider-Man is Peter Parker?”

“You know about the multiverse. Do you know any universes where Spider-Man isn’t Peter Parker?”

Okay, he had a point there. “Although Peter was sure there were others who donned the Spider-Man mask besides a Peter Parker, he had no proof of that to counter Wade’s argument.

“So, why did you come looking for me?” Peter asked.

Wade shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not every day you meet another man in a red suit. I thought, maybe, you’d want to team up. Be two men in red suits fighting crime and whatnot.”

“You don’t plan on going back to your own universe?”

Wade shrugged again, except his shoulders seemed to sag a bit more when they dropped down again. “Not really. I - uh - don’t have anything to go back to there.”

There was definitely something there. Peter wasn’t in any place to push Wade for an explanation. They were still basically strangers. But after his tryst through the multiverse, he wanted to know what would make someone not want to return to their home. Even he wanted to go back, and his life had still been in recovery from Gwen’s death at the time.

Instead of prying, though, Peter asked, “Won’t your doctor wizard guy send you back eventually?”

“Oh, I don’t have a doctor wizard guy. I mean, we do, but he’s a British detective who solves crimes with a hobbit. I got here with a time travel watch that I figured out how to use to travel universes, too. It’s all very macguffin.”

Peter crossed his arms. He had never had a partner before. He never really needed one. And it was evident that Wade operated differently in his superhero-ing than Peter did. But, at the same time, he had enjoyed being a team with the other Peters. It was lonely being Spider-Man sometimes.

Finally, he said, “Maybe we could...try working together. See how it goes.”

Wade clapped his hands and, quite literally, did a jump for joy. He rushed for Peter and threw his arms around the younger man. Peter felt his face light on fire when Wade’s lips touched his cheek, planting a big kiss on him.

“You won’t regret this,” Wade assured him.

“We’ll see,” Peter muttered.

~~~~~~

For the most part, their partnership wasn’t too bad of an idea. They had exchanged numbers so they could keep in touch. Peter said whenever he heard of something go on over his radio, he’d call or text Wade, but most times Wade also knew when it was happening. Peter found out very quickly that it was no use telling Wade not to deal with criminals his way - which usually involved guns and swords and death or near death - because he was going to do it anyways.

People were talking about the new team. A lot of back and forth on whether or not Deadpool was actually a hero. The Daily Bugle had already taken the story of a mouthy anti-hero whose idea of “justice” involved a lot of injury and/or death and twisted it to make Spider-Man look bad. It was the first time in ages that Peter had heard from Jameson wanting pictures of both Spider-Man and Deadpool. If Peter didn’t need the money, he probably would’ve told Jameson exactly where to go and how to get there.

On one quiet night, Peter was perched on top of a building, watching the city below him. He always loved doing this. There was something kind of peaceful about just watching the city come to life below him, hearing only a dull murmur of the hustle and bustle.

“You’re looking very Batman,” came the all too familiar voice of Peter’s new teammate. “Like you’re about to descend upon a clown and ask him where Rachel is.”

Peter rolled his eyes, although he knew Wade couldn’t see it. He was also glad that the mask hid his smile.

Peter had grown very fond of Wade. Not that he would ever tell Wade that; it might inflate his already inflated ego a bit too much. But Peter couldn’t lie and say he didn’t view Wade as a friend now, as someone who brought Peter genuine joy even when they were bickering while fighting crime. 

“Just taking a moment to admire the city,” Peter told Wade. “You don’t get this a lot in New York. Not when there’s always crime to be fought.”

Wade walked up to where Peter was sat and looked over at the city below. “Wow. Yeah, you’re right. This is beautiful.”

“Where did you live in your universe?” Peter asked. Even though they had been working together for some time now, Peter still didn’t know too much about Wade’s life before arriving in this universe.

“I’m from Canada originally,” Wade replied. “But I moved to the States after I was discharged from the military. A lot easier to be a mercenary in a place where people don’t say sorry when you bump into them.”

Peter’s head quickly moved to look at Wade. “You were a mercenary? Like a hitman?”

“Basically like that, yeah. Don’t give me that look, tarantula man. The only difference in being in the Forces and being a mercenary is that I got paid better and I didn’t get PTSD from being a mercenary. Besides, I didn’t always kill my victims. Leaving them intimidated did the job just as well.”

Peter couldn’t picture Wade as being intimidating. Wade talked too much, had too much of a sarcastic demeanor. Although, if someone is threatening your life, then anyone could be intimidating he guessed.

“Is that why you came here?” Peter asked. “Because the mercenary stuff didn’t work out?”

Wade tensed. Peter knew he had hit a nerve. He had refrained from asking about Wade’s previous comment about having nothing to go back to his own universe for. It seemed to be a sore subject, and if Wade wasn’t going to bring it up himself then Peter wasn’t going to push. He was only asking now because it felt like Wade was opening up enough to slowly approach the topic. But now Peter was regretting it.

“It’s something like that,” Wade said. His voice was suddenly very serious, something that Peter wasn’t used to from Wade.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Peter said. “It seems like something personal, I shouldn’t push or anything.”

Wade, who had been wearing his full suit as well, pulled off his mask so that Peter could see his face. It was very hard, serious. But upon looking a little closer, Peter could see that there were tears forming along Wade’s lash lines. Peter pulled off his mask as well, feeling as though the two of them were being vulnerable enough not to have the fabric between them right now.

“While in America,” Wade began, “working as a mercenary, I met this woman. Her name was Vanessa. She was a...lady of the night, to put it in Marvel’s PG terms. It started out as some fun for pay, but eventually we did fall in love. I asked her to marry me. I thought I was going to spend my whole life with her. Then I found out I had cancer, that I was dying, and I did something stupid that led me to become...well, this.” He gestured to his scarred face. “I thought she’d never love me again because I was so hideous. But I was wrong, and she did still want to be with me.”

Peter smiled. “She sounds like a great person.”

Wade nodded, the tears becoming more obvious. “She was...until I got her killed.”

Suddenly, everything fell into place for Peter. Wade didn’t need to tell him anything else, because he had already lived this story.

“I let a target get away because it was mine and Vanessa’s anniversary,” Wade continued anyways. “And I was already late. I killed all his other men and he locked himself in a panic room and I just couldn’t wait anymore. I let him go, just for him to find me and Vanessa and...and I couldn’t stop him before...”

Wade hung his head and his shoulders shook as he sobbed. Peter felt a stab of empathy for the older man. He knew exactly what this felt like; to lose the person you love more than anything and for it to be your own fault.

Peter reached over to put his hand on Wade’s. Wade jolted a little, as if he forgot that Peter was there. He lifted his head so that Peter could see his tearstained cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” Peter said, his voice soft. “I know what it’s like. My girlfriend...I was the reason she died, too. It...it fucked me up for a very long time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Wade said. “Has it gotten any easier?”

Peter wanted to say yes, because he wanted to believe that himself. But the truth was, even though he had gotten back to his normal self for the most part, and even though Wade had been a perfect distraction, Peter still dreamed about Gwen. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her terrified face as she plummeted to her death. Every time he woke with a start and would lay awake for hours trying to forgive himself for what had happened.

So he answered honestly, “No. They say it will eventually, but I don’t think the pain ever completely goes away.”

Wade nodded, and mumbled a soft, “Yeah.” He seemed to be talking to himself more than Peter, though.

Peter looked down at their joined hands. He hadn’t realized that a comforting pat had turned into him holding Wade’s hand. It didn’t seem like Wade noticed either, or maybe he just didn’t mind. Peter’s face felt hot despite the cool New York air that was blowing against it. He wasn’t sure why the thought of holding Wade’s hand was making him feel a little embarrassed. Or maybe embarrassed wasn’t the right word. He didn’t actually feel embarrassed, but why else would he be blushing?

“You good over there, Spidey?”

Peter snapped out of his thoughts to look at Wade. “What? Yeah.”

Wade gave him a look. “You seem...deep in thought.”

“What? No! No, not at all. Just...no.”

Wade’s smug smile was back on his face. He pulled away from Peter, and Peter found himself a little disappointed when his hand was empty again.

“Well, I guess that’s enough emotion for tonight,” Wade said. “Thanks for letting me trauma dump. Therapies too expensive these days, and being a crime fighter doesn’t come with any sort of insurance.”

Peter swung his legs around to hop back onto the roof. “Yeah, anytime. And, if it helps any, I...I’ve been really enjoying your company.”

Wade turned to look at Peter. “Really?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t going to say anything because I didn’t want to inflate your ego or anything, but it’s been nice to have a partner. You...you have helped me take my mind off of Gwen since we started working together.”

“You’ve helped me, too,” Wade admitted. “Honestly, until tonight, I haven’t thought about Vanessa as much. I mean, I still have dreams about her.”

Peter nodded. “Those don’t ever go away.”

“I figured they wouldn’t. But I have enjoyed this partnership. I think it’s been really beneficial for the both of us.”

“I do, too.”

The two of them fell silent, just standing there, facing one another. Peter wasn’t sure what the next step was here. What he did know was that it felt like he couldn’t move. He was paralyzed in place, just facing Wade. Wade seemed to almost be studying Peter for some reason.

Next thing Peter knew, Wade had his hands on Peter’s face and was pulling him in. His brain could hardly comprehend the action before he felt Wade’s lips on his.

Peter’s first reaction was to push Wade away, but his body reacted different. His lips moved to kiss Wade back instead, which shocked himself. Peter had only ever been with women before. Well, actually, he had only ever been with Gwen. He had never even entertained the idea of being with a man before. But there was something about kissing Wade that felt...right.

Wade pulled away first, which came as a shock to Peter.

“Sorry,” Wade said. “Got caught up in the moment there.”

“Oh, no. Don’t apologize. That’s...it was alright.”

“Yeah?” Peter nodded. “Jesus, I feel like a fucking high schooler again.”

Peter laughed. “Yeah, I feel that. I haven’t felt awkward like this since I was trying to ask out one of the cheerleaders at my school.”

“You asked out a cheerleader?”

“Tried. I wimped out and ran away like a total loser before I could even say her name.” Peter chuckled at the memory. “She would’ve said no anyways, so maybe the way I handled it was less humiliating.”

Wade chuckled as well. “Look, we’re both still going through some trauma. It may be a little too soon to try and find something else, but whenever you’re ready, I’d really like to take you to pound town.”

Peter screwed up his face. “That’s...romantic.”

“Hey, I’m just being honest. I’d like a relationship, but also I’ve seen your ass in those spandex and it’s made my pants a little tighter.”

Peter’s face was on fire again. It was enough to make Wade laugh. Peter quickly pulled his mask back on to hide himself.

“I think I’ve mostly handled my grief,” he told Wade. “But I understand needing time. I think, whenever you’re ready, I would like to see where this could go between us.”

Wade nodded. “That sounds like a deal to me.”

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Expect grammatical errors. Not 100% accurate.

In Benitoite, where diplomatic relations are thriving, various rumors from different countries always circulate around.

I normally let it pass through one ear and out the other, but the moment I heard a particular rumor, I headed to that person's room to find out the truth.

Emma: "Prince Silvio, are the rumors true that you're meeting someone in the court every night?"

Silvio: "Who are you talking about? Don't let the rumors get to you."

Emma: "Hey! Don't mess up my hair!"

Silvio: "You say night after night, but I'm with you most nights."

Emma: "I know. That's why I'm even more curious."

Emma: "Why are these rumors going around?"

Silvio: "Rumors are everywhere here in Benitoite."

Silvio: "Someone probably assumed it was me and blew the whole thing out of proportion."

Silvio: "Rumors can be that vague and suspicious."

(I guess that's true. Besides, he's a prince, so rumors like that are inevitable.)

(But "meeting someone every night" is too specific to be just a rumor.)

Emma: "Don't you hate it when people misunderstand you一Waah!?"

Suddenly, my vision shifted, and his sea-colored eyes drew closer.

Silvio: "You're such a blabbermouth. Do you really want me to shut you up that bad?"

Emma: "Nn..."

Without question, his lips crashed against mine, and he roughly pushed his tongue in, stirring my mouth.

After taking all my breath away, he pulled back.

Silvio: "Stop thinking about rumors when I'm right in front of you."

Emma: "Stop being jealous of rumors."

Silvio: "I'm not jealous. I'm dissatisfied."

Emma: “It’s the same...Nn...ahh.”

(I feel like I’m being misled somehow.)

As if to interrupt my words, he sealed my lips again, and I had no choice but to surrender to the kisses that sweetly melted even my thoughts.

A few days later一

I was waiting in front of a door in a corner of the castle, unnoticed.

(Rio told me this was the place. I didn’t know there was a room here.)

After that, I casually told Rio about the rumor.

------------Flashback------------

Rio: “I’m going to check it out secretly!”

Rio: “Leave it to me.”

---------Flashback Ends---------

(Thanks to him, I’m one step closer to the truth.)

(I wonder if that rumor really has something to do with Silvio.)

This secluded place, where no one was passing by, was the perfect spot for a secret meeting.

(He apparently entered the room a while ago, so who knows if someone will come in or out.)

I waited and waited, unable to imagine what kind of revelations awaited me.

Then, suddenly, the sound of a door unlocking echoed through the quiet hallway.

(Now!)

I rushed to the door and quickly slipped my foot through the gap.

Silvio: “Emma!? Why are you...? The rumor!”

Emma: "I'm sorry. I got curious, but it's because you're hiding something from me."

Emma: "..........."

I gasped in surprise, seeing what was inside through the doorway.

Emma: "Prince Silvio."

Silvio: "You ain't seen nothing."

Emma: "I can see it. Huh? What's that thing over there?"

Silvio: "Ah, damn it. Now that you've seen everything, I guess I have no choice. Get in!"

Emma: "Whoa!?"

He forcibly dragged me into the room.

(I really am not seeing things.)

The bracelet I had given him for Christmas was displayed like a treasure.

Not only that but the wrappings and ribbons from the gifts I'd given in the past were also meticulously displayed.

Emma: "What is this room?"

Emma: "From what I can see, only the things I've given you are displayed."

I glanced up at him and saw him furrowing his eyebrows, his face slightly blushing.

Silvio: "It’s what it looks like. Don't bother saying it."

(He kept my gifts carefully.)

(Even the wrappings.)

I didn't believe the rumors, but the moment I learned the truth, all the tension instantly disappeared, and my heart slowly warmed.

As my face naturally relaxed, I also felt embarrassed about the situation in this room.

Emma: "Even the wrappings and small boxes are displayed splendidly."

Silvio: "It's my gift. I'll do whatever I want with what's mine."

Emma: "Do you always display this bracelet here as well?"

Silvio: "I don't want to use it daily and get it damaged."

Silvio: "I wear it as a lucky charm when I travel, but otherwise, I display it here."

Silvio: "Tch, don't make me say it."

Emma: "I'm sorry. Fufu."

Silvio: "Don't laugh."

Emma: "Please let it slide."

I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming love.

(That's so like him.)

I was so happy that I was about to look around the room again when he stood in my way and pinched my cheek.

Emma: "What are you doing?"

Silvio: "Wipe that smirk off your face."

Emma: "You're the one making me一Nnn..."

(Too deep!!)

The sudden, intense kiss made me want to run away, but his arms were firmly wrapped around my waist, leaving me unable to move.

I desperately stood on shaky legs, and when our lips finally parted, he looked down at me with a satisfied expression.

Silvio: "That's your punishment for forcing your way into my treasury."

Silvio: "Well, this ain't enough."

(His face got even redder when he said "treasury" himself.)

My heart leaped with joy at his sincere words, and my lips naturally opened.

Emma: "I'm happy you took such good care of my gifts."

Emma: "I'll continue to give you gifts so that this treasury of yours will become even more vibrant."

Emma: "Please look forward to it."

Silvio: "Make sure you'll do it because I only want you and only you."

The lewd sound of kissing echoed through the room.

The truth behind the rumors was a love filled with infinite sweetness.

✥ Ikepri Masterlist

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

How would the first years sees a female yuu practice ballet in a empty classroom that supposed to be abandoned? How would their reaction would be?

If you guys haven’t seen the movie “Leap!” (also known as “Dance!”), I highly recommend watching it since it involves ballet and I really enjoyed watching it! Equestrian vaulting is also absolutely stunning to watch in action, which in a way looks like a mix of gymnastics and ballet. I’ve never done ballet before, but I once did equestrian vaulting when I went to horseback riding camp years ago. It was fun—if a little nerve-wracking doing it on the back of one of the largest horse breeds the stable owned. Good times though! Would attempt again! :D

Anyway, let’s see how the monster boys will react to this~! >v>

////------////

Grim was already aware of Yuu’s skill as a ballet dancer, having seen her dance whenever they clean the dorm. From using the tips of her toes to spin and swipe across the tiled floors to the jumps and leaps she made to reach high places without landing heavily, Grim would watch it in awe. More than once he has stopped whatever he’s doing to watch, especially when music is playing. The soft melodies and fluid movements would make him sway almost hypnotically in place, while the quick tempos and swift movements got his blood pumping as he bounced and tried to dance along—even if it wound up with him tripping up the first few times, but he learned! 

His favorite moments are the times when she would scoop him into her arms and dance with him, feeling as though he were lighter than air. Who needs a broom when he had Yuu? It was the best thing ever for the Great Grim’s human henchman to be so talented if he said so!

Of course, when it came to explaining Yuu’s ability to the other freshmen, words failed to convey just how impressive her dancing skills were and none of the others had ever seen her dance. None of the videos that Ace found online could match her grace or the flexibility she demonstrated--until he finally had enough and demanded they follow him: “I know where she likes to go practice during breaks!”

And so, thinking it was just another tall tale from the chimera, the other first years agreed to follow him for the time being and out of pure curiosity. When they drew closer to the unoccupied auditorium, however, they began to hear…music. “Shh…be quiet, or she’ll stop,” Grim warned them in a hushed whisper, turning to carefully nudge the door open wide enough for everyone to peer inside without exposing themselves.

Whatever quip Ace had in store died on his lips as he stared, watching as Yuu’s legs bent before she raised one high up in the air while balancing on the tip of her other leg, her arms stretched out in a graceful “L” shape. Somehow, she looked as still as a statue, making him wonder just how strong her legs were to be able to hold that pose. “Whoa…how is she even doing that?” he uttered in amazement, watching her smoothly transition into a slow sweeping twirl.

“Guys, if she’s dancing alone in a classroom, she may not want us to watch,” Deuce whispered, the centaur momentarily wincing when he saw her legs bend in ways he knew he could never pull off without injuring himself. Still, he couldn’t look away, his eyes watching intently as he eventually asked, “Can…humans really move like that?”

“Her movements are so fluid,” Jack commented, ears twitching as he found himself relaxing. There was something soothing about seeing her dance so gracefully, yet even from here he could see the power in her movements—restrained, yet clear as day with each step and twirl and bend and high kick. “Is this some form of martial arts from the human world?”

“Naw…it looks like tha’ ballet thin’ Vil—I mean…it looks like the ballet Vil has me and the other first years practice in the ball room,” Epel commented. As much as he hated being forced to do it…he found that it looked different watching Yuu perform. He knew he’d never be able to do half the movements she could with the way his legs were designed—but there was also a certain satisfaction in realizing that even Vil wouldn’t be able to mimic the same fluid grace or expect the same out of the others.

When a new song began to play, a gasp escaped Sebek before Jack and Epel covered his mouth. Though it was hard for them to not feel just as stunned the moment Yuu leapt atop the desks, spinning and jumping up from desk to desk in time to the rhythm until she reached the highest point. Her body moved with a grace and power that he’d never seen before, her expression—though calm—betraying the smile on her face as she continued her performance for the imaginary crowd. At one point she stopped, her back towards the door as she stood and shuffled backwards on the tips of her toes. Before he or the others could warn her how close she was to the edge of the desk—she leapt!

Time seemed to slow down, her body rising high in the air as—with her legs bent and curved—she spun in the air before straightening her legs out into an impossible split, soaring through the air. Then—as if lighter than a feather—she landed right in front of the podium at the very bottom and stood straight just as the music stopped, turning and bowing gracefully at the “audience”.

“Whoa!! That was amazing!” Deuce exclaimed.

Yuu gasped as she turned towards the doors, her face showing clear embarrassment and shock as she squeaked out, “Wha-? Deuce?!”

“Oops!” Deuce uttered, hands clamped over his mouth as he realized just how loud he’d actually been.

“Scramble!!” Ace yelled.

“Guys!!!” Yuu screeched as they bolted. “Get back here!!”

 /////------/////

Soon enough word spread around about Yuu’s dancing prowess, and it wasn’t long after that Cater and the others would come asking for a demonstration of this performance as well. After all, human dancing hasn’t been recorded in centuries—it was a once in a lifetime opportunity to observe (and record) such practices and seeing how humans could move! If Yuu has any knowledge on other forms of traditional dance, it would become a treasure trove of cultural knowledge to unlock and study the significance of the moves and the traditional garments worn by dancers!

[mimisempai]

You're the only light in my blurry world 5/10

Chapter summary

After Aziraphale's straightforward demand, Crowley wonders why the bookseller is attracted to him. Is it because Crowley is the only person whose features he can recognize?

On Ao3

Masterpost for this fic : here

"You remember this?"

As if Crowley could forget a guy who knocked over his easel by standing up abruptly while introducing himself. 

Crowley chuckled before replying, "You're hard to forget, you know?"

Aziraphale replied with an adorable, embarrassed chuckle, then looked up at Crowley, and Crowley saw a gleam in his friend's eyes that he hadn't seen before.

A kind of determination.

The man he had found amusing, then interesting over the weekend had just shown him an incredible vulnerability, had bared his heart to Crowley simply because he did not want to lose this bond he had with him.

Now it was up to him to take the step to Aziraphale.

"Crowley, would you like to go out with me?"

What?

That was what he had wanted to say.

Did he hear it right?

"What?"

Immediately, he saw Aziraphale's gaze lose its determination as he began to fidget before stammering, "Uh... well... I like you a lot, and finally..."

Crowley raised his hands and interrupted, "Whoa, whoa, easy, time out!"

Aziraphale's face shut down and Crowley hurriedly continued, "No, wait, it's just that this is going a little too fast, okay? That doesn't mean I'm rejecting you, far from it, but... slow down a bit, will you? This is a lot of information for my brain, but I'm not saying no, okay? Got it?"

Aziraphale just nodded, looking a bit confused.

"Let-let me just get this straight. You just told me that you have this condition that makes you not recognize faces. You have an ex-boyfriend who dumped you because of it, and by some twist of fate or whatever, I'm the only one whose face you've recognized since your accident."

Aziraphale chuckled and replied, "I think you've summed it up perfectly, so-"

Crowley interrupted, "Do you even know why you want to go out with me?"

"Huh?"

"Well, it's like you're drowning and I'm the only life preserver floating near you. Kind of like you have no other choice. I don't want to be a consolation prize."

It was true, how could he be sure that the fact that Aziraphale could recognize his face wasn't the only reason he wanted to go out with him. After all, even though their relationship had evolved quite a bit over the past few days, they barely knew each other.

"Crowley..."

Aziraphale had placed his hand on top of his and continued, "Is the fact that I recognize your face what drew me to you? Of course it was. I can't deny that. But, Crowley, over the past few days, I've come to realize that in addition to being handsome on the outside..."

Crowley cut him off, cheeks flushed, "Seriously, you should come with a warning, where's your shyness gone?"

Aziraphale chuckled softly and replied, "That's part of what I'm saying. It's not because I can see you that I want to go out with you, but because what I perceived of you this weekend made me want to be closer than you, more than friends. My shyness has disappeared partly because we are in my safe space and partly because I feel safe with you."

Crowley, moved, saw him swallow several times, and Aziraphal's voice was clearly filled with emotion as he continued, "This weekend I was able to get closer to you, to get to know you, and even though I know we still have a lot to learn about each other, I was able to see who you are, and what was at first just an attraction based on looks has become deeper. You have been patient with me, despite my quirks, trying to get to know me. Crowley, if I suddenly couldn't see your face, I wouldn't care. I don't need to see it to know that I want more. Besides, you know when I told myself I wanted more with you?"

Crowley shook his head.

Aziraphale continued, "It has nothing to do with your physical appearance. It's when you fell asleep on my shoulder on the bus. James was my first and only lover. With him you always had to hide because he didn't come out. So no public displays of affection, nothing to give away our relationship. And here you are, falling asleep against me. No matter how it could be interpreted. And I told myself that I wanted to be able to walk hand in hand with you, to be able to kiss you when I wanted to, all those things. It doesn't matter if I see your face or not. I mean, I'm happy to see it, but it doesn't affect how I feel about you. My feelings came later when I started to see more of you, of who you are. But I also understand that for you... I mean, it's complicated, I know, and if you tell me that you want us to be just friends, I'll accept that."

"Really? You'd accept it like that?"

Aziraphale shrugged, "Well, what could I change about it?"

Crowley gently placed his hands on the other man's shoulders and replied, "If we're going to do this, you and I, there's one thing you're going to have to stop doing.

Aziraphale, confused, asked, "What?"

"Stop reacting to what you think other people want, in this case, what you think I want. As you just did, you immediately assumed that I don't want this relationship because of your condition and what that means or could mean, and immediately put yourself in a position of acceptance."

Aziraphale bowed his head and muttered, "I'm not used to that. It wasn't like that with J-"

Crowley grabbed his chin and pulled his face up, "First, stop looking at the floor. Second, I don't care about James. Sorry, but he is an idiot as far as I'm concerned. You have every right to want or wish things, your condition doesn't change that. If we're going to do this, you and I, I want a full Aziraphale, not a half one who holds back because he thinks that's what I want. I'm an adult with my own will, if I don't want something I'll say so, if you don't want something you'll say so, we'll discuss it and move on. Okay?"

Aziraphale nodded, then said quietly, "If we are in a relationship."

Crowley let go of his chin and replied, "I admit the if is more rhetorical than anything else. To be honest, I was going to ask you the same thing, but you beat me to it. Let's take it easy though. This isn't a race, and it would be a shame to ruin it by rushing into it. Besides, you owe me a first date."

Crowley saw Aziraphale's face light up with a huge grin and couldn't help himself, "Ah, there it is. You're so much cuter when you smile, you know?"

He watched in delight as his soon-to-be lover's cheeks colored slightly.

Aziraphale replied, "How should I know? I've forgotten my own face, you know? I can't see it in the mirror anymore."

"Oh, wow...is it that bad?"

Crowley was just beginning to realize all that Aziraphale's condition entailed, but he didn't want it to bring his lover down, so he said, a mischievous little smile on his lips, "That's too bad, because you're a feast for the eyes."

Aziraphale's cheeks turned even redder, but he didn't let it get to him and playfully replied, "So my looks are the reason you want to go out with me?" 

Crowley, happy to see him so relaxed, replied in the same tone, "Hey, after all, it's my looks that attracted you in the first place, you just said so."

Suddenly, his eyes slipped to the wall clock and he exclaimed, "Oh crap, it's that time already, I gotta go or I'll be late for my class."

He stood up quickly and spoke at full speed, "What do you say we meet... uh wait, tomorrow's not possible, it's the busiest day and there's a meeting so... wait..."

He took out his phone and started scrolling through his calendar.

"How about dinner after the art course on Thursday?"

Crowley looked up from his phone and exclaimed, "Perfect. Where?"

"I don't know, we'll just have to discuss it on the phone until then."

"But I don't have your number."

Aziraphale held out his hand and confused Crowley didn't immediately understand.

"Your phone."

Crowley handed it to him and Aziraphale typed quickly before handing it back, "There, you've got my number now."

"Great. Well, I really have to go."

He started to walk towards the door of the bookshop and when he turned just before leaving, he almost stumbled because Aziraphale was close behind him.

"I'm sorry to leave like this, I-"

Aziraphale shook his head, "Nonsense, don't be sorry. I understand. Come on, don't be late."

Crowley nodded, then turned to leave. 

He turned his head one last time and said, "I'm writing to discuss our dinner!"

Aziraphale laughed slightly, waved his hand as if to chase him away and said, "Yes, yes! Go on now."

Crowley started to walk away, but couldn't resist and turned his head one last time.

Aziraphale was still standing in the doorway of the bookshop, waving his hand.

Crowley muttered, "Oh fuck!"

Crowley ran back, stopped in front of Aziraphale, and said, "I can't leave just like this."

"Huh?"

Crowley cupped Aziraphale's face in his hands and planted a quick kiss on his lips before saying, "In case you had any doubts, I'm 100% into this relationship."

He gave hime a second kiss, a little longer this time, before stepping back and saying, "See you Thursday."

Then, this time, he walked away without looking back.

Aziraphale followed him with his eyes until he disappeared around the corner. Then, as he turned to enter the bookshop, he couldn't help but touch his lips.

"Oh, no, no, no! Mr. Fell, you're not going to lock yourself in your bookshop without telling Aunt Nina and Aunt Maggie everything!

Recognizing Nina's voice, Aziraphale turned to see that she was here with Maggie.

He replied, "I see the Whickber Street gossip mode has kicked in."

Nina replied, "Well, it started in my coffee shop, so don't come complaining.

Maggie continued, "And what a surprise for me to see our friend Crowley walk by my shop, stop and run back to you and end up kissing you in front of everyone. So don't complain. You're the one feeding the gossip, Mr. Bookseller."

"So tell us all!"

"I don't kiss and tell."

Nina approached him and said cheekily, "Technically, he's the one who kissed you, so..."

Aziraphale laughed and Maggie insisted, "Come on, tell us. Just a little."

The bookseller replied, "Okay, but over lunch because I'm starving."

"We'll buy you lunch!"

Maggie and Nina moved to his side and put their arms under his, saying, "Justine's. That way the gossip stays on the street."

Aziraphale, amused, allowed himself to be drawn in. For a moment, he regretted not being able to see the faces of his friends, if only to see their expressions, but he put that aside.

The warmth in their voices, their hands under his arm, was enough to make him understand the affection they had for him.

As the three of them sat happily chatting on the terrace of Marguerite's, Aziraphale realized for the first time since he'd opened his eyes in the hospital after his accident that he could be happy despite his condition.

His phone vibrated in his pocket; curious, he pulled it out and saw a message from an unknown number.

He slid his thumb across the screen to read it.

I'm looking forward to Thursday.

PS: You're even more beautiful after being kissed.

xx 

C.

Received 11:15 am

Crowley.

Aziraphale's heart beat a little faster, and he couldn't help but blush as he put the phone back in his pocket. Looking up, he saw that Nina and Maggie had their heads on their hands, their faces turned toward him.

Nina said teasingly, "You know, you're really going to have to tell us everything now."

Aziraphale realized that he didn't mind, because it was good to have caring friends to share his happiness with.

So he began his story, "This morning, when I went to meet Crowley at the coffee shop..."

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

[zapreportsblog]

↱ twin suns ↰

➘ summary : yuga aoyama is more happier than his usual self, wonder why?

➘ a/n : just some wholesome content

➘ yuga aoyama x sister reader

The classroom buzzed with activity as Class 1-A settled in for another day of hero training. Among the students, Yuga Aoyama seemed to radiate an even brighter energy than usual, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Hey, Yuga, what's got you all hyped up?" Kirishima asked with a grin, leaning over his desk to catch Yuga's attention.

Yuga practically beamed as he leaned in to share his news. "Guess what, everyone? My older sister is coming back from overseas today!"

His announcement garnered the attention of his classmates, and soon, curious faces turned towards him.

"Your sister?" Ochaco echoed, her curiosity piqued. "Tell us more!"

Yuga's grin widened, and he enthusiastically shared, "Her name is (y/n), and her quirk is just like mine! Well, sort of. She shoots lasers from her eyes! That's why she always wears those special sunglasses. They shield her eyes from the lasers but also help her see her surroundings and other people!"

Kaminari's eyes lit up. "Lasers from her eyes? That's pretty cool!"

"Yeah, like superhero stuff!" Sero added, his enthusiasm mirroring Yuga's.

Excitement buzzed around the classroom, everyone except Katsuki catching onto Yuga's contagious joy. Even the normally stoic Todoroki looked intrigued.

"Will she be coming to the school to see you?" Todoroki inquired, his expression softening.

Yuga's smile faltered slightly as he shook his head. "Nah, unfortunately not this time. She'll be picked up by our parents and taken home."

The atmosphere in the room was a mix of excitement and anticipation as Yuga's news sank in. His family's unique quirks had always intrigued his classmates, and now, the prospect of meeting his sister who shared his distinctive abilities was an exciting thought.

As the day's lessons continued, the thought of Yuga's sister lingered in the minds of Class 1-A. They couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie and excitement, ready to welcome a fellow student's family member into their extended hero family.

The next day, the U.A. dormitory was buzzing with students going about their morning routines. Yuga Aoyama, as usual, was his exuberant self, chatting animatedly with his classmates. But little did he know, a surprise was about to unfold that would leave everyone in awe.

As Yuga's friends chatted with him, a car pulled up outside the dormitory building. The door swung open, and out stepped a familiar figure – a girl with a vibrant aura that seemed to match Yuga's own energy. With a pair of special sunglasses perched on her nose, (y/n) Aoyama stepped out, her smile as bright as the sun.

Mr. Aizawa, their usually drowsy teacher, stood beside her with his usual deadpan expression. "Yuga, your sister's here," he stated in his monotone voice.

Yuga's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and delight flooding his features. "My sister?!" he exclaimed, his voice reaching new heights of excitement.

As (y/n) walked towards him, her steps infused with the same enthusiasm as her brother's, the air seemed to shimmer with their combined energy. Their personalities were like twin suns, each radiating a brilliant light that drew everyone's attention.

"Whoa, they're like sparkling stars," Ochaco whispered to Tsuyu, her awe evident.

Tsuyu nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's like they bring their own sunshine with them."

Mina's eyes widened as she shielded her face from the brightness. "Their auras are so intense, it's blinding!"

Mintea, sitting a few feet away, rubbed his eyes dramatically. "MY EYES!"

Meanwhile, Yuga and (y/n) met in a joyful embrace, their energy colliding like fireworks. "I can't believe you're here!" Yuga exclaimed, his voice bubbling over with happiness.

"(Y/n)" echoed her brother, her voice carrying the same vibrant enthusiasm.

Their reunion was a sight to behold, a burst of positivity that seemed to infuse the entire area. The students and faculty couldn't help but be drawn into their magnetic energy, the air around them charged with excitement.

As they embraced, (y/n) finally removed her special sunglasses, revealing her own sparkling eyes that matched Yuga's. The brightness of their auras seemed to amplify, illuminating their connection and their shared joy.

And so, as the moment unfolded, (y/n) and Yuga Aoyama shone like twin stars in the sky, lighting up the dormitory with their energy. The world around them seemed to fade away as their reunion created a radiant aura that couldn't be ignored, even by the comedic complaints of a certain Mintea. It was a moment of pure happiness and connection, a testament to the power of family and the bonds that brought light to even the darkest corners of their world.

[the-peak-tmnt]

What version your Casey is based off? When I'm reading I imagine a mix of 2012 and Rise but i'm wondering if there's a specific iteration you reference at all? :)

(art by @meruz) Whoa, fun question! Thank you!

Like physically, I think of him the way Meruz drew him in the comic my sister commissioned for the fic! (I still haven't gotten to this scene, but I think it'll be in Chapter 19 or 20).

But character wise, he's kind of just my own creation I guess? I felt like since there was no canon Casey for Mutant Mayhem yet, I had a blank slate to make the version of Casey I personally wanted to see and that would work well with Mutant Mayhem Raph. Of course I'm trying to hit all the classic Casey beats (his attitude, love of hockey and fighting, befriending Raph with a fight lol), but I really wanted to lean into and explore the emotional side of his friendship with Raph.

There are some plot points from a particular iteration of Casey I'll be borrowing for the fic, but telling you which one would be a huge spoiler! Sorry! Reciprocity Casey is also a result of this blurb on the back of the Raph action figure box:

I wanted to give Raph that "someone to talk to". Casey was meant to be someone who would still let Raph be rough and crude, but also vulnerable and honest. I love when tough guy characters are also emotionally intelligent. Some of my favorite moments from TMNT media are when Raph and Casey are just talking things out with each other.

Seriously blows me away how many nice comments about my Casey! I've got some really fun things planned for him!

(Well, fun for me and the readers...not fun for Casey lol)

[colourstreakgryffin]

I’m sorta new to your page and I absolutely adore your works and I was wondering if you would like to do Yan Kyo and Yan Tengen for a Moana type reader?

Please and thank you and I understand if you don’t want to! ;)

Oooh! Sure, another really good Disney Princess(she isn’t really tho, is she?)! I’m curious what I can do with this! They are seperate, btw!

Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku

Kyojuro found you incredible right from the get-go and he didn’t want to hide it

Your bravery and your determination attract Kyojuro to you. He loves such traits in a person, it makes him idolise such person

Though, his harmless little admiration crush on you, his strong leader, turns into a insanity-inducing obsession overtime. It takes over his head so much, he now just stares at you most of the time

The way you hold and gaze at the necklace your grandmother gave to you. Asking her to help give you strength. Simply hypnotic

Kyojuro is a very supportive Yandere of your wishes. He won’t try reasons with you against sailing the seas, he’ll just express his concern for your safety

Kyojuro is defensive over your wishes against other people and gets into fights quite often. A little one like you can explore the oceans if they want and Kyojuro will make sure people know that

Kyojuro will help you with the boat as much as he can, as he carefully pries information about you out of you for his own obsessive needs

He adores you as a whole. You inviting him to join your adventures has his heart racing and his delusions screaming at him that you love him as much as he loves you too

“Whoa. Dokusha, why are you crying?! Your— your parents aren’t supportive of your dreams… how— how dare they! I mean… my apologies. That’s simply just cruel. You should be allowed to be who you want to be!”

Yandere! Uzui Tengen

How so interesting. Tengen thought when he first met you, you’re unique and he likes that

You’re bold and fearless, always ready to give your life for the innocent people around you. That drew Tengen’s attention fast as he found himself admiring you

His gentle innocent crush on you dissolved into another life-changing obsession, matching the three for his wives, and he became so riddled with you that he followed you around like you’re his lifeline

Tengen is, just like Kyojuro, a very supportive Yandere that’ll gladly help you build your boat as it makes you happy. He’ll bring over his wives to help to so you can bond with them and bond him with faster

Tengen loves hearing you sing, your random bursts to whisper-lullabies would be annoying to anybody else but not Tengen. He sneaks into your room skilfully and enjoys the song you sing to your little chicken and pig friend

He tries his best to bond with your animal companions as the more they like him, the more you’ll be willing to like him too. It’s primarily centred around fainting more and more of your attraction so you will want to marry him

Tengen will propose to you so you’ll marry him and become his fourth spouse but he doesn’t know how to take your polite rejection. He can’t understand it, he is too trapped in his delusions

Tengen finds your adventurous nature very loveable and he cannot wait to join your boat trips. Even if he doesn’t like it himself, he just wants to be around you constantly

“Your ancestors are wonderful people, Dokusha. I’m certain they’d want you to go explore the grand seas, I for sure want you to… with only me— I mean, with your little buddies and maaaaybe me too?”

[candyheartedchy]

A very popular UTY artist drew my self ship a gift and it was insane to wake up to. Like HALLO!!

In some other fun news, last night I watched thr FNaF movie again and had to keep quiet otherwise I'd spill Lore. And my roommates thought it was cool! (I was the only one who really liked fnaf fjejdiwj)

Hope you'll feel better soon!

WHOA THAT’S WONDERFUL!!! THAT MUST’VE MADE YOUR DAY!! Heck maybe even your week! :D

And I never watched the FNAF movie (yet) but if you’re rewatching it, it must be enjoyable!

[bosskie]

OWI 30

Oddworld Inhabitants recently announced that it's its birthday, so it gave me some inspiration, especially when they are celebrating 'round years' (it's what I would say in Finnish). I couldn't take a better photo but you can see the main stuff, again... (I always need to edit these still.)

But yeah, Molluck is enjoying some cake and coffee 'n' cognac (or whatever the Oddworld version would be), maybe giving some for the Slig too but not the cigars. Yes, those 'candles' are cigars; what else you would expect from Molluck? I also redrew that concept art piece to present the history and 'the original Molluck', or how you would call that Molluck. Those balloons have a meaning too but I also drew them for fun.

I wasn't sure of which version of Molluck I draw, without scars or not I mean, but I drew my 'alternative Molluck'; I just love to see Molluck being happy! Oh, and yeah, the Slig's party hat has Mudokon Pops pattern. The photo lost the fine details, like I drew lil eyes on the Pops but whatever. I prefer drawing on paper but the con is that I don't have a proper way to digitalize my stuff...

Yeah, it's been some time since I posted, about three weeks. I felt so awful and thought that I should just end this all, everything... I have been still slowly working on one digital painting that only needs some refining. I can say that it's about naked Molluck on the beach, yet again... Man, I'm just so thirsty for that Gluk... But yeah, I have started to feel better slowly. Frankly, it was close that I took my blog down since I just felt so awful... Sometimes, I just feel like it's just a lie that I'm 'a talented/skilled artist' since all I see is just some crappy scribbles that probably no one wants to see... It's just what my ill mind tells me, that the truth is that I got no talent, everyone has just lied to me. I know that my mind lies to me and the actual problem is that I just keep feeling like nothing I create is good enough or even worth seeing.

This blog has become much more personal than I wanted but my issues are just way too severe... I can only feel like posting stuff like this, in a limited way. I just cannot often stand my own creations but I cannot really hate them, especially when they are about Molluck... It would feel like I did something awful to Molluck if I destroyed a Molluck piece I had made... I don't wanna hurt my precious Gluk, it would only make me just hate myself even more. I can admit that I can stand the best my newest Molluck sculpt since well... It's something 'useful' for me... Man, that Gluk just... Whoa... ❤️‍🔥 I just cannot hide my only desire... I don't even wanna since this whole blog was made for loving Molluck! You can think whatever about this; I'm just one odd man who wants this Gluk so badly...

I recently listened again some Molluck related stuff Lorne has said, and I noticed/understood better some stuff. It seems that Molluck had more plans for the RuptureFarms business, even darker stuff than butchering his Mudokon 'employees'. But it made me wonder again how sensible butchering the Muds even would have been because who is gonna do their work when they are dead? How much there even is Mudokon 'workers' and how fast new ones are born... Molluck's Mudokon Pops thing could make more sense if he replaced them by robots but is technology that advanced in Oddworld (those Greeters don't give me high expectations on this)... I feel like I'm just giving some 'bad ideas' for Molluck but that's why we could be a good team, or a pair, a couple... Just be ideal for each other! I just love this Gluk so much that I just feel like no matter what Molluck planned to do and was he successful or not, I would still love and support him. I cannot help myself, Molluck has just stolen my heart... He is just like the most adorable thing too!

Oh, and due to my own mental health issues, I'm still unsure of contacting OWI... Like, related to that Soulstorm tattoo competition and just letting them know about this, how much Oddworld means to me. I see that they really wish to see fan art but... Right now, I just feel like crying when thinking about this. I just need some time still. My mind just keeps telling me how crappy my stuff is, so there's nothing worth seeing...

Man, I started to feel worse after just thinking about my creations... I wish that it wasn't like this but my mind is just not okay... I'm still trying and I even made a significant investment for my creativity since I have bought a custom workstation PC for myself. I don't have it yet but it's many times more powerful than my current computers (Blender doesn't run smooth on them, for example)... I just felt like I really need to buy such a computer that I can really start creating proper stuff, use all the possible programs I need and so on. My current desktop PC is actually falling apart and I haven't been using it this whole year, just my main laptop. Man, I'm excited about the new PC but I also hope that it will make me work harder on my projects, learning and so on. Yeah, like, I really wanna make my own Molluck animations that look like the Soulstorm cutscenes, the stuff I wish OWI did but of course, the only profit I get is stuff to my portfolio (it's empty right now, I feel like I have nothing to put there if I had to make one now; I just feel this unskilled...).

But yeah, even I can feel like all my creations are some unskilled scribbles, I'm still trying to believe in myself. I really wish to be able to do stuff like OWI does, from concept art to animations, and so on. Yeah, I really admire the talent/skill level that's behind OWI's stuff. I don't feel like I'll ever be able to do anything like that but I'm still trying.

I still feel sorry but I'm thankful for being tolerated here.

[russellius]

Tucked away somewhere in his parents’ Norfolk home, there is a photograph of George Russell at his first Silverstone grand prix. If Russell has his way, it will remain tucked away for ever. Rather embarrassingly for the Mercedes driver, he is wearing a Red Bull jumper in the shot.

In fairness, it was taken in 2009 and he was only 11 years old. Yet you sense a certain awkwardness when he talks about it. “When you are a kid you tend to get things you like the look of,” he says. “And I liked the look of that jumper.”

There was a lot more for Russell to like that day. His hero was Sebastian Vettel — of, er, Red Bull — and as he stood at the exit of Copse for the opening lap, he watched his favourite flash by in the lead. Vettel went on to win the race, with team-mate Mark Webber finishing second. Russell was smitten.

“That was the moment when I was like, ‘Yeah, this is what I want to do.’ The noise and the buzz was just immense,” he says.

At the time, Russell was already a junior kart racer and a regular winner, and he would carry on in that groove for the next few years. There was certainly no lack of belief. “With the naivety of a child I used to think I could do anything. I used to think I could fly to the moon,” he says.

“I was so confident. So, so confident at a young age because I was winning. I was almost arrogant, I would say. It was only when I got to 16 that I realised it was not as straightforward as I thought. There are obstacles and there are challenges.”

These things are relative. At the age of 16 Russell still won the British Formula Four championship. And while there were a few bumps on the road when racing in European events, he was still doing enough to attract a six-figure offer from BMW to drive in DTM, the German touring car championship.

“I was like, ‘Whoa, this is unbelievable,’ ” he says. “Formula One was almost put on the sideline at that point because that was so attractive. For a kid growing up in a field with a labrador, those sorts of figures had never even been heard of.”

Russell turned it down. An alternative offer from Mercedes to fund him in Formula Three kept his ambitions on track. More titles followed and in 2019 the kid who had stood saucer-eyed in wonder at Copse a decade earlier became a full-fledged F1 driver for Williams. He would spend three seasons with the Grove outfit before moving to Mercedes at the start of last year.

The change took him from the back of the grid to the front. It meant regular podium finishes and, eventually, a first race win in Brazil. It meant he was now one of a tiny elite, with all the attention that drew. But it also brought a reckoning.

Russell, 25, is a thoughtful and articulate individual. “Some changes are for better and some for worse,” he begins. “It is a bit of a strange position to be in when you find yourself in the limelight. A lot of people want to cosy up to you for the wrong reasons. It took a bit of time for me to process this.

“They weren’t necessarily friends, but people I knew well suddenly started acting differently, asking for this and asking for that. People I hadn’t heard from for a long time came out of the woodwork.

“Now I’m in this position, which is a privilege, I see people’s true colours. So I have a close-knit group of people around me and I know they are there for the right reason.”

Remember that old Volkswagen advertisement about the man who “moved into gold, just as the clever money moved out”? Russell arrived at Mercedes at a similar moment. Lewis Hamilton had just lost his drivers’ title to Max Verstappen and at the end of Russell’s first season with the team they also surrendered to Red Bull the constructors’ crown they had held for eight years.

And yet, perhaps it was not so bad to pitch up when he did. Russell played a big part in ironing out the problems of Mercedes’ 2022 car and making this year’s model more competitive. He also acknowledges that slotting in beside Hamilton could have been problematic had the team still been the most dominant in the sport.

Has it helped that Hamilton is Russell’s senior by a margin of 13 years, seven titles and 102 race wins? “I totally agree with that,” Russell says. “When you look at Carlos Sainz and Charles Leclerc [of Ferrari] or Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri [McLaren] these guys are trying to be the one to lead the team. They are almost fighting for that No 1 spot. With us, there is no fight because we are at different stages of our careers.

“Lewis has proven everything he has to prove. The team believes in me and believe I’ll be here for the long term. It is a very good dynamic. I would expect the dynamic to change a bit if we were fighting for championships, that’s only normal. But for now we have a good relationship and have had no real tense moments on track.”

The scale of the task facing Mercedes, and every other F1 team, can be measured by the fact that Red Bull have now won 19 of the past 20 grands prix. Their near-monopoly was interrupted only by Russell’s victory in Brazil. To all intents and purposes, this year’s titles have already been decided, but Russell still believes in his team.

“We’ve got some new things coming for the race, which will be a step in the right direction. Red Bull are still favourites, but out of all of the races so far I’d say this would be our best chance.

“As a team we are definitely going in the right direction. We’ve got clear views now and you’ve seen it already with our progress. We’re slowly reeling in Red Bull. It seems like they have taken a step backwards compared to the rest of the field.”

Regardless of what happens, Hamilton and Verstappen have already cemented their places among the all-time greats in the annals of the sport. Can Russell see himself joining them at some point? He seems ambivalent about the prospect.

“When I was a ten-year-old kid I dreamt about being world champion,” he says. “I didn’t dream of being famous.

“I got asked a question recently about what legacy I wanted to leave behind. I’m 25 years old and I hadn’t even thought about this. As a kid I didn’t think about legacy or what impact I wanted to leave, I just wanted to win.

“Maybe in five years’ time that will be something I do think about. I recognise the platform we have, but equally the more success you have the bigger your platform becomes. I need to focus on that first.”

[hermanunworthy]

can i request 23 for oakworthy? :3c

Charmed (In Your Arms)

23: carrying the other one in their arms

from the touch prompts list!

kai i KNOW u chose this one bc of that one hcs ask and ily for it bc i have been waiting for an excuse to write something about it teehee

also on ao3!

In a perfectly ideal fantasy (of which he has many), Hermie would be the most charming of princes, dressed in an expensive suit, whisking his bride away into the sunset in his very capable arms. The princess, in her elegant white gown, would swoon over his admirable strength, calling him her hero, and he would kiss her cheek with a dashing smile. A choir of birds and angels would sing in harmony, following them into the distance as the curtains drew on their love story.

But “happily ever after” just doesn't seem to be quite in Hermie’s reach yet. Because… Well…

“Wh-Whoa! ” the prince cries out as the weight of the mannequin in their arms tips them over and crushes them on the floor. For–well, not the first time.

…Hermie might not be the best at everything in acting.

They shove the wretched doll off of their definitely-now-bruised body and sit up with a groan. They have to get this down, if they’re ever going to stand a chance auditioning for the prince in the school play. What kind of Prince Charming can't sweep his princess off her feet?

Hermie may have been known for their wonderful acting abilities, but not exactly for their physical capabilities. And though they know the school’s theatre department is not one to typecast, as they’ve been able to land a variety of roles before… a scrawny kid like them is not exactly their first choice for this particular character. It’s not an easy feat to pretend to be a powerful, masculine man when you're just a pathetic non-binary teen who can't even lift a chair without breaking a sweat.

They brush themself off in embarrassment, feeling as though an entire audience has just witnessed their blunder. “Once more, with feeling this time!” they mutter to themself, although the only feeling they have left in them is frustration (and aching pain).

They crouch down to pick the mannequin back up, expecting it to be a herculean task with how tired their arms are, but find lifting it to be a breeze, all of a sudden. Perhaps they really are settling into their role–

“Hi, Hermie! What’s the mannequin for?”

Standing on the other side of the mannequin, holding up its body effortlessly, is Normal. When did he get in here?

Normal is, shockingly, not in the mascot costume at the moment. Standing backstage with his messy hair and casual clothes, it would be easy to mistake him for stage crew. But Hermie is one of the few people who are used to what Normal looks like underneath Teeny. Well, maybe “used to” isn't the right way to put it, in Hermie’s case. Seeing Normal so plainly like this is startling to them, in a way. He looks so much smaller when he’s not in the bulky suit.

The thespian masks his shock by taking on his princely persona once again, giving a stage bow before standing straight and tall (it hurts his back a bit though, since he’s still unlearning his awful Joker posture). “Greetings, Normally.” He rests a hand on the mannequin’s shoulder, as though it really is his betrothed. “I am simply practicing for our future wedding.”

“Oh!” Normal’s cheek flush. “That’s… Oh! You mean, like… the princess! At the end of the play! Oh wow, you're trying out for the…” He trails off as he stares at him, his blush steadily deepening.

“Prince Charming himself, yes,” Hermie finishes for him while he’s still starstruck. His polite smile shifts into a smirk. “It would appear my charms are already working?”

Normal tries to laugh it off, but he’s visibly sweating as much as he does when he’s been at cheer practice. “Ha, yeah, you're uh, doing a great job…” He clears his throat and shakes his head a little. “But, uh. I actually came because a teacher asked me to grab those chairs that got taken in here yesterday?” He points behind Hermie at a stack of chairs sitting against the wall. “I-I wasn't, like, expecting you to be in here, too.”

“Ah, of course.” The prince gestures for him to go ahead, trying to scoot the mannequin out of the way but failing.

The mascot kid scurries past him, clarifying while walking backwards, “Not that I mind seeing you! I'm glad I saw you!” In his distraction, he ends up bumping his back into the chairs. Once again, he laughs it off.

He turns around, grips the base of the bottom chair, and somehow lifts the entire stack with ease.

It's easy to forget just how strong Normal is. Despite his lack of height or a jock-like attitude, this little sophomore can lift. Hermie just doesn't understand how he's able to support an entire pyramid of cheerleaders, with those very arms, just hidden underneath the arms of his costume. Now that is talent.

That's it! Inspiration strikes Hermie (as well as jealousy, but he can handle that just fine, as he has had to before).

“Normal, wait,” he says without thinking it through first. He instantly realizes that doesn't know what he’s doing. Asking Normal for help is admitting that he can't do it himself. He’s supposed to be confident, capable, not asking a school mascot to teach him how to carry his own bride.

But it’s too late, because Normal is literally dropping everything for him right now. He places the chairs back down on the floor immediately and turns back to him with his full attention. “Yes, Hermie? What do you need?”

A truly loyal knight he would make. Perhaps this is a better way to look at this situation: simply the prince calling on a trusted guard to aid him.

The thespian straightens himself again and tries to put on an authoritative air. “The teacher requested you specifically, I imagine, because you are notably strong, correct?”

“Uh…” Normal glances at the stack of chairs. “I mean, I guess? She knows I do cheer.”

Hermie nods. “Yes, and you are able to carry people with great ease, as I have seen.”

The cheerleader scratches the back of his neck bashfully. “I don't know if I’d call it ‘great ease’, but…”

“Normal, do you happen to be familiar with the bridal carry position?”

Normal jumps a little at the question. “I… am, why?” There’s a nervous but somewhat hopeful twinkle in his eye.

Hermie wraps an arm around the mannequin's waist. “I might acquire some… assistance, in preparation for the big day.” He curses his face for beginning to heat up in shame, but at least it’s underneath his makeup. Still, he shouldn't be averting his eyes.

When he directs them back at Normal, he finds his expression to be much more openly flustered than him. As is the mascot kid’s near-constant state, it seems. “Oh, yeah! I’d–I’d love to help! What do…” He swings his arms back and forth. “What’s holding you up about it?”

What’s holding him up is that he can't hold this thing up. “Might I demonstrate with this, and you may critique?”

Normal stops his swinging motion. “Oh. Yeah, yeah, go ahead.”

As soon as Hermie turns toward the mannequin again, the regret starts to hit him. This audience of one is somehow much more pressure on him than the crowds of eyes he’s used to having watch him. His hands hover over the mannequin’s body awkwardly, like a young teen not knowing how to hold their partner at their first dance. He hasn't felt this kind of stage fright in years.

Eventually, his arms settle somewhere along the torso and legs, and, with his breath held, tries this time to just tip the mannequin over and then catch its weight, hoping that that'll make it easier. However, it only ends up starting to pull him down with it, and he lets go before he can go through the even-more-humiliating ordeal of having Normal watch him fall again.

And then Normal laughs. He tries to stifle it with his hand, but it was impossible to miss. Hermie’s cheeks only burn more, as if he’s standing under unbearable stage lights and not just in the dim backstage area.

“Sorry, sorry. I just don't think the mannequin is working for you, man!” He walks over and picks it back up for him. “It and you are too stiff to make it happen!” He looks Hermie over briefly, before chirping, “Here, you gotta do it like this!”

And before Hermie can even protest, he’s being scooped from the floor in one sweeping motion. Normal’s hands, warm though the prince’s clothes, cradle his back and the crooks of his knees. As though he’s nothing more than a pillow resting in his arms.

Even though his hold is steady, Hermie involuntarily swings their arms around the cheerleader’s neck with a very unprincely squeak. The back of his neck is sticky with sweat, but they hang on for dear life anyway.

Normal lets out another giggle, and this time, Hermie can feel it from his chest pressed against their body. He’s so close to them now. Solid. Steady. Warm warm warm–

“Let me down this instant,” the prince demands, feeling suffocated and alarmed as he feels comfortable and safe.

Normal looks down at him (he’s looking down at him for once) with a bright smile. There’s that unbearable stage light. “Of course, your majesty,” he teases in an uncharacteristically smooth voice, and gracefully sets him back down to earth.

As soon as Hermie’s feet land on the floor and Normal’s hands are no longer there for support, they feel their balance falter for the umpteenth time. They try to step away to place some distance between them, but their knees buckle under their own light weight.

But of course, Normal is quick to catch them. An order to unhand him readies itself on Hermie’s tongue, but when the hands draw away just as quickly as they came, he feels the need to lean back into him.

This can't be. He can't be swooning, he’s supposed to be the prince. He’s not supposed to look at Normal, with his dashing smile and very, very capable arms, and feel charmed.

“Once more,” he orders instead. His face feels about as flushed as Normal’s clearly is, and that’s probably becoming more and more evident by the second with how much makeup he’s sweating off, but the show must go on. “With feeling this time.”

Once more, the mascot kid effortlessly sweeps the prince off his feet. Hermie now allows himself to relish in the warmth of his touch, memorizing the way his arms curl around him protectively. To keep in mind for later. To help with his romantic fantasies. As in, to apply when playing as the prince in the play.

Normal then presses the lightest touch of his smiling lips to Hermie’s cheek.

…Hermie may be reconsidering her role now.