#incredible. i will cherish this for hundreds of years ^-^

[artsy-book]

you :D

wanted to draw Ur new pfp in a style in experimenting with

andy this is so frickin cute!!!!!!!💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

picking them up and holding him close to my face and giving her lil kisses ^-^ <33333333

[pucksandpower]

Wagification

Max Verstappen x analyst!Reader

Summary: your job was slowly crushing your soul and stealing your sanity … until Max showed you the pleasure to be found in letting yourself be cherished and cared for (or in which a chronically overworked Sky Sports analyst becomes a WAG)

Monaco Grand Prix, 2025

You take a deep breath as you step out of the car, the Monaco sunshine bright and warm on your face. Max comes around and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You ready for this?” He asks, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, though your stomach is fluttering with nerves. It’s been nearly a year since you were last at a Grand Prix, and so much has changed. You glance down at the massive diamond on your left hand, still not quite used to seeing it there.

Max kisses your temple. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right by your side the whole time.”

Hand-in-hand, you make your way into the paddock. Immediately you’re assaulted by the familiar sights and sounds — mechanics yelling, engines revving, reporters gesturing to their cameras. It’s like you never left.

You keep your sunglasses on and your head down, hoping to avoid notice. The last thing you want is to be bombarded by your old coworkers. As a data analyst for Sky Sports F1, you knew everyone in the paddock. But you walked away from it all for Max and you aren’t sure what kind of reception awaits you now.

“Max! Max Verstappen!” You hear a female voice call out. You suppress a groan as you recognize it as belonging to Emma, one of the network’s top reporters. She hurries over, dictaphone in hand. “Max, can I get a quick interview for the pre-race show?”

“Sure,” Max says easily. He keeps holding your hand, drawing you forward. “Just make it quick, yeah?”

Emma nods, then seems to notice you for the first time. “I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I’m Emma Walsh, with Sky Sports.” She sticks her hand out with a friendly smile.

You hesitate a second before shaking her hand. “Y/N,” you say simply, not offering your last name.

Emma’s eyes widen behind her glasses and she leans in for a closer look. “Wait a minute, I know you ...” Her jaw drops open. “Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?”

You give a little shrug. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Oh my god!” Emma practically shouts. “I can’t believe it! We all thought you fell off the face of the earth after you left Sky. What happened to you?”

Max slides an arm around your waist. “She fell for me,” he says with a grin.

Emma’s eyes bug out even more as she takes in your designer dress, heels, and rock on your finger. “You mean … you and Max ...”

You nod, feeling yourself blush. “About a year ago, yeah.”

“Wow.” Emma shakes her head in disbelief. “Just … wow. I mean, look at you! You look incredible!”

You smooth your hands self-consciously over your dress. Your style has certainly changed since your Sky Sports days of sensible pantsuits. As an analyst, you had lived in jeans, flats, and minimal makeup, your hair always pulled back in a simple ponytail. Now your hair falls in soft waves over your shoulders, and you’re wearing a floaty floral maxi dress and strappy heels. You went from broadcasting racing stats to being a WAG almost overnight.

“Thanks,” you say, your cheeks growing even warmer. “It’s really good to see you, Emma.”

“You too!” She grins. “I have so many questions, but I better let you go for now. Don’t want to keep the championship leader waiting.” She winks at Max. “We’ll catch up later, yeah? Drinks tonight to celebrate your return?”

“Sure, sounds good.” You smile, thankful she’s not pressing for more details now. Emma waves and heads off in search of her next interview.

Max keeps his arm around you as you continue through the paddock. “See, that wasn’t so bad,” he murmurs.

You let out a shaky laugh. “One down, about a hundred more to go.”

Over the next hour you run into what feels like every person you used to work with. They all react with similar shock at the former paddock nerd turned glamorous girlfriend of the reigning four-time World Champion.

You chat briefly with Will, who stutters over his words and goes bright red when you say hello. He had the biggest crush on you back when you worked together. Sarah can’t stop gushing over your ring. Tom tells you how weird it is not to see you hunched over a laptop crunching numbers.

The encounters leave you feeling drained, but also relieved. Your old coworkers seem genuinely happy for you, not resentful like you had worried. They don’t pry too much into how exactly you went from reporting race stats to ending up with Max Verstappen. That’s a story for another time.

Eventually you make it to the Red Bull garage, where you let out a long breath. “Phew, I survived.”

Max grins and pulls you close. “You were amazing. And you look beautiful, as always.” He nuzzles your neck.

You smile and loop your arms around his shoulders. “Have I mentioned how happy I am whenever I’m with you?”

“Mmm, maybe once or twice.” Max kisses you softly. “But feel free to keep reminding me.”

“Ahem.” Christian Horner clears his throat from behind you. “If you two can pause the PDA for a moment, we have a race to focus on.”

You spring apart, blushing furiously at being caught by Max’s team principal. Max just laughs and slings an arm around your shoulders.

“Lighten up, Christian. I’m allowed to kiss my fiancée.”

Christian shakes his head, but he’s fighting a smile. “Indeed you are. But perhaps when there aren’t cameras around?” He nods over your shoulder.

You turn to see several photographers zooming in, no doubt dying to get shots of the paddock’s newest it couple. You bury your face in Max’s shoulder.

“Ugh, no privacy anywhere,” you grumble.

Max kisses your hair. “It’s not so bad. Just part of the deal when you’re with me, remember?”

You smile up at him. “Very true. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

The day passes in a blur of activity. Max has various sponsor obligations and media commitments. You stick close by his side, learning how to avoid the cameras and deflect the constant questions about your relationship. Being the center of attention still feels strange, but you’re getting better at handling it.

During Max’s autograph session, you chat with some of the other drivers’ girlfriends and wives. They give you tips on dealing with the madness. You’re touched by how kind and welcoming they are.

“It takes some getting used to,” Alex Albon’s girlfriend, Lily, says. “But once you figure out how to focus on what really matters, the rest just becomes background noise.”

You nod. Your priority is Max. Everything else is just part of the ride.

***

One Year Ago

You sink down onto a stack of tires behind the Red Bull motorhome, finally letting the tears fall. This weekend in Barcelona has been a nightmare so far. Your team at Sky Sports is chronically understaffed, so you’ve been working 18 hour days analyzing data and prepping stats graphics.

You’re exhausted, frustrated, and seriously questioning your career choices.

On top of that, you just found out that your coworker and boyfriend Jamie has been cheating on you for months with one of the new junior reporters. You feel like such an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

You just need a few minutes to yourself to cry it out before plastering a smile back on and soldiering through the rest of the weekend. You hear footsteps approaching and quickly dab at your eyes with your sleeve, but it’s too late.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to ...” The voice trails off awkwardly.

You glance up to see none other than Max Verstappen standing there, a look of concern on his face. Great. The last thing you need is Formula 1’s wunderkind catching you bawling behind the motorhome.

You scramble to your feet, trying to compose yourself. “Um, hi. No worries, I was just ...” You trail off, at a loss for how to explain.

Max steps closer, head tilted. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

His kindness makes the tears threaten again. You stare down at your scuffed sneakers, embarrassed.

“I’m fine, really. Just had a bad day. You know how it goes.” You force a weak laugh.

Max doesn’t seem convinced. “Here, come sit for a minute,” he says gently, guiding you back over to the stack of tires.

To your surprise, he sits down next to you in his designer jeans and Red Bull Racing hoodie like it’s no big deal. You would laugh if you weren’t still fighting more tears.

“I’m Max, by the way.” He smiles and holds out his hand.

You shake it weakly. “Yeah, I know. I mean, uh, I’m Y/N.” You blush. Smooth.

Max either doesn’t notice or is too polite to comment. “So Y/N, what has you so upset? Boyfriend troubles?” He raises an eyebrow knowingly.

You let out a watery chuckle. “Yeah, something like that. The idiot’s been cheating on me it turns out.” Saying it out loud makes the hurt swell back up.

Max shakes his head angrily. “What a dick. I don’t understand guys who treat girls like that. You deserve so much better, Y/N.”

The genuine outrage on your behalf makes you smile a bit through the tears. “Thanks, Max. I appreciate that.”

He nods. “Any guy would be lucky to have a girl as pretty and smart as you. This loser doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

Now you really can’t help blushing. You’re used to being called a lot of things — nerdy, awkward, obsessive about stats — but no one’s ever called you pretty before. Especially not a kind, cute, and famous race car driver.

You dip your head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear self-consciously. “You’re very sweet to say that.”

Max bumps your shoulder with his. “Just calling it like I see it.”

You chat for a few more minutes about nothing in particular. Max is easy to talk to, and makes you laugh with funny stories about mishaps in the garage. By the time you hear your boss calling your name, you’ve almost forgotten about Jamie and your tear-stained face.

“Shit, I have to get back to work,” you say, standing quickly and grabbing your laptop bag. “Thanks for listening, Max. I really appreciate you taking the time.”

“Of course.” Max stands too, shoving his hands in his pockets. He seems reluctant to end the conversation. “Hey, maybe I’ll see you around again this weekend?”

You give him a curious look, wondering why he’d want to see you again after witnessing that mess of emotions. But he looks sincere. “Yeah, maybe! I’m around if you need any stats analysis or data work.” You tap your temple. “Numbers nerd, at your service.”

Max grins. “Good to know. Take care, Y/N.” With a little wave, he heads off, leaving you staring after him in surprise.

The rest of the day you keep replaying those moments with Max in your head, unable to focus. Why did he seem so interested in a frumpy data analyst having a meltdown? You can’t make sense of it.

By the time qualifying ends on Saturday, you’re practically dead on your feet. Your eyelids keep drooping as you pack up your equipment. Maybe you’ll just sleep under your desk tonight instead of walking all the way to the hotel.

“Long day, huh?”

You jerk awake to see Max leaning in the doorway of your makeshift office, thumbs hooked in his pockets. He looks annoyingly energetic and put together compared to your disheveled state.

“Uh, yeah.” You smooth your hair back,feeling self-conscious. Why does he have to catch you looking like such a mess yet again? “Just have about a million graphics to finish before tomorrow’s broadcast. The glamorous life of a data analyst,” you say wryly.

Max frowns. “They keep you here this late doing all the work yourself?”

You sigh, rubbing your grainy eyes beneath your glasses. “Unfortunately yes. We’re way understaffed, but it’s not like they’ll give us more budget to hire help.”

Max shakes his head. “That’s unacceptable. You deserve so much better than this.”

The kindness in his voice makes you suddenly emotional again. You bite your lip, willing yourself not to tear up at work twice in one day.

“Thanks, Max. I’ll be okay though, once I get some sleep ...” You know you don’t sound convincing.

Max appears to think for a moment, his brow furrowed. “You know what, enough of this. Come on.”

Before you can react, he takes your hand and gently tugs you to your feet.

“W-what? Where are we going?” You stammer, heartbeat quickening.

“We’re getting out of here. You’re clearly exhausted and need a break.” Max keeps hold of your hand as he leads you from the office.

“But-but my work … I have to finish-” Even as you protest, you let him continue pulling you along. A rebellious part of you is thrilled at this sudden adventure.

“It can wait. Right now, we’re getting some food and drinks in you so you actually have energy left for tomorrow.” Max winks at you as you exit the paddock into the cool night air. “Trust me.”

And despite barely knowing this man, you realize you do trust him. Max guides you around the corner to a lively tapas bar, chatting all the while about random topics to make you laugh. He seems genuinely interested in getting to know you.

Over shared plates of patatas bravas and fizzy cocktails, you find yourself opening up to Max in a way you never do with people you just met. But his kindness and openness make you feel comfortable. He tells you more about life as an F1 driver, the pressures and perks.

“It must be amazing getting to travel all over the world racing cars,” you muse after your second cocktail. “Like a dream.”

“Part of it is, yeah.” Max smiles wryly. “But it can also be lonely. Never really putting down roots anywhere. Hard to meet people outside the racing bubble, you know?”

You nod thoughtfully. Under the playboy racer exterior, it seems there’s a down-to-earth guy who just wants connection. On impulse, you cover his hand with yours and give it a squeeze.

“Well, you’ve got a friend here now if you ever need company at a race.”

Max turns his palm over to link his fingers through yours. “I was hoping you’d say that.” His smile is so warm and genuine, you feel your cheeks heat.

By the time you stumble back to your hotel, you’re laughing and chatting with Max like old friends. When you get to your door though, you blink blearily and sway on your feet — the long day and alcohol hitting you hard.

Max steadies you with a hand on your waist. “Whoa there. You gonna make it okay?”

You wave a hand drunkenly. “Oh yeah, totally fiiiine ...” Your balance wavers again. Okay, maybe not so fine.

Max bites his lip, seeming to have an internal debate. “Alright, slight change of plans. You’re in no state to be left alone right now.”

In one smooth motion he scoops you up bridal-style. You make a very dignified squeaking noise and clutch his shoulders.

“Max! What are you doing?”

“Making sure you’re safe for the night.” He grins down at you. “You can stay in my suite where I can keep an eye on you.”

“But … people will think ...” Even tipsy, you know spending the night in Max Verstappen’s hotel room is probably a bad idea.

“Let them think whatever. I’m being a gentleman, I promise.” The sincerity in his eyes melts your feeble protests. You really are in no state to be left alone.

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder. “Okay fine, you win. But just for tonight!”

Max chuckles, carrying you towards the elevator. “Deal. We’ll get you sobered up and rested for tomorrow.”

You have vague impressions of a plush suite, being tucked into cool satin sheets and handed water and pills for your headache. Max brushes hair off your face with a lingering touch. “Get some sleep, Y/N. I’m right next door if you need me.”

His kindness brings tears to your eyes again, but happy ones this time. As you drift off surrounded by his scent, you think dazedly that maybe this race weekend hasn’t been so terrible after all.

In the morning, waking up in Max Verstappen’s hotel bed, you at first think it was all some crazy dream. Then the smell of brewing coffee draws you out to the living room, where Max stands in the kitchenette.

“Morning! I ordered us some breakfast.” He hands you a mug, smiling softly.

Daylight streaming through the windows makes last night’s events seem even more surreal. You feel suddenly shy as memories return. A part of you wishes you could stay here in this peaceful bubble with him forever, away from the outside world.

But reality calls, as you both have jobs to return to. Max convinces you to eat some food and take more pain meds before he walks you back to your own room to shower and change.

At your door he pulls you into a gentle hug. “Take care of yourself today, okay Y/N? And if you need another break or company again, you know where to find me.” He presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead that sends tingles through your entire body.

Somehow you make it through the day fueled by Max’s kindness and the smallest hope this could lead to more. You catch sight of him striding through the paddock, fans clamoring for his attention. His eyes always seem to find you though, lighting up with that warm smile.

After the race, you’re back in your makeshift office trying not to fall asleep at your desk before the last minutes of broadcasts. When you walk outside into the golden hour sunset though, Max is waiting for you.

“So, ready for round two at the tapas place to celebrate my win?” He bumps your shoulder playfully.

You grin up at him, this beautiful boy who inexplicably wants to spend all his free moments with you. “Definitely. Bring on the croquetas.”

Laughing together, you start making your way there. And though you don’t know what this budding connection will lead to, you’re ready to find out.

***

Nine Months Ago

You snuggle deeper into Max’s arms with a contented sigh, resting your head on his chest. The lights are dim and music plays softly in the background of his hotel suite. Rain patters against the windows, making it the perfect night to get cozy indoors.

Being wrapped up with Max like this, away from the chaos of the race weekend, has become your favorite place to be over the past few months. After that impulsive first night in Barcelona when he took care of you, you started spending more and more time together.

What began as a supportive friendship soon turned into dates, kisses, and eventually becoming official boyfriend and girlfriend. You still can’t believe that Max Verstappen, Formula 1 superstar, wants to be with a plain data analyst like yourself. But from the way he looks at you — like you’re the most captivating person in the world — you don’t doubt his sincerity.

“Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?” Max murmurs, trailing his fingers slowly up and down your arm.

You smile and nuzzle his neck. “Mmm, I think you mentioned it once or twice.”

His hands drift up to stroke your hair and you practically purr, eyes drifting shut. Max kisses the top of your head. “I mean it though, Y/N. Being with you makes me so happy.”

You lift your head to meet his lips in a soft kiss. “You make me happy too, Max. I-” You cut off with an enormous yawn that you fail to stifle in time.

Max chuckles. “Am I boring you over here?”

“No no,” you insist around another yawn. “I just can’t seem to keep my eyes open tonight.”

It’s true. As blissful as you feel cuddled up with Max, you’re utterly exhausted. This weekend has been nonstop work with little sleep. By the time you wrapped the Sky broadcasts up for the night, you could barely see straight.

Max brushes a strand of hair back from your face, his expression growing serious. “You’re completely worn out, schatje. I hate seeing you push yourself to the breaking point like this.”

You give him a tired smile. “It’s okay, really. I’m used to the long hours by now. Occupational hazard.” It comes out less convincingly than you intended.

Max’s frown deepens. He shifts around to face you, cradling your cheek in his palm. “But you shouldn’t have to be used to it, Y/N. Your bosses take advantage of your dedication. It’s not right.”

You bite your lip, not meeting his earnest gaze. Deep down you know he’s correct, but you don’t know what else to do. This career has been your life for years now.

Max gently turns your face back to his. “You deserve so much better. You keep giving everything to this job and they just keep demanding more. When’s the last time you took a real break?”

You look down, feeling the prickle of tears. You can’t even remember your last vacation or rest day. “It’s okay, really ...” you whisper half-heartedly.

“No, it’s not.” Max’s voice is firm but caring. He tips your chin up to meet his eyes. “I can’t stand seeing you being taken advantage of. It makes me want to take care of you properly, the way you should be.”

Your breath catches at the intensity in his gaze. Being taken care of and cherished so deeply is new for you. You don’t know how to respond.

Max seems to take your silence as uncertainty. “Just think about it, liefje. You could finally put yourself first and do what makes you happy instead of what makes Sky Sports happy.” He caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Doesn’t a break to rest and recover sound nice?”

You close your eyes with a shaky exhale, admitting to yourself just how badly you need it. Your health and mental wellbeing have been steadily declining under the relentless stress.

“It really does sound nice,” you whisper. A few tears leak out beneath your lashes.

Max kisses them away tenderly, holding you close. “Shh I know, baby. You’re burning yourself out trying to do the impossible. Anyone would be exhausted.”

You cling to him, sniffling. “But it’s my job, my career. I can’t just walk away ...” Even as you say it, the prospect doesn’t seem as scary as it once did. Not if you get to have this, being wrapped in Max’s love and care.

“You can walk away from anything that’s making you suffer. You’re so much more than this job. And you’ll never have to worry or want for anything ever again.” His tone drips with promise.

You lean back to search his face. “What do you mean?”

Max smiles and brushes his nose against yours. “I mean, I’ll take care of you. If you leave your job to focus on yourself and our relationship, you will want for nothing. I’ll make sure of it.”

Your eyes go wide. “You mean … quit working altogether and just … be with you full time?”

Max nods, still smiling. “It can be that simple if you want. No more crazy hours and stress. Just let me spoil you and give you the life you deserve. What do you say?”

Your pulse races as you imagine it. No more coming home at 2 am and collapsing, living off vending machine snacks. Instead you could be leisurely mornings with Max, seeing the world together, doing activities you actually enjoy instead of endless stats analysis ...

It sounds idyllic. But could you really just stop working and let Max support you? Would people judge you for it?

As if reading your mind, Max says “Ignore whatever anyone else might think. This is about what’s right for you and makes you happy. I’m sure of this, Y/N. Please trust me.”

His eyes radiate so much love and certainty. Slowly you nod, feeling a weight lift from your chest.

“Okay,” you whisper. “If you’re sure then … I trust you, Max.”

Joy spreads across his face. He kisses you deeply, pouring all his feelings into it. When he finally pulls back you’re both breathless.

“You won’t regret this, schatje. I’m going to take such good care of you from now on.” Max strokes your hair, eyes shining. “No more exhaustion and stress. Just being together and enjoying life. It will be amazing.”

You truly believe it as you drift off, safe in his arms. No more pressure to single-handedly carry Sky Sports’ data analysis. From now on, you can just be his … and find yourself again.

The next day you take a deep breath and knock on your boss’ door. Within minutes, you’ve quit your job and ended a years long chapter. It feels bittersweet but right as you box up your belongings from your little makeshift office. This time when tears prick your eyes, they’re from overwhelming relief.

Max is waiting to pick you up, greeting you with a spinning hug and long kiss. “I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be so much happier and healthier from now on, I just know it.”

You hug him tight, burying your face in his neck. “I already feel lighter. This was the right choice.”

And it truly is. As you jet off to a tropical island just the two of you that weekend, it feels like a new life.

The days pass in a dreamy haze — sleeping in, long massages, breakfast in bed courtesy of Max, sunset walks on the beach holding hands. He delights in pampering you with gifts, gourmet meals, and your every whim met often before you even speak it.

“I could get used to this,” you sigh contentedly as you lounge together in a cabana, sipping fruity cocktails.

Max smiles and nuzzles your neck. “That’s the idea. You’ll never lift a finger except when you want to from now on.”

It amazes you how he transforms from fierce competitor on the track to this caring, protective boyfriend behind closed doors. He seems to find his greatest happiness in making sure you’re thoroughly spoiled.

You do occasionally think of the drastic shift your life has taken. But any flicker of doubt is erased by Max’s love and devotion. He’s given you freedom from exhaustion and anxiety. You’ve never felt more adored.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you whisper one night as you sway together on the balcony under the stars, your silk robe fluttering around you.

Max gazes at you like you hold the secrets of the universe. “You just had to be yourself, schatje. That’s all I’ll ever need.”

He takes your breath away with slow, passionate kisses until you meltingly agree to take things inside. Your first time together is everything you imagined and more.

Afterwards, lying entwined with Max stroking your hair, you have never felt more whole. You found in each other what you needed most — care, understanding, and unwavering love.

This blissful new life together has only just begun.

***

A Few Hours Ago

You hum to yourself as you flip through the designer outfits in your massive walk-in closet, selecting options for the upcoming race. This will be your first time attending a Grand Prix on Max’s arm and you want to look perfect.

As you sift through rows of Chanel, Dior, Valentino, and Prada, you feel a pair of familiar arms wrap around your waist.

“Need any help choosing?” Max asks, nuzzling your neck.

You lean back into him with a smile. “I was just trying to narrow it down. I want to look nice for your big weekend.”

Max turns you in his arms, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. “Schatje, you could show up in sweatpants and you’d still be the most beautiful woman there.”

You scrunch your nose. “But it’s Monaco! I need to look at least semi put-together.”

“It’s impossible for you to look anything but,” Max declares, stealing a quick kiss. “You always look perfect to me.”

You swat his chest but can’t help grinning. His constant compliments and admiration still give you flutters even after months together.

Taking your hand, Max comes to stand before the endless clothing options. “Okay, let’s see what we’re working with here.”

You pull out two of your favorites: a sleek black Balmain jumpsuit with a deep neckline and waist cutouts, and a shimmering floral Givenchy maxi dress.

“Ooh, these are both amazing,” Max says, fingering the luxe fabrics. “That jumpsuit would show off your sexy legs, but this fabric is so pretty with your skin tone ...”

You chew your bottom lip thoughtfully. “I’m torn too. What’s your vote?”

Max pretends to scrutinize them closely before breaking into a smile. “Well you know I love you in anything. Or nothing,” he adds with a wink.

You roll your eyes and swat him with a hanger. “Behave! I need actual fashion advice please.”

“Okay okay.” Max puts on an exaggerated serious expression. “The Givenchy dress is very classy and princess-like. But I love the way this Balmain hugs your curves.” To demonstrate, he traces a hand along the waist and down your side.

You shiver pleasantly at his touch. “Mmm, good point ...”

Max leans in close behind you, hands resting on your hips. “Imagine me peeling it off of you after my win.” He presses a kiss below your ear.

You melt back into him, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck. “Well when you put it that way ...”

“The dress would be pretty easy access too though.” Max slides his hands under the fabric across your thighs teasingly.

You gasp and swat him away again, laughing. “Okay stop distracting me! I really do need to pick.”

Max relents with a grin, holding up his hands in surrender. “Alright, you win. I officially vote for the dress. It’s sexy yet elegant, just like you.”

You smile and give him a peck on the lips. “Now, what about bags and shoes?”

You move through your endless options as Max offers his input. He has a surprising eye for fashion despite his own relaxed, sporty style.

“This one matches the best.” He selects a sleek black crocodile Birkin. “Classy and understated.”

You turn the bag over in your hands. “Ooh I forgot I had this one. Good call!”

After picking strappy heels to complete the look, you start browsing your jewelry selection.

“That’s a lot of shiny stuff,” Max remarks, eyes roving over the boxes of diamonds, emeralds, sapphires and more.

You arch an eyebrow. “Says the one who got carried away with the jewelry purchases ...”

Max just grins and pulls you close. “I want you to have it all. You deserve to be spoiled.” He captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

You hum happily against his mouth before pulling back. “Will you help me pick something?”

“Hmm let’s see ...” Max peruses the options before selecting an elegant diamond necklace. “Yeah, this one is perfect. Really complements the dress.”

He fastens it carefully around your neck, meeting your eyes in the mirror with a smile. His gaze trails down your body as you model the full outfit together.

“You look absolutely incredible, liefje. Every man in Monaco will be drooling over you.”

You turn to wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Well I only care about impressing one man.” You kiss the tip of his nose.

Max’s hands find your waist again, warm on your exposed skin. “Oh trust me, I am very impressed. And the second we’re alone after the race this outfit will be on the floor.”

You laugh as he nuzzles into your neck, nipping lightly. Somehow, you manage to fall more in love with Max every day.

You eventually disentangle, needing to actually get ready for the day ahead.

“What should I wear in the meantime?” You muse, fingers drifting over the designer options.

Before you can choose, Max comes up behind you and starts guiding a silk robe onto your shoulders.

“How about nothing at all? I’m enjoying this view already,” he murmurs against your skin as he wraps the sash loosely around your waist.

You lean back into him with a hum of pleasure. “Well if you insist ...”

Max takes your hand and leads you to the bed, laying you back against the pillows. He undoes the robe just enough to expose your body as he trails kisses everywhere. “Mmm yes, this is much better than any outfit.”

You run your fingers through his hair, arching into his touch. “What happened to getting ready for the race?” You breathe.

Max pauses his kisses just below your navel to flash a wicked grin up at you. “Race day can wait for a few more minutes. Right now I want to appreciate my gorgeous girl.”

You have zero arguments with that logic. With a happy sigh, you surrender to his skilled and eager mouth, letting all other concerns fade away. Everything else will have its turn — being worshiped by Max is the only thing on your schedule this morning.

Eventually though, you manage to dress and make your way to the circuit. As you ride through the streets together on the way, Max keeps an arm curled tightly around you.

“You know, despite the fancy clothes and jewelry, you’re still the same humble, kind-hearted woman I fell for,” Max says, kissing your temple. “All that other stuff just enhances your inner beauty.”

You smile and squeeze his hand as you lift your lips to meet his. “You always know just what to say.”

You keep your chin up and shoulders back as you step onto the harborside track that will soon be swarming with VIPs. With Max by your side, you have everything you need — now and always.

***

Monaco Grand Prix, 2025

The cheers of the crowd echo in your ears as you watch Max pass the chequered flag, securing his win. Your heart swells with pride and love as he pulls the car over to parc fermé and hops out, immediately searching for you on the other side of the barriers.

The second his eyes land on yours, his face lights up with that smile that melts you every time. He’s barely stepped out of the car before you launch yourself into his arms.

“You did it! I’m so proud of you,” you breathlessly exclaim.

Max laughs and pulls you closer. “I’m just happy to win it for you, liefje.”

Still holding you against his chest, he claims your mouth in a fierce celebratory kiss as the team and cameras swarm around. Your world narrows to just the feeling of his lips on yours, his race suit damp with sweat under your palms.

When you finally break for air, foreheads touching, Max murmurs “I love you so much. This one was for you.”

Your answering smile feels brighter than the Monaco sunshine. “I love you too. You were incredible today.”

The podium ceremony and interviews pass in a euphoric blur. Max keeps you tucked close to his side whenever he can, his arm firmly around your waist. He only has eyes for you despite the chaos surrounding him.

Finally escaping to the privacy of his driver’s room in the Red Bull motorhome, Max properly ravages you up against the door. The heady mix of victory and desire is intoxicating.

Much later, surrounded by empty champagne bottles with Max nuzzling lazy kisses across your bare shoulders, you hear a tentative knock.

“Decent?” Comes Emma’s teasing voice.

“Just a minute!” You call out, scrambling for your discarded dress.

Max pouts adorably as you wriggle back into it. “Do we have to go out? I’m enjoying having you all to myself ...”

You smile and kiss him sweetly. “Soon baby. But let’s celebrate with some friends first.”

Max sighs but nods, taking your hand as you go open the door. Emma’s eyebrows shoot up as she takes in your thoroughly debauched state, but she politely doesn’t comment.

“Y/N! There you are! Oh, and congrats on the win,” she says to Max before turning back to you. “We’re all heading to Jimmy’z for the afterparty. You have to come!”

You hesitate, glancing at Max. “Oh, actually we already have plans ...”

“Come on, it will be like old times! We can squeeze you both in, I’m sure,” Emma pleads. Your former colleagues are beckoned over — Tom, Will, Sarah, and others waving excitedly.

Their eager faces make you pause, but Max just chuckles and slides an arm around your waist. “No need for squeezing into crowded clubs. I’ve already reserved some VIP booths so we can party properly.” He winks down at you.

“Oh! Well in that case, we’ll see you there.” Emma looks impressed. The others chatter excitedly as they head off to get ready.

You grin up at Max, arms looped around his neck. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Only the best for you, beautiful.” He kisses you softly before you head off hand-in-hand.

After making yourselves presentable again, you set out into the Monaco night. The Circuit de Monaco is still abuzz with energy, music and laughter pouring from every corner.

The line outside Jimmy’z stretches far down the block. But the bouncer immediately waves you through with a respectful “Mr. Verstappen, this way please.”

You exchange a smile with Max, who keeps you tucked close against his side. It still feels surreal being ushered into exclusive areas that once intimidated you. Now it’s your glamorous new normal.

“Y/N, you made it!” Emma jumps up and hugs you tight. She eyes your designer outfit and perfectly styled hair. “Damn, look at you! Got that WAG glow going on.”

You smooth your hands self-consciously over your dress. “Oh, thanks! Just trying to look the part, I guess.”

You chat and laugh with Emma and your former coworkers as music pulses around you. When the Go-Go dancer comes by with a tray of sparklers, you impulsively grab two, popping one in your mouth and handing the other to a wide-eyed Emma.

She fumbles to light hers, watching as you tilt your head back and laugh, little sparks showering your face.

“Girl, you are wild tonight!” Emma has to shout over the music. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

You just smile and rummage through your Birkin for lipstick to touch up, crossing and uncrossing your legs that sport sky-high Louboutins. Your time working 18 hour days hunched over a laptop feels like another lifetime.

Eventually needing a break from the noise, you head to the bar to refresh your drink. Emma joins you, peering at the menu.

“Damn, I can’t even pronounce half this stuff,” she laughs. “What are you thinking of getting?”

You scan the options. “Mmm, maybe the Dom Pérignon Rosé? Sounds nice.”

Emma shakes her head in disbelief. “You really have gone full glam. I don’t think I ever saw you drink anything but Heineken at the track.”

You scoff, “Well we didn’t exactly have champagne on offer in our part of the paddock.”

You smile politely as the bartender brings your drink over. Emma is still eyeing you curiously.

“What?” You ask, laughing under her scrutiny.

“Nothing, just ...” She waves a hand at you. “Look at you with the designer outfit, Birkin bag, $500 drinks … you’re a whole new woman!”

You take a sip of the bubbly pink liquid and just smile. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, not at all!” Emma rushes to say. “You seem really happy. I’ve just never seen you like this before. You were always the practical, focused one. Now you look … fully embraced by the glitz.”

You lean against the bar, considering her words. She’s right — the old you never could’ve imagined fully embracing this lifestyle. But now you can’t imagine anything else.

“I am happier than I’ve ever been,” you tell her honestly. “With Max I’m free to enjoy life and not worry about anything. He takes care of it all.”

Emma raises her eyebrows. “So he just … pays for everything, and you live this champagne lifestyle together?”

You smile, fingering the enormous diamond on your left hand. “Basically, yes. And it’s as amazing as it sounds. I’ll never need to work or stress over bills or anything again.”

“Huh.” Emma takes a thoughtful sip of her own drink. “Don’t you ever miss the thrill of data crunching and racing strategy though?”

You consider it for a moment. The thought of long hours analyzing race stats and performance metrics makes your brain hurt.

“You know … I really don’t,” you realize. “I can barely even remember the programs and systems we used. And I like it that way.”

Emma nods slowly. You can tell she’s making an effort to be open-minded about your new life. Before she can respond, you feel the presence of someone behind you.

“There’s my beautiful girl,” Max murmurs, sliding his arms around your waist and nuzzling your neck. “This party is nowhere near as fun without you.”

You lean back into him happily. His passion and desire for you still give you the same flutters as that first night together in Barcelona. You doubt that will ever change.

Turning in his arms, you accept the kiss he gives you, not caring that Emma is still standing there. Let her see how crazy you are for each other.

When you pull back, Max smiles down at you like you’re the only person in the crowded club. “Dance with me?” He extends a hand, already gently pulling you towards the dancefloor.

You let him lead you away without a backwards glance. Emma can think what she wants, but she can’t possibly understand your relationship with Max. You know this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

Max hands you a fresh glass of champagne and keeps an arm curled around your waist as you sway together. The music and alcohol fill you with euphoria.

“Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?” Max murmurs in your ear, his breath hot on your skin.

You smile up at him coyly. “Feel free to keep reminding me.”

Max’s answering grin is sinful. His hands travel your body as you move together. “I plan to show you later just how irresistible I find you.”

The night flies by in a blur of dancing, drinks, and stolen kisses in the shadows with Max. Your former colleagues party into the early morning, but eventually stumble back to their hotels.

You and Max retreat back to your shared apartment just as dawn breaks over the horizon. As promised, your dress hits the floor immediately. He ravages you with hungry kisses, urging you higher and higher until you cry out his name again and again.

After, wrapped securely in his arms, you sigh in utter contentment. The smooth sheets feel divine against your skin and Max gently strokes your hair as you doze against his chest.

“So I take it you had fun?” He asks, a smile in his voice.

You lift your head to grin at him. “It was amazing. Although ...” You bite your lip coyly.

Max raises an eyebrow. “Although what, schatje?”

“Well, this part is still my favorite.” You punctuate your point by straddling his waist again, bending to kiss him deeply.

Max groans appreciatively against your mouth, hands grasping your hips. “Mmm mine too. In fact, I don’t think we’re done celebrating yet ...”

Your lips part in ecstasy and your nails rake down his back as he takes you right to the edge again and again. Finally collapsing in a tangle of sweaty limbs, you’re both completely spent and blissful. You curl into Max’s side, eyes drifting shut.

“I love you so much,” you murmur, the words slurring together.

Max kisses your hair, stroking your back. “I love you too, Y/N. Being with you is a dream.”

You slip into peaceful dreams still wrapped in each other. The glitz and glamour of F1 life is fun, but nothing compares to the private world you share with Max.

You’ll face the crowds and cameras again soon. But right now, lost in Max’s embrace, you have everything you need.

[touchstarvedbbg]

Touchstarved LI General headcanons

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Pairings : Touchstarved LIs x reader in some!

General : Played through the demo again recently and wanted to touch up on some general headcanons!! I came out of this experience with a new love hate relationship for ais 😭

Warnings : None :)) this is SFW

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Vere

|🩰| Vere has been alive for an incredibly long time, though I don’t think he’s entirely immortal. He cannot be killed by natural human causes (old age, sickness, murder). But I do believe that he could most definitely be killed by the hands of something more powerful than him (the allmother, or even Kuras)…. Hopefully the devs don’t kill him

|🩰| He seems like the type to have physical touch as a love language, but more giving than receiving. I don’t think he’d be a fan of being touched spontaneously.

|🩰| Typically has a very airy, light tone to his voice. It’s sultry and has a fake innocence to it, but can quickly drop into a more rough tone.

|🩰| Has hundreds of drawings of people he has seen throughout the years in various situations, even people he doesn’t like. Despite disliking some of his subjects, he draws them as they are most of the time. They can be beautiful and, in his eyes, still suck. (Ahem.)

|🩰| Once In a while though he’ll slightly alter the persons appearance just enough to make them question everything. Psychological warfare in a way.

|🩰| Has a surprisingly low alcohol tolerance for somebody who it seems is at the bar with Leander and Ais quite frequently. Very picky with his alcohol, he doesn’t like it tasting too much like straight booze but still appreciates a little buzz to it (his drink of choice is wine)

|🩰| Slightly wavy hair, maybe around 2A-2B. His sprites in game look rather straight, but come on, he’d look so good with wavy hair 🫣.

|🩰| On that note, he definitely takes good care of it BUT also is very bare bones with what that entails. (I.e. it’s always neatly done and brushed, but he probably uses the eridian equivalent of 3 in 1 shampoo or whatever the senobium gives him)

Leander

|🩰| Has a body count higher than one would like (and probably a rice purity score low enough to make most concerned…) but hasn’t had many long-term, serious partners. Has a hard time getting attached to people, but when he falls he falls very hard.

|🩰| Was most definitely a problem child growing up. If Kuras’s clinic wasn’t free of charge he’d be in debt that would take lifetimes to pay off.

|🩰| Tramp stamp. No elaboration needed.

|🩰| Always acts like a tough guy in public and tries to impress others to the ends of the earth… but would probably refuse to watch any movie where a dog dies. (Valid)

|🩰| INCREDIBLY smart academically, but makes tons of poor life choices. He’d simultaneously get in trouble for deciding to light firecrackers in the boys bathroom while having straight 100s in the hardest of classes.

|🩰| Big on gift giving!!! He sees something he thinks you’d like and finds a way to get it. Seems like the type to give his partner a bouquet of flowers weekly without fail. However if you give him something else he’d totally pull the “you don’t need to get me anything” card. (he cherishes it dearly)

|🩰| In a normal world he’d definitely be a frat bro (so sorry.) fishing, and taking photos with the fish, would be a weekend activity for him and his followers.

|🩰| He likes curve on his partners. Out of all of the LIs, I’d see him adoring having a bigger partner! Very supportive of the few people he chooses to give his full love to. (He really saves it for the best people)

Ais

|🩰| HES A PRICK (and one of my favs). Even after getting into a relationship with somebody he won’t stop riling them up unless absolutely necessary. Ask him why and he’ll just 🤷‍♂️

|🩰| Always has his hands on his partner in some way. Personal fav idea is having a hand wrapped around their waist (regardless of gender it’s just so 🫣)

|🩰| Takes a long time to open up to other people emotionally. For a while he’ll keep up the douche act. It’s definitely a way to make sure people around him don’t stab him in the back somehow.

|🩰| Definitely a night person. He does his best work in the dark of night (regardless of how many times he tells you it’s unsafe at night). He also likes the night so he can drink and catch up with Vere.

|🩰| Longer lifespan than a human, but not immortal in the same way that Vere or Kuras are. He’s definitely going to be (and already has been) around for quite some time.

|🩰| Most of his companions are soulless or other animals/monsters. Somewhere in his past he probably has been betrayed in some way, so he’s very locked up emotionally.

|🩰| He’s got big hands😻

|🩰| Really good cook. When he volunteers at the clinic he makes food for those who need it as a rescue effort.

|🩰| Has a really good photographic and numerical memory. Ask him a name for somebody he should know and he’ll have no clue- but ask him the exact number of atoms there are in an element or where he placed a needle in a haystack? He’ll know it.

|🩰| He has some sharp teeth naturally… but he probably tried to sharpen the others at some point to look more badass

Mhin

|🩰| Has a younger looking face, but is definitely way older than they look.

|🩰| Figures out one method of doing things quickly and sticks to it. Doesn’t toy around much with new methods once they’ve found a working one out of fear of screwing up. (To be fair, most of what they do has very little room for error)

|🩰| Mhin strikes me as a horrible student, but they’re not at all dumb. Simply, they would be more suited to more hands on learning than a typical educational experience.

|🩰| Very big on quality time. Especially the silent kind. Their favorite thing to do with a lover is to walk around outside where it’s quiet. Mhin hates that crowded spaces that eridia has an abundance of, a break is always welcome.

|🩰| Hard-headed and doesn’t take no for an answer under most circumstances. They’re resilient and always follow through on things once they agree to it (however hard it may be to get them to agree..)

|🩰| At some point in their past they’ve most definitely experienced being treated as if they’re glass about to shatter. They hate the feeling of it and as such do their best to remain independent unless absolutely necessary.

|🩰| Cat person!

|🩰| VERY random but I’d see them wearing a perfume/cologne with rainwater and musk as the notes! It’s unique and calming while being slightly off-putting. Whatever it is they use though, it most certainly was a gift and is on its last spray. They’re very frugal.

Kuras

|🩰| Similarly to Vere, he couldn’t be killed by human methods, but certainly could be smited by the allmother.

|🩰| I did my research, and angels do eat- however not a human food (manna- psalm 78:25, though the meaning of it is up to many interpretations). Clearly, he’s not getting this on earth. As such he most definitely hungers, but not for something that he has any hope of getting (similarly to redemption.)

|🩰| Actually cannot tolerate most human foods or beverages. As an angel, he wasn’t made to digest it (it’s been mentioned he fakes eating.) he probably could handle a drink or two, but his tolerance to it is laughable at best.

|🩰| Big on words of service. He praises his partners whenever he finds reason to. He’s incredibly loving, but doesn’t seem touchy or available like the others are (so words are his favorite)

|🩰| He often keeps the clinic frigid. Kuras himself is naturally very warm and doesn’t notice the cold, however his patients (along with Ais and Mhin who both seem to frequent the clinic) certainly do.

|🩰| he is an angel, but since he is in a human form I could see him on VERY rare occasions catching diseases or getting fatigued in this form. However he usually pushes through it and it goes away within a day or two.

|🩰| His handwriting is unreadable but beautiful. No matter how hard he tries to make it look legible, it ends up looking like an ancient text.

|🩰| He has some very androgynous features all over (angels don’t have genders themselves). Honestly he may very well be intersex in some regard. If it wasn’t for his voice and the fact he’s so tall, some features would be a quite difficult to discern as masculine or feminine.

[81folklore]

heaven - PIASTRI - part 5

pairings: oscar piastri x private!reader (fc: gracie abrams)

summary: australian adventures of yn and oscar

type: social media au (smau)

authors note: IM BACK WRITING MY FAVORITE ANGELS!!! ive been feeling slightly more motivated so i thought id just continue a story instead of creating a new one (at least whilst im in this slump) i do hope you enjoy!!

heaven masterlist masterlist

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 7,191 others

oh australia how ive missed you and your gifts 💫

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user3 whats the best gift australia has given you??

yourusername oscar!!! liked by oscarpiastri

user3 SHUT THE FUCK UP WHATTTT?!?!??

user62 i feel SICK THEYRE SO??

oscarpiastri oh my goddd

oscarpiastri 😍😍

user4 you cannot separate oscar from that emoji

yourusername not even i can😕😕

oscarpiastri you can pry it from my cold dead hands

user81 that dog is so stinking cute

user22 yess but that dress is GORGEOUS

user5 right shes sooooooo pretty liked by oscarpiastri

user88 australia is the one whos lucky!! liked by oscarpiastri

user67 like they are being blessed with the yn ln

yourfriend3 you are oh so lovely liked by oscarpiastri

yourfriend3 i take it back stop your boyf from liking my comments abt you

yourusername he loves me🥰🥰

oscarpiastri i do!! its true!!

oscarpiastri 📍location home

liked by yourusername, lilymhe and 52,281 others

my favorite lady in my favorite place

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user18 SHE IS HIS FAVORITE LADY OH MU GOD😭😭

user17 AND HIS FAVORITE PLACE IS HOME😭

user24 oh my god she is gorgeous liked by oscarpiastri

user84 i will never ever get tired of them

user28 i hope theyre in love forever and ever liked by oscarpiastri

user55 oscar liking this comment☹️☹️

yourusername my babyyyy

yourusername oh how ill always love you liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri 🩷🩷

twitter

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 8,729 others

the day you entered my world you changed my entire view on life and myself, you help me find love and happiness in things i never expected and showed me how to appreciate the smallest things in life.

sometimes i wonder if im being selfish, how can i be worthy of all the love and time youve given to me? surely there is someone more deserving, someone who needs everything youve showed me more? i think about what i must have done in a past life to be gifted with you and then i wonder if we are destined.

maybe i dont deserve you in this life, maybe i dont deserve you in a thousand other lifes. but i believe we are meant to be which means for every universe we dont find eachother, we find eachother in a hundred more

im so glad we found each other, i dont know if i deserve you but i promise i will cherish and appreciate you the way i have done for 6 years and the way i will continue to love you for as long as this universe allows and then i will love you even longer in another

six years used to feel like forever but now ill never have enough time, happy anniversary lovely

view comments

oscarpiastri you continue to help my heart keep beating

oscarpiastri i didnt think love was real until i found you

oscarpiastri we will find eachother in every universe i promise

oscarpiastri you are the prettiest and most lovely person i have ever met and you deserve everything and more

yourusername my good looking boyyyy🩵🩵

user29 i have no words i cant comprehend what im reading

user10 i feel so violently ill they are so sweet

user62 my parents everyone!!!

user53 is that an engagement ring?!

user33 wait pause

user5 theres no way right??

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 62,379 others

you’ve impacted my life in more ways than you will ever know and im so thankful that i get to love you for all eternity, you have such a beautiful soul and i can’t believe i get to hold it

happy six years and to a lifetime more

view comments

yourusername you are so so incredible

yourusername i dont know how many other ways i can say it but i love you

oscarpiastri i love you too

user66 they are sooooo

user7 oh my gooooood i am a puddle of tears

user56 you just dont get them like i do

user32 anyone else sad we didnt get a long caption like yns was beautiful

yourusername oscar said more than enough in his letter☺️

user43 OH MY GOD HE WROTE HER A LETTER😭😭😭😭

user3 six years.. six damn years and they are still so in love

user48 guys are they engaged or not😭

yourusername not!! we are still young and exploring ourselves and the world and we are still grow into better people. we didnt want to rush when we still have so many things to do but we will when we know we are ready🩷 liked by oscarpiastri

user65 i didnt know it was possible to love two random strangers so much☹️☹️

yourusername added to their story

seen by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 9,372 others

text on story reads: 🩷🩷🩷

oscarpiastri added to their story

seen by yourusername, aussiegrit and 105,482 others

text on story reads: sunshine ☀️☀️

twitter

[janeyseymour]

Save Me Before I Lose Myself- part 1

Summary: save me, before i lose myself- your child is in melissa’s class, and you’re almost always late bringing your kiddo to school and picking them up, aggravating the second grade teacher. that is, until she realizes why.

WC: ~2.55k

If there is one thing that Melissa Schemmenti, second grade teacher at Abbott Elementary, hates, it is parents who drop their kids off or pick them up after the allotted time. So, it’s quite safe to say that you are high up on the list of parents that the fiery redheaded teacher hates.

You’re almost always late taking your sweet little girl to school, which in turn makes you late to work. And because you’re late arriving at your job, you’re usually forced to stay a bit later at your desk job while you get reprimanded by your supervisor for your tardiness. If only those around you who hated your knack for poor timing knew why.

Everyday, you wake up next to your asshole of a wife. Everyday, it’s your job to wake up your daughter, because you know that Carrie is too hungover to do anything with your daughter- much less have the patience to handle the somehow simultaneously exhausted and excitable little one that you are blessed to have as a daughter. Everyday, you drag yourself around the house in the morning, attempting to keep up with the infectious giggles and warm hugs when you so desperately want to lay in bed and not move to prevent the aching in your bones. Everyday, your morning routine of silly tunes and cherished little kid laughs morphs into heartwrenching tears and your daughter begging for just one more hug.

Finally, you ask your little sunshine why she has such big emotions about leaving you to head to school- it’s not like she feels this way about Carrie.

“B-because!” Millie blubbers out. “Because what if I don’t get to see you again? I need momma hugs!”

Your brows furrow, and a slight frown appears on your face as the wrinkle lines in your forehead deepen. “What, baby? Why would you not see me again?”

You watch eyes that match your wife’s flit around, ensuring that Carrie is still asleep and not lurking just around the corner. Millie’s voice drops to a whisper. “Because, Momma, I know Mom’s hurting you.”

You freeze, but you try not to show your daughter that her inkling is one hundred percent true. Your mind and body finally jumpstart after an admittedly too long pause. “Honey, what would make you think that? Momma and Mom are just fine.”

Millie shakes her head adamantly and continues to cling. You allow her to before you know you have to pull away. “My love, we have to get going to school.”

“Don’t wanna,” the seven year old murmurs into the crook of your neck. “Don’t want you to not come back.”

Getting her into Abbott is more of a hassle than it usually is, what with your daughter’s mind swirling. It takes longer than usual for you to get her to the classroom, much less for you to get her to sit down. You don’t miss the glares that the redheaded teacher sends your way as you continue to assure Millie that you’ll always make it back to her. 

As you finally get your little girl to settle in her seat and you make your way to leave the building to just barely make it to your job on time, you hear a voice. A deep voice that doesn’t sound too thrilled with you.

“Y/N?” Melissa calls after you. “I’d like to speak with you for a moment, if you would.” She tells you in such a tone that leaves no room for argument. Almost like a child being marched to the principal’s office, you look down at your shoes as you wait by the door for her. She ensures that all of her students are doing their morning work before leading you into the hall and closing her door so that it’s open just a crack.

“You know, Millie is an incredibly smart little girl, but if she continues to be late to school, she’s going to fall behind academically. I would hate for that to happen,” the redhead tells you sternly. “If she is tardy one more time, I have to start giving her demerits, which is not something I would like to do.”

“I understand,” you sigh softly, refusing to meet her gaze. 

“She should’ve been getting them for weeks now, but I’ve held off,” your daughter’s teacher admits. “If I keep doing that though, I will be in some trouble with administration though.” You nod your head. “I also think that if Millie has such separation anxiety from you, she may benefit from saying goodbye to you at your house and coming to school with your wife.”

You bite your bottom lip. “I- I’m afraid I can’t make that one work,” you mumble.

“And why would that be?” Green eyes dare you to answer.

You know you can’t tell your child’s teacher the truth. You can’t. And if you do, or give even a small, subtle hint towards what’s been happening at home and Carrie catches wind of it, you’re fucked. “It’s just that I’m in charge of pickup and drop off.”

“Y/N,” Melissa says. “If you want to make this transition from home to school easier for your daughter, I really do think-”

“Miss Schemmenti,” you cut her off gently as you hold up a hand. “I really do have to be getting to work.”

“Very well,” the redhead sighs as her eyebrows creep up her forehead. It’s clear you’ve stunned her. “I’ll see you for pickup… on time.”

You just give her what you hope is a convincing nod. You know you won’t be on time, and you’re positive you’re going to be getting another stern talking to later in the day.

You’re forced to stay late after work, being reprimanded by your boss. Your head hangs low as you begin the walk down to your daughter’s school. And then your phone rings, and your wife’s contact lights up your screen.

“Hey,” you say softly.

“Why haven’t you picked up Millie yet?” are the first words out of Carrie’s mouth. No hello, no how are you. Just words practically spit out of her mouth.

“I’m on my way now,” you promise her quietly. “I got caught up at work.”

“Her bitch of a teacher called. Asked if I was coming since you hadn’t. Said Millie is in tears,” your wife tells you with a bite. “Maybe you should start putting more effort into your daughter than your fuckin’ job.”

It takes everything in you to not comment that perhaps it’s her who should try caring about your daughter- both of your daughter. You’ve found it more and more often she only refers to your bright little light as solely yours.

The words “I’m sorry” roll off your tongue for the first time of many today. You promise that you’re on your way to pick her up, and then you’ll be home to make dinner and settle in for the night with Millie.

When you finally get to the front steps of Abbott, you expect to see Melissa staring you down with hatred in her eyes. Instead, she’s sitting on the steps with an arm wrapped around your daughter, and she looks rather lost. Millie is beside herself as she clings to her teacher’s leather jacket. As soon as her eyes set on you, little legs race for you and tackle you in a hug with such a force that you can’t repress the groan in pain that bubbles it’s way out of your body. 

“Hi, baby girl,” you whisper out as you smooth down as many of her flyaways as you can. “Hey, sweet girl.”

Millie just continues to whimper out your name as she clings to your sweater. Only once you feel that you’ve properly greeted your daughter and soothed her worries to the best of your ability do you glance at the teacher still sitting on the front stoop in front of you. The emerald eyes that usually look at you with such distain instead have an inkling of sorrow and sympathy in them.

“Miss Schemmenti, I’m so sorry I’m late,” is all you can get out. “I- I’m sorry.”

She just shakes her head sadly. “No, I’m sorry.”

Your brows furrow. That was probably the last thing you had expected to come out of her mouth. Your head tilts slightly to the side. “I beg your pardon?”

Melissa stands from her place, dusts herself off, and points towards the door. “I think we need to have a conversation in my classroom.”

“I really should be getting Mille home,” you try to protest weakly as you attempt to pry your daughter from your leg. “My wife is waiting for us, and she’s expecting dinner.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind if it’s just a bit later,” the redhead argues. “I really do think it would be best if we had this conversation today. Unless you would rather have your wife present when we speak of the matter?” Melissa knows she’s bluffing- she would never call Carrie in here, but she isn’t a poker champion without her outstanding poker face.

You freeze momentarily. She can’t call Carrie- that would not go over well for you at home tonight. “I- okay,” you agree quietly. “Just let me let her know we’ll be a bit later than she’s expecting.”

Once you’ve gotten in contact with your wife (and she is not thrilled about dinner not being on the table as early as she was expecting), you follow the redhead into the school silently. She takes a seat behind her desk and points towards a desk for you to take a seat at. Then she glances to your daughter. “Mill, why don’t you go make yourself comfortable on the bean bag and pick a good book to-”

“Melissa?” another voice rings out. It’s one that you’re familiar with. Mrs. Howard’s.

“Hey, Barb,” the second grade teacher gives a wave.

“You’re still here?”

“Meeting with a parent.”

Millie’s old kindergarten teacher gets a glance at you. “Hello, Mrs. Howard.”

“Hello, dear,” the warm voice says. “I hope you’ve been well.”

You can’t find the words, so you just nod through a tight lip.

Your daughter’s squeaky voice fills the room. “Mrs. Howard?” Little legs race for the kindergarten teacher.

“Hey, baby,” Barbara greets your daughter. “You’re still here?”

“Momma and Miss Schemmenti have a meeting. I’m reading on the carpet.”

“Well, why don’t you come join Mrs. Howard while they talk about boring grown up things?”

You cut in softly when your daughter lights up at the thought. “I’m sure Mrs. Howard has things to get home to, Millie.”

“Oh, please,” Barbara chuckles. “All I have at home is a husband waiting for dinner. He’ll understand if I’m late because I wanted to spend some time with one of my favorite former students.” She takes your daughter’s hand and leads her out of the room and down the hall. While you feel bad for putting your daughter off on your daughter’s former teacher, you’re entirely unaware of the fact that Melissa had orchestrated that little stunt earlier at lunch today to get you alone. And absolutely willing to help, Barbara agreed.

With your daughter no longer in the presence of the classroom, Melissa turns to you again. “Y/N, I wanted to speak with you about something concerning Millie told me today.”

Your blood runs cold. You know where this is going. Still though, you pretend to be unaware. “And that would be?”

“Well, once Millie calmed down from drop off this morning, I asked her why she always comes into school so upset when she very clearly loves being here once she’s settled in.” You nod along. “She told me that she was worried one day you wouldn’t come back to her.”

“Yes, I’m aware of this,” you tell her. “And we’re working through it.”

“I normally wouldn’t pull a parent into my room for something like that, because it isn’t necessarily uncommon for kiddos her age to have those fears. But-“

“But?”

“But when you were late picking her up, which I normally would hate-”

“I’ll pick her up on time from now on,” you state, fully knowing that you will be getting into so much trouble with your boss. But, Millie comes first, and you can always finish your hours from home if necessary.

“That is also not why I brought you in here,” the teacher tells you. “When you were later than usual, Millie burst into tears. I told her I would call you, but you didn’t answer.”

“I was in a meeting with my boss,” you sigh.

“And then she really went off,” Melissa whispers. “Crying about how you weren’t coming back for her because ‘Mom did it’.”

“I- I don’t know what she could possibly mean by that,” you stammer out.

“I think you do,” Melissa sighs as she runs a nervous hand through her hair. “But, continuing, I called Carrie to ask if she was going to come get your daughter. She- she was not very happy to receive a call from me.”

“I’m aware,” you mumble.

“I gotta say, she was not very pleasant,” your daughter’s second grade teacher says. “Definitely the opposite of you. Told me to go to hell for even insinuating that she would come get your daughter.”

“I’m sorry,” you mutter. “She- she’s- I’m sorry.”

“That’s not the most concerning part about all of this,” Melissa sighs out. She bites her bottom lip. “When I asked Millie if everything was okay at home… If I thought she was crying before, damn.” You can’t find it in you to say anything in response, so you stay silent. “Millie told me that Carrie hurts you. That she’s always terrified of leaving you and then you not coming back because she’s killed you- that’s what she meant when she said ‘Mom did it’.”

“You’ve- you’ve met my little girl,” you say as evenly as you can, even attempting a chuckle. You refuse to meet the redhead’s eyes. “She’s got quite the imagination on her.”

“Millie told me that she hears the two of you late at night, when you think she’s asleep. She knows what’s happening, or at least thinks she knows.”

“We’ll- I’ll have a conversation with her tonight about how her mother and I are fine- that nothing is-”

“Y/N,” Melissa cuts you off. “I’m going to ask you, just this once, is Carrie abusing you?” The way that the woman in front of you asks the question tells you she already knows the answer. 

You freeze in the chair you’re sitting in. Your right legs stops bouncing, you stop twiddling your thumbs, you even stop breathing for a few seconds. You weigh your options: fold and tell her that things are… rocky (an understatement) between you and your wife but assure her that Millie is fine, or run.

You don’t get to make a decision, because before you know it, Millie is racing into the room, Barbara Howard not far behind. And your little girl yanks off your sweater to reveal a canvas of purple, yellow, and green going up your arms. And in that moment, you know… you’re fucked.

Part 2

tags:  (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights

[movingmusically]

hiii, how are you? :) I keep thinking about austin talking about how he used to go to Disneyland with his mom and how cherished those memories are so I was wondering if you could write something about austin taking his girlfriend to Disney for the first time (like, her first time but also his bc he hadn't been there since ages) and making new memories <3 thank you

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

The Happiest Place on Earth

The morning air was crisp, the kind of rare, perfect California day where the sky stretched endlessly in a soft blue haze—warm but not stifling, with just enough of a breeze to make it comfortable. You stood at the entrance of Disneyland, fingers laced tightly with Austin’s, your excitement barely contained.

It had been years since he’d been back—not since a past relationship, long enough that the memory felt distant but not so long that the nostalgia wasn’t there. And for you? It was your first time. You’d never had the chance to go as a kid, never known the giddy anticipation of waiting in line for your favourite ride, or the magic of seeing the castle light up at night. But today, that was changing.

“You ready?” Austin asked, squeezing your hand, his blue eyes alight with something that looked an awful lot like boyish excitement.

You grinned up at him, your stomach fluttering. “More than ready.”

The moment you stepped inside, it was overwhelming in the best way. The music, the scents of churros and popcorn drifting through the air, the cheerful buzz of families and couples moving through Main Street—it was everything you’d imagined and more. But the best part was Austin.

You watched as his gaze flickered over the familiar sights, his features softening, a quiet sort of nostalgia settling into his expression. He didn’t say it outright, but you could tell—being here meant something to him.

He caught you watching and huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “Man, this is weird.”

“In a good way?” you asked, brushing your thumb along the side of his hand.

He nodded, glancing around. “Yeah. It’s just been so long. I used to come here all the time with my mom and sister when I was homeschooled. Some days, my mom would just wake us up and say, ‘Let’s go to Disneyland,’ like it was no big deal.”

You smiled at the thought. “That sounds amazing.”

“It was,” he said, his voice a little softer now. “We’d come on random weekdays when it wasn’t too crowded. My mom would let us pick one thing each that we had to do—my sister always wanted the teacups, I wanted Pirates of the Caribbean.” His lips curved slightly. “I remember being obsessed with the ride as a kid. I used to close my eyes and pretend I was actually on a ship.”

You bit back a smile. “So you were a pirate kid?”

“Oh, one hundred percent,” he said without hesitation. “Had the little sword and everything.”

The mental image made you laugh. “I need photographic evidence.”

“You’ll have to ask my grandma,” he teased. “She probably still has a stack of pictures somewhere.”

Your heart swelled a little at the thought—his childhood memories, his grandma saving old photos, the way Disneyland still felt like a piece of home to him, even after all these years.

You leaned in, nudging his shoulder. “Then we have to go on Pirates at least twice. Make little Austin proud.”

He chuckled, but there was something tender in the way he looked at you. “You’re gonna love it.”

And you did.

You weren’t sure what was more fun—the ride itself or seeing Austin slip into full tour guide mode, pointing out little details along the way, sharing trivia he’d clearly known since childhood. He was grinning before the boat had even left the dock, and when you hit the first drop, he turned to you immediately, watching your reaction more than the ride itself.

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here,” you said breathlessly as you floated past the animatronic pirates, taking in every detail. “This is incredible.”

Austin beamed. “Told you.”

By the time you stumbled off the ride, your excitement was still buzzing through you, but Austin had something else in mind.

“Okay,” he said, his grip tightening around your hand. “I have something important to show you.”

“Another childhood favourite?” you guessed, letting him lead you through the crowds.

“More important than that,” he said, stopping abruptly in front of a cart.

Your eyes flickered over the stand’s display, and your lips parted with understanding. “Mickey ears.”

Austin nodded solemnly. “It’s a requirement.”

You laughed. “I knew this was coming.”

“I was gonna give you a choice, but now I’m thinking I should just pick for you,” he teased, eyeing the selection.

You beat him to it, grabbing a pair of classic rose gold sequined ears and settling them onto your head. “There,” you said, striking a dramatic pose. “How do I look?”

His lips twitched, eyes scanning you with exaggerated scrutiny. “Like a walking Instagram post.”

“Perfect.” You grinned, then grabbed a plain black pair and handed them to him. “Your turn.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Just classic black? Not even the Sorcerer Mickey hat? No light-up ones?”

“These suit you. Classic, understated, effortlessly cool.”

He squinted at you. “Are you describing me or the ears?”

“Both.”

Shaking his head, he took the ears and placed them on his head.

You stepped back and tilted your head, pretending to inspect him. “You know, I think they really bring out your eyes.”

He laughed, the sound rich and full, and you knew you’d remember that sound long after today.

“I have to admit,” he said, nudging you as he pulled out his phone. “We look pretty damn good.”

You leaned in as he snapped a quick selfie, one arm wrapped around your shoulder as he angled the phone. The screen reflected the two of you—his Mickey ears slightly askew, your rose gold ones glittering obnoxiously in the sunlight, matching grins on your faces. He looked at the picture and smirked. “Alright, we’ve officially reached peak Disney couple.”

“Speaking of peak Disney,” you said, slipping your hand back into his. “I believe I was promised a churro.”

Austin’s expression turned serious. “A fair request.”

You barely made it three steps before he spotted the nearest churro stand and led you straight to it. The line moved quickly, and soon, he was handing you a warm, cinnamon-dusted churro. He watched as you took your first bite, eyes scanning your face for a reaction.

You closed your eyes for effect, humming dramatically. “Oh my god. This is life-changing.”

Austin chuckled. “That good, huh?”

You nodded solemnly. “I might need three more.”

“Noted,” he said, already taking his own bite. His eyes closed briefly, and you could practically see the nostalgia washing over him.

When he opened them again, his voice had softened. “Man, I forgot how good these were.”

You swallowed your bite, nudging him lightly. “What’s your favourite memory here?”

He exhaled, eyes flicking around the park before settling back on you. “Honestly?” He paused. “Probably watching the fireworks with my mom and sister. I remember she’d hold me on her hip so I could see better, and she’d whisper stuff like, ‘Make a wish, baby.’” He smiled a little, lost in the memory. “And I always did.”

You felt something ache in your chest. “What did you wish for?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t even remember. Probably something dumb, like unlimited ice cream.”

“Solid wish.”

“Right?” He grinned, bumping your shoulder. Then, a little softer, “I think she knew, though. That I wasn’t really wishing for things. I think she just wanted me to believe in something.”

You squeezed his hand, the moment stretching between you.

“She sounds incredible.”

“She was,” he said, his voice full but steady.

You both took a few quiet steps, the noise of the park filling the space between you. Then, in an effort to lift the mood, you bumped his hip gently.

“Okay, new tradition. We have to watch the fireworks together tonight.”

His lips curved. “Oh, is that the rule?”

“Absolutely. You have to make a wish, too.”

He considered it for a second. “Only if you do.”

You pretended to think it over, then nodded. “Deal.”

His grip on your hand tightened for just a second before he turned to you with a smile. “Come on,” he said, tugging you forward. “You’ve got a lot to experience.”

The next stop was Space Mountain. Your stomach twisted as you looked up at the sleek white dome, the distant screams of riders echoing from inside. You weren’t scared, exactly, but there was something about the unknown that made you grip Austin’s arm a little tighter.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous,” he teased.

“Not nervous,” you lied.

He chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple. “You’ll love it. Trust me.”

And, of course, he was right. The rush of the ride, the sharp twists and sudden drops, the way the darkness swallowed you whole before the stars blinked around you—it was exhilarating. When you stumbled off at the end, breathless and grinning, Austin was already looking at you with a satisfied smirk.

“Told you,” he said smugly.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Fine. You were right.”

The day blurred into a perfect whirlwind of colour and movement. Austin took the lead, guiding you from ride to ride. Thunder Mountain, Indiana Jones, the Matterhorn—each one had you laughing, screaming, gripping onto him for dear life. And each time, he held onto you just as tightly.

You screamed your way through and laughed until your stomach hurt when he dramatically recounted his childhood “trauma” from Splash Mountain’s drop.

The afternoon stretched on, a golden haze settling over the park. He bought you a Dole Whip, and you sat together in the shade, sharing spoonfuls as people bustled past.

The moment that settled deepest in your chest came when you wandered through Fantasyland. It was slower here, quieter, a step away from the high-energy thrills of the day. Austin slowed his pace, his fingers lacing more gently with yours as he glanced around.

“This was my mom’s favourite part,” he said softly. “She loved the little details. The window displays, the music. She always said this was where the magic really was.”

You squeezed his hand. “Do you miss it?”

He nodded. “Yeah. But… it’s nice being here with you. Making new memories.”

You rose onto your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Then let’s make some more.”

And so you did. You pulled him onto the carousel, despite his mock protests that it was “for kids.” You convinced him to ride It’s a Small World, and despite his complaints, you caught him humming the tune under his breath afterward.

By the time the sky darkened and the fireworks began, you found yourselves standing in front of the castle. Austin stood behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your head. When the first burst of light exploded in the sky, you felt his breath catch slightly, just for a second.

Neither of you spoke. You just watched, letting the moment wrap around you. It felt big—like something was shifting, settling.

You turned in his arms, tilting your face up to his. Austin was already looking at you.

“Best day ever?” he asked, voice teasing, fingers tracing gentle patterns along your back.

You smiled, looping your arms around his neck. “Best day ever.”

You looked at him, the fireworks reflecting in his eyes. It wasn’t just fun or nostalgic or sweet. It was important.

You weren’t just making memories. You were stepping into ones he’d carried with him his whole life. And now, you were part of them.

He grinned, but before he could speak, you tugged him down into a kiss. It was slow, unhurried, the kind that made everything else fade away. When you pulled back, his eyes stayed closed for a beat longer.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?”

“For sharing this with me.”

He kissed you again. “Always.”

You leaned in. “Making a wish?”

His lips quirked. “Maybe.”

You smiled, looking back up at the sky.

And made one too.

Neither of you said it out loud.

But you had a feeling they were the same.

And somehow, under that glowing sky with your hand in his, it didn’t feel like your first visit anymore.

It felt like coming home.

[knmaskitten]

pets !!

pairing— Kenma Kozume x afab!reader

summary— you decide to get a kitty without Kenma's approval.

warnings— none.

notes— I love writing for Kenma, enjoy my first drabble.

You and Kenma have been living together for three years now. After college, you two worked really hard to achieve your goal. It was exhausting but, at the end, rewarding. Kenma didn’t like to put too much effort into things, but you were another story; you were his lifeline, keeping him at bay. So naturally, he didn’t care if he had to get tired just to please you.

You two lived in a very compact but beautiful apartment, It had enough rooms so Kenma could have his gaming space and you could have your own working office. And what drew you to that place in the beginning was the acceptance of pets. You weren’t big on the idea of a family, but you definitely wanted pets.

Kenma used to always argue with you about this, mainly because he thought you couldn’t keep your attention fully on a pet. He said (and this made you very indignantly angry) that you were so absent-minded that you wouldn't notice if the cat left. So you were set on proving him wrong and also satisfying your need for a company animal. 

Lucky you, your friend Yukari was giving her cat’s babies away and you begged her to put apart one for you. You decided on a tiny male gray kitten. You were head over heels with him. It was such a sleepy and low-energy cat that it reminded you of how Kenma behaved.

When you went to pick your kitty up, you did not tell your boyfriend; you decided it was going to be a forceful decision in which he didn’t have the right to argue.

So, on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, you arrived to your apartment with Taro. You heard clicking and the light pressing of keys alongside the faint voice of Kenma; you instantly knew he was live streaming and thought it was a good time to tell him, with hundreds of witnesses. You left your shoes on your entrance, put your slippers on your feet, and started walking with the little Taro asleep on your arms. His office door was ajar and you knew this meant you could enter if you needed to, so you knocked and heard a tired “Come in.”

“Kozumeeee.” You chanted as you entered the room. Looking around the room, you saw he was playing a game named Omori on stream. The lights in the room were dim and purple, there was no sunlight coming in, just as he liked it.

“Sorry about the interruption; here is my girlfriend.” He said while rolling his eyes, a little bit amused.

“I have a surprise for you, a cute little surprise.” You said, hiding Taro behind your back.

“You’re scaring me.” He then turned to face you, ignoring the fact that everybody in chat saw the cat before him.

“Don’t be mad.” You plead before carefully placing Taro in front of him. 

Being with Kenma meant he had few big reactions; he was never a guy who smiled often or got angry often. His reactions were scarce, and you cherished every single one, whether it was anger or happiness. So when you saw him open his cat-like eyes and look directly at Taro, you went silent. He just stood there, making eye contact with the cat. Five seconds passed, and he chuckled loudly. 

“I knew you were scheming something.” He said, giving you a lopsided smile.

“His name is Taro.” You replied, giggling mischievously. You let Kenma hold him.

“Hey chat, this is Taro. My girlfriend brought him home without telling me.” He bluntly stated, giving you a side-eye. “He’s cute.”

You walked closer to read the comments; they were saying you were in the right and that the kitty was cute. You thanked everybody for the support and then took Taro in your hands and showed it to the camera. You beamed. Kenma found this whole ordeal incredibly adorable and thought he loved you so much that he didn’t care if you brought a cat home as long as it made you happy.

He got closer to your ear just so you could hear him.

“I love you; you look so pretty when you are happy.”

This made your heart flutter, you had to remind yourself you were live so you didn’t do anything embarrassing or out of place. You thought that this went so well that you might as well get a second cat just to get more reactions out of him.

Gosh, you loved Kenma Kozume.

thank you for reading <3

masterlist and more.

[lovelytsunoda]

life in the fast lane // miles teller

summary: the life and times of trailblazing indycar driver y/n y/l/n, and her celebrity husband, miles teller. in the weeks leading up to the indy 500, the pair have a very special announcement that will alter lives forever.

pairing: miles teller x andretti driver! reader

author's note: its hard to write an smau about a man with no public instagram account lemme tell you that real quick-

y/ny/l/nteller just posted!

indianapolis, indiana.

liked by josefnewgarden, monicabarbaro, valkilmerofficial and 4,578 others

y/n/y/l/nteller indiana never felt like home to me until i had you on the open road.

indy tests start monday, and we are officially one month out from the five-hundred. let's do this, indiana!

see all comments

valkilmer you got this kiddo! we're all rooting for you!

-> ynylnteller 🥺🫶🏻 love ya Val!

kyle_kirkwood i have known your husband for four years now and he still looks awkward in every single photo that gets taken of him at the track. how does he do it?

user babe come home, the children miss you?

-> y/n/yl/nteller miles and i don't have any kids (yet)

ashleynewgarden shocked we got through that dinner without josef and miles singing beyoncé at the karaoke bar

-> josefnewgarden that happened ONCE. I wish miles had social media so he could help me defend these accusations

-> y/n/y/l/nteller take it up with the hubby, not me

user does she look like she’s out on a bit of weight?

-> user it’s probably muscle lmao she’s an athlete bud

patriciooward most photogenic couple in the paddock!

monicbarbaro booking my flights rn

-> ynylnteller girls weekend here we come!

y/ny/l/nteller just updated her story!

ynylnteller just posted!

liked by reesewitherspoon, coltonherta, glenpowell and 5,145 others

ynylnteller god I’m going to miss all of this

*this caption was deleted*

ynylnteller days like these 🫶🏻

see all comment

user did anyone see the original caption?!? where is my girl going!

stingrayrobb thanks for making my nieces day so special! she looks up to you so much and she spent all day talking about how awesome you were. thank you and god bless!

-> ynylnteller your niece was an angel, it was my pleasure!

coltonherta your straight line speed this morning was absolutely incredible. are we thinking an andretti 1-2 is in the cards this weekend?

-> ynylnteller absolutley! let’s get it!

glenpowell everyone is talking about straight line speed and I’m just amazed that you can balance on the tires like that-

-> ynylnteller it took five years of practice to be this good glenn

ynylnteller just posted!

liked by monicabarbaro, katherineracing, scottdixon and 4,653 others

ynylnteller as much as it pains me to say it, the todays Indy 500 will be the end of my 2024 season. while I’m upset that this season is coming to an end prematurely, I am also beyond excited. if the pictures above didn’t give it completely away (and my husband was able to keep his mouth shut all weekend), I am beyond overjoyed to announce that miles and I are having a baby! we tried to keep it under wraps for as long as we could, but as of the next race, baby teller would be too big for me to race without hurting them or myself,

while I won’t be on the track itself for the rest of the season, I couldn’t give this place up if I tried. Instead, my car will be driven by the amazing callum_ilott and I will be joining my bestie jameshinchcliffe in the commentary box.

when I was little, I only had one dream: to be a race car driver. but as I got older that dream began to change, and I realized all of that meant nothing if I didn’t have anybody to share it with. I wanted a family.

We are so excited for this new chapter in our lives.

Lots of love,

Miles and YN Teller xx

see all comments

scottdixon I’m so happy for you, darling! that baby is going to be so loved and so cherished. please pass my congratulations on to miles as well!

-> ynylnteller none of this would have been possible without you, so you’re the real hero here!

user mother is going to be a real mother now!

valkilmer congratulations yn! if you and miles ever need anything at all, you know where to find me (or mercedes and jack)

-> ynylnteller thank you val!! ❤️

glenpowell I am going to be the best godfather this kid has ever had

-> ynylnteller first of all who said you were the godfather?

-> coltonherta yeah it’s gonna be me actually

-> ynylnteller actually it’s going to be neither of you

-> coltonherta but why? I’m already a great uncle?

-> glenpowell yeah so am I!

-> ynylnteller everybody be quiet or we’re making Val the godfather -Miles

-> coltonherta you’d pick the old man over us?!?

-> ynylnteller he *is* less annoying

ashleynewgarden so pleased for you both! this will be your next great adventure! kota is looking forward to having another little buddy to hang out with 🫶🏻

callum_ilott I promise to take good care of the car! rest up and relax over the next nine months, god knows you might never sleep again

user miles is becoming a dilf!!! miles teller is becoming a dilf!!!

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @cartierre @lorarri @diorcharles @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @thatsdemko @userlando

[silver-cyn]

A fic for the TGCF discord Valentine prompt - as you wish.

Always In My Heart

Read it here on A03.

Xie Lian loved him. 

The thought still struck Hua Cheng in a way he could never quite put into words. Like a blade aimed at his heart only for a kiss to land on his lips instead.

His expression darkened when he remembered how Xie Lian had come to harm on his birthday last year and suffered literal heart pain over him.

(don’t think about the state preceptor's divination, don’t think about Xie Lian going against all of heaven to save him as a child)

Instead, Hua Cheng remembered: 

“I’m very good at bearing pain. If you’re by my side, I can stand it. If you’re gone…it will be unbearable…”

Before those words, Hua Cheng had been cursing his uselessness all over again to protect his beloved. All his power, all his strength and still he’d been helpless. Just like during the battle with the emperor, just like in the fucking temple…

Breathe San Lang. 

Xie Lian’s comforting words grounded him as they always did even in his absence. Hua Cheng took a deep breath, unclenched his fist, and blinked dispassionately at the crescent moons left on his skin. He shook his hand, and they disappeared as if he’d painted over them anew.

The point was, Xie Lian’s words had solidified like a punch to the gut how much he loved Hua Cheng. It was incredible, unbelievable and more than anything Hua Cheng had ever imagined. Every night he thanked his god for his blessings. One might think he meant their heated moments of intimacy where he worshipped Xie Lian’s body all night long. And while that was true, it also included him actually visiting his god's temple to express his gratitude.

Xie Lian knew him to be sincere, but when he'd heard Hua Cheng's actual prayers and his reasons, his face had lit up with overwhelming affection as he tackled him to the ground in a hug. 

Yet really, how could Hua Cheng not do so knowing he was the most blessed creature on this wretched planet to have the love of his beloved after so many centuries?

Every day was a joy, a blessing, a new discovery, another adventure, another moment in their daily life that he cherished and held close to his dead, unbeating heart.

So yes, Hua Cheng was in the honeymoon phase of his relationship with Xie Lian and probably always would be.

With all that said, was it any wonder that he’d initially missed something was off with his beloved?

Hua Cheng blinked, allowing his silver butterflies to reveal Xie Lian’s spiritual power written into the very threads of his clothing. The simple yet heartfelt prayers glowed briefly white beneath his eyes. 

Keep him safe.

Bring him back to me.

Let no harm befall him.

Sweet. Considerate. Nothing to worry about on its own. In fact, Hua Cheng had done the very same for Xie Lian’s robes. (He remembered Xie Lian laughing at Hua Cheng's atrocious handwriting even as he'd peppered kisses over every inch of his face)

But there was more.

“Good to see you, Your Highness. Hua Chengzhu really pulled through for me in a pinch. He’s a good friend,” Pei Ming slapped Hua Cheng’s shoulder, one hundred percent ignoring Hua Cheng’s glare.

“We’re not friends. I did you a favor. You owe me now. That’s all,” Hua Cheng shrugged off his arm and very intentionally moved to Xie Lian’s side. 

“Isn’t that how all good friendships start?” Pei Ming said with a grin.

Xie Lian smiled with bemusement and a clear question at Hua Cheng.

“Just some boring business with Heavenly officials not competent enough to do their jobs without my help,” Hua Cheng said with a pointed look at Pei Ming. 

“Well, it’s not like I can pretend to be ghost bait myself, can I? I —”

“What did you say?” 

The quick shift in tone was so abrupt, it stopped Pei Ming’s words in their tracks. Hua Cheng had been distracted by Xie Lian’s loveliness and had started thinking of ways to whisk him away early from heavenly business. Yet even he was pulled from his musings at the tone of his voice. 

“Your Highness, it was truly nothing. Just a pesky demon with a particular taste for —”

“Ghosts? And you decided that putting my husband in danger was your best option?”

Pei Ming closed his mouth with an audible click. Xie Lian was completely serious, and the steel in his voice made Pei Ming's fingers spasm. He just barely checked the urge to reach for his sword. 

“Your Highness, your Ghost King’s power is near unsurpassed. There was never any danger,” Pei Ming tried to appease to no avail. 

“Oh? If that’s the case, please use yourself to your full capabilities next time before burdening San Lang with your problems. Is that clear?”

Pei Ming nodded automatically. He looked to Hua Cheng but the Ghost King paid him no mind. His attention was solely focused on Xie Lian.

“It won’t happen again, Your Highness,” Pei Ming said with a quick bow and an even quicker exit.

Once Pei Ming was well out of sight, Hua Cheng pulled Xie Lian closer and whispered in his ear about how beautiful he’d looked telling Pei Ming off and how much Hua Cheng wanted to carry him home right now and…

“San Lang!” Xie Lian blushed and buried his face in his hands.

 

But he hadn’t said no. In fact, he’d swept Hua Cheng off his feet and carried him home after rolling the dice. 

Hua Cheng set the robes aside and wandered thoughtfully around the room. His hands brushed the rumpled red sheets of their bed, picked up the tossed aside scroll and calligraphy brush from the floor.

Xie Lian’s calligraphy stared up at him, beautiful as ever, yet with a distinctly vivid it that sent an unconscious shiver down his spine. The aggressive strokes reminded him of another incident.

“San Lang! Watch out!” Xie Lian dropped in front of Hua Cheng and slammed his fist directly into the demon. The combined strength and spiritual power behind it obliterated the enemy completely leaving no trace of it behind except for its last dying scream.

Hua Cheng stared with one raised eyebrow at Xie Lian who turned to him with worry on his face.

“San Lang, are you okay?" He questioned, taking Hua Cheng’s hand to check it thoroughly. Seeing no injuries there, he glided his hands over his arms, his torso while his eyes inspected lower. 

“Gege, I’m fine,” Hua Cheng tried to reassure him but Xie Lian spun him around to check his backside.

After confirming he actually was all right, Xie Lian finally relaxed.

“Good, I’m glad. Sorry to drop in like that. It was sneaking up on you.”

A blatant lie that Hua Cheng didn’t call him out on, too charmed and awed by Xie Lian effectively ending the demon’s life in one punch.

“Actually gege, I think I have some pain here,” Hua Cheng said. Xie Lian’s eyes briefly flashed with fear, but relief and fond exasperation replaced it when he saw Hua Cheng pointing at his lips.

“Ah, sorry San Lang.  I think I have something that can help,” Xie Lian said. No sooner had the words left his mouth then he slotted their mouths together for a kiss. 

 

It was easy to get lost in their kiss. It was easy to block all the grumbling from his Highness' mouthy servants. Yet, in the quiet of their bedroom now, he recalled that Xie Lian's arms, locked around him with immovable strength and equal tenderness, had trembled just the slightest. 

Something was troubling Xie Lian. 

 

***

Something was troubling Xie Lian.

They had just finished sparring in the spacious armory when suddenly Xie Lian let out a sound of distress. 

“Your Highness, what’s wrong?” Feng Xin asked. He turned to Xie Lian after setting his borrowed weapon aside.

“My necklace. I can’t find it,” Xie Lian patted his neck frantically, face bloodless and eyes wide as his fingers came up empty no matter how often he checked his robes and bandages. 

“The one with the ring on the end? Did you take it off before sparring with us?” Mu Qing asked. His sharp eyes were already searching the room for it.

“No, no. I never take it off,” Xie Lian said. He tossed his weapon carelessly aside to frantically search the nearby area.

“Feng Xin, Mu Qing. Please help me find it. It’s a precious gift from San Lang,” Xie Lian said. 

That guy , Mu Qing thought in annoyance, but seeing Xie Lian so unusually upset gave him pause and the words went no further than his mind.  

Instead, Mu Qing exchanged a look with Feng Xin and they nodded at each other. Feng Xin went to check the display of weapons and Mu Qing the other areas of the room Xie Lian had yet to search.

Time passed and still there was no sign of it.

“Your Highness, let’s rest for a moment before we continue our search,” Feng Xin said, patting Xie Lian’s shoulder.

“No, no, I can’t. I have to find it,” Xie Lian said, not even bothering to look up. 

“We’ve spent nearly an incense time looking for it. I have other business to attend to in a few hours that still need preparation. Look, if your little trinket is in here, it’s not going anywhere. The worst case scenario if you can't find it will be asking Hua Cheng to buy you a new one,” Mu Qing said, crossing his arms. 

“I know it's difficult for you to remember sometimes, but let me remind you there are some things money can’t replace,” Xie Lian said coldly.

As soon as the words were said, he gasped and covered his mouth. Mu Qing visibly flinched and Feng Xin’s shocked gaze flitted between the two.

“Mu Qing, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” Xie Lian said, reaching a hand out to his friend. Mu Qing sidestepped him, rolled his shoulders and shrugged it off. 

“Yes you did, but forget it. I’ve said shittier stuff about you before,” Mu Qing said.

“That doesn’t make it okay," Xie Lian said softly. He looked away for a moment, then, turning back to them, he squared his shoulders and gave a small bow.

"Your Highness!" They exclaimed. Feng Xin pulled him up at once, and it was only because he was closer that Mu Qing stopped from doing the same. 

"Please forgive my short temper just now. I truly appreciate the help you provided. My friends, don't trouble yourself anymore over this. If you can, please bear with me a little more, and see yourselves out. I really must find that necklace," Xie Lian said. He tucked his hands into his sleeves, digging his nails into his skin to keep outright panic from overtaking him.

"Xie Lian, what's this really about?" Mu Qing demanded, taking a step closer to him. 

Xie Lian dug his nails deeper into his skin. “I just...I just can’t lose him again.” 

Now that caught Mu Qing’s attention. “What do you mean? Who?”

“San Lang of course. That ring…it’s…”

And both Feng Xin's and Mu Qing’s eyes widened at Xie Lian’s next words.

“How could you be so stupid to lose track of it?” Mu Qing said in disbelief.

"I know. Believe me, I know!"

"Fucking hell! Xie Lian! You need to secure that lock with extra spiritual power. Unbelievable!"

"I said I know, all right! Gods, after everything San Lang and I have been through, how could I --"

“Wait, wait, wait!" Feng Xin interjected.

Both men looked at him.

"Can’t we just ask Crimson Rain to find it? The ring is most likely in this room still. There's no reason he can't find it, right?" Feng Xin pointed out.

“Oh," Xie Lian said, face flushing slightly. He cleared his throat, and his two friends quickly looked away when he scrubbed his eyes and pressed two fingers to his temple.

"San Lang?"

"Why are you saying his name aloud?" Mu Qing grumbled.

"Will you shut up!?!" Feng Xin said, shoving Mu Qing's shoulder. 

***

The ring was found, and Xie Lian’s tension immediately eased once he slipped it around his neck again. He kissed the ring, kissed Hua Cheng, hugged him tightly and then repeated the process all over again much to his friends' dismay. 

Normally Hua Cheng would've basked in delight, but all he felt was concern when he saw Xie Lian's red eyes, pale face and held his trembling body close to his own. 

"Gege, are you --" 

“I'm fine, San Lang! Really!" Xie Lian smiled a far too wide smile at Hua Cheng, eyes closed in near crescent moons. 

"Mu Qing, come with me, please? There’s something I want to get from the kitchen for you before you leave,” Xie Lian said finally releasing Hua Cheng. He stepped over to Mu Qing’s side, not in the least deterred by the look of disgust on Mu Qing’s face.

“What the hell?!? I thought you weren’t mad at me anymore.”

Xie Lian laughed and waved his hands in front of his face.

“I’m not, I’m not. It’s a treat Hua Cheng’s staff made for us today. I think you’ll find it delightful. Take some back for Feng Xin too. Come on.”

Hua Cheng’s eyes followed after the two men. 

“This is because of my ashes?” Hua Cheng asked once the two other men were out of earshot.

Feng Xin nodded awkwardly, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck as he filled Hua Cheng in on the details. 

“What's wrong with him?” Feng Xin asked bluntly. 

“There’s nothing wrong with his Highness,” Hua Cheng said, his tone scathing. Feng Xin's face flushed red, but he didn't back down.

“Don’t be stupid. You know what I mean, and you know you’re not the only one who cares about His Highness. We’re worried,” Feng Xin said, slashing his hand in front of him in frustration.

Hua Cheng turned just enough for Feng Xin to see his profile which, with the eyepatch covering his eye, did an effective job of making his expression even more unreadable. 

“I have some speculations,” Hua Cheng said finally. “And no, I won’t share them. It’s none of your business.” 

Feng Xin was about to open his mouth when Hua Cheng continued.

“Unless he calls for you sooner, come back in three days to see him yourself,” Hua Cheng said and then turned to follow after Xie Lian.  Feng Xin's mouth dropped open, but thankfully Hua Cheng didn't look back. This gave Feng Xin privacy to process that Heaven’s most terrifying threat had, of his own accord, invited them back to his home. 

***

In all the centuries that had passed, Xie Lian had never forgotten the smiling white mask belonging to that faithful black clad youth. The one who’d followed him into the depths of despair and death, and dirtied his hands to fulfil Xie Lian's wish for vengeance. 

The one who’d known him even when he hadn't known himself and at Xie Lian’s lowest moment offered kindness in the form of a small, white flower. 

His heart ached to remember how he’d treated such comfort, stomping that fragile flower into the ground and everything it reminded him of at the time. 

And yet that wasn't the worst of it. 

Xie Lian’s heart pounded in his chest at the sight of that hateful calamity gently caressing the side of Wu Ming’s mask. Nausea rumbled in his stomach and clawed at his throat to see those same fingers tilt Wu Ming's neck to the side, exposing the vulnerable flesh to the blade’s edge in a tender promise of violence.

“Please,” Xie Lian begged. “Don’t hurt him.”

He strained with his all his might to break the chains binding his arms and legs, but it was futile. 

“You said it yourself, Your Highness. He’s already dead.”  That half crying, half-smiling mask turned to address Wu Ming. “Isn’t that right?”

Wu Ming nodded.

Xie Lian couldn't deny his words, he could only repeat his plea.

“Don’t hurt him.”

“It’s all right, your Highness." Dear Wu Ming this time. "To die for you is –”

The sound of the blade slicing through flesh sent visceral pain through Xie Lian's body. It was nothing though compared to the deafening wail of his breaking heart.

“You killed him!”

Finally, that madman was within reach. Xie Lian picked him up by the throat, knocking the other’s mask off in the struggle. When finally the other's face was revealed, it wasn't the face of the past emperor…

 

…but his own. 

“No, Your Highness. We killed him!”

Xie Lian woke up with a gasp.

***

Xie Lian was known by many names.

The fallen prince of Xianle.

The laughingstock of the heavens.

The god of misfortune.

Yet tonight, he was only what he ever truly was – a man, painfully human, weeping in the arms of his beloved over a wrath ghost without a name who made the ultimate sacrifice for him. 

It was a day Xie Lian had vowed never to forget, and never had until that youth returned to him a man, and gave him the most precious gift Xie Lian had ever received.

Heart filled with all his love for Hua Cheng, happiness clinging to every part of him at just being in his presence, let alone being allowed to share a life with him...

…was it any wonder he’d forgotten the day that Wu Ming had died until the day had already passed? Yet some part of him must have remembered and tried to…wanted to…

When Xie Lian's tears eventually dried up, and he'd shared all the words that could be said, Xie Lian sniffled and slumped fully against Hua Cheng.

Hua Cheng tucked Xie Lian as close to him as possible and pulled the blankets over them. Xie Lian eventually fell back asleep wrapped in Hua Cheng's unnatural warmth, heart soothed by every whispered declaration of love that fell from his lips.

***

“San Lang, I’ve caused so much trouble these past few days. I’m sorry,” Xie Lian said. The entire day had been spent with Hua Cheng by his side, pampering and spoiling him much to Xie Lian’s pleasure and Hua Cheng’s delight.

Now evening had come, and they were strolling through the outside corridors of Paradise Manor, enjoying the warm lantern lights and rippling sounds of the waters below the pagoda. In the distance, the raucous noise of Ghost City’s residents made for a warm ambiance that did more to make Xie Lian feel at home than the Heavenly officials ever had. 

“Never gege. You were hurting. I’m only sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner,” Hua Cheng responded, kissing the top of Xie Lian’s head. “As for the others: General Pei won’t hold it against you. And didn’t you already make amends with the Sweeping General?”

At Xie Lian’s thoughtful nod, Hua Cheng hugged him close. Once they pulled apart, they continued walking, Xie Lian twining their fingers together.

“San Lang? I have a request,” Xie Lian said breaking the silence once more. 

“Anything," Hua Cheng said without hesitation, pressing a kiss to their joined hands. 

“Hear me out first," Xie Lian said smiling softly. "I want you to carve another statue of us, but this time...I want it to be from our days together as the White Clothed Calamity and Wu Ming.”

Hua Cheng stopped them at his words and turned to face Xie Lian. Hua Cheng tucked a strand of hair behind Xie Lian's ear, his dark eye watching him carefully.

“Gege, I would do anything for you, but I hate to see you hurt. Why do you want to be reminded of the most painful time of your life?" 

Hua Cheng's concern curled around Xie Lian's aching heart like the softest petals embracing a butterfly. 

“There is pain in remembering, yes, and maybe a small part of me wants that," Xie Lian admitted. "I never want to forget the weight of my past actions, and the price paid for them." 

Sensing Hua Cheng's incoming protest, Xie Lian gently placed a finger over his lips 

"But more than that, so so much more than that, are my feelings of gratitude and awe that my most devoted believer never lost faith in me. You never gave up on me, and even saved me,” Xie Lian said and his smile was so sweet and tender it was a wonder Hua Cheng’s dead heart didn’t come back to life.

“You saved yourself, Your Highness, just like I knew you would. You only needed the opportunity to try again,” Hua Cheng embraced him and Xie Lian clung to him.

“And you gave it to me. I don’t ever want to forget that. Please San Lang,” Xie Lian said staring up at Hua Cheng. "Will you help me honor my most devoted believer?"

And really, what else could Hua Cheng say to that except: 

“As you wish.” 

[onlydivinething]

the poppy war is probably the book series that I don't know whether to cherish or regret because I read it. it's become incredibly important to me and I'm very much attached to it and the characters and yet the amount of pain it brought me every time I think of the characters is something that I still haven't recovered from even after years after reading it

(yes I'm currently rereading the dragon republic and i'm miserable because there's nothing i could do to prevent or change the fact about what will happen in the next three hundred pages and then the book after that)

[rorylovesmatt]

Unrequited love - Madison beer

summary: The second Y/n laid her eyes on Madison, she knew she was in love, but she also knew she couldn’t have her. At least not yet.

warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, bad ending!!! (i think that’s it?)

word count: 1,000

a/n: yes i did come out of my month long hiatus just to publish a fic for my girl WHAT ABOUT IT (idek how long it’s been this is a wild guess)

Y/n stood on the balcony of her apartment, overlooking the shimmering city lights of Los Angeles below. The night was quiet, with only the distant hum of traffic and the occasional gust of wind rustling through the trees. She leaned against the railing, her thoughts heavy and tangled.

She had everything she could’ve ever wanted. Friends, a successful career as a musician, and a life in a city where dreams were made. But there was one thing she couldn’t have, the love of her life.

It had started innocently enough. She met Madison a year ago at the Sturniolos birthday party. She was everything Y/n could’ve ever asked for in a partner (does that made sense?..) Talented, kind, and stunningly beautiful. Despite her celebrity status, Madison was extremely down to earth, warm, and genuine. She didn’t know who she was at first, which only seemed to endear her to Madison more. As the night went on the two of them talked about everything. Their favorite bands, their most embarrassing moments, their dreams and fears. By the end of the night, Y/n was captivated. She found herself thinking about her constantly, longing for the next time she could hear her voice, her laugh.

But there was a problem. Madison was already in a relationship. She knew it from the beginning, yet she couldn’t help herself. The more time she spent with her, the deeper she fell. Y/n cherished every moment, every text message, every late night phone call. She lived for the times when Madison’s hand would accidentally brush against her own or when she’d look at her in a way that made her heart skip a beat. She knew that they didn’t mean the same thing to Madison as they did to her.

Madison saw her as a friend, someone she could trust, someone who understood her in a way few others did, but Y/n saw Madison as so much more.

One evening, after an emotional recording session (is that the proper term?) , Y/n invited Madison over to her place. She had written a new song, one that she had poured her heart into and she wanted Y/n to be the first to hear it. As she sat on her couch, listening to her sing, Y/n watched her closely, hoping to see something in her eyes that would tell her that she felt the same way. But when the song ended, all she did was smile and tell her how beautiful it was, how talented she was.

“Madison..” she began, her voice trembling slightly, “have you ever wondered what it would be like if things were… different? like If we had met at a different time under different circumstances?”

She looked at her confused. “What do you mean?”

Y/n hesitated. She had rehearsed this conversation a hundred times in her head but now that the moment was here, she wasn’t sure if she could go through with it. “I mean… if you weren’t with someone else. If we could be more than just friends.”

There was a long silence as Madison processed her best friend’s words. Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, every second feeling like an eternity. Finally, she spoke.

“Y/n, you’re an incredible person. I love and care about you so much, but I’m with someone else. I can’t just throw that away.”

She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. Y/n had known this would be her answer, but hearing it out loud still broke her heart. “I understand,” she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Madison reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “I don’t want to lose you Y/n. You mean so much to me.”

She forced a smile, even though her heart was shattering. “You won’t lose me. I’ll always be here for you. I promise”

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

New Year's Greetings from Ze

Dear People!

Behind me stands Mother Ukraine. Ukraine that stands firmly on its feet, does not bow its head, looks ahead, believes in its future and victory over all the evil that Russia has brought us. Ukraine that is capable of achieving a just peace – having a shield and a sword. Defending its people, its colors, its Independence. Today I address all those who value Ukraine, cherish their state, and lovingly call it “Mine.” I thank you for 2024. Our people who endure all difficulties with dignity. People for whom being citizens of Ukraine is a source of pride. And for me, it is a pride to be the President of such people – Ukrainians who prove that no cruise missile can defeat a nation that has wings.

Throughout this leap year, we have proven it every day. And we saw it yesterday. When we were uplifted with happiness because 189 Ukrainians returned from captivity to their native land. Because they will celebrate the New Year at home. Because we are bringing our people back. 1,358 people this year. 3,956 Ukrainians during this time. And I’m giving not estimates but precise numbers, because each one represents a person, our person, a very important person. And with each return – we bring life back to Ukraine.

And every time this happens, we all cry. It doesn’t matter if it’s a moved mother, or it’s a child who finally has their father back, or the President of Ukraine – we all cry because we are all human, and we have kept the light within us.

And it helped us endure through over 1,000 days. To be brave when it was needed most. To be strong when it was so vital. As did our teachers, our medics, our power engineers, our transport workers, as did all our air defense personnel, mobile fire groups. The guys who brought down 1,310 cruise and ballistic missiles this year, and 7800 Iranian “Shahed” drones. Bravo! We are proud! Thank you! We lived through this year together. We overcame everything 2024 brought together. Victories and setbacks. Joys and challenges. Tears of happiness when we succeeded. And tears of pain when our hearts were wounded.

July. Morning. Okhmatdyt. That’s how weaklings and cowards strike. And we will never forget those children’s eyes. We will never forgive them for this! When evil brings death, our response is a human chain. This is what the strength of Ukrainians looks like. And that unity of ours could be seen from space. God saw it. He saw what kind of people we have. What kind of children we have. And I will never forget those incredibly mature and strong eyes of the boy from Okhmatdyt. How much life is in him, energy and dignity! And how much stronger this child alone is than Putin! How much stronger all our children are than their entire evil. Ukrainian boys and girls who are winning this war, gaining knowledge online and even in underground schools, winning global science competitions, raising funds for our army, and inventing technological solutions that help with our defense. You are a phenomenal generation! This is who we are fighting for. This is who our heroes, our warriors, protect above all. Those who stand firm and carry Independence on their shoulders. Where freedom and valor fight every day – even now, on this New Year's night. On all our fronts. On all of them. In the east, where it’s extremely, extremely difficult and challenging right now. But we believe, we know: you will stand strong. Our guys will stand strong. Your spirit and courage will stand strong. All the things that helped you not to surrender our Sumy and Kharkiv, our Kherson and our Zaporizhzhia this year. And the Russians wanted it so badly. But instead – you paid the occupiers back, bringing the war back home to Russia. And the one who sowed evil on our land received it on their own. In the Kursk region and in other places where our response, our justice, came this year.

Justice. Just one word, but behind it stand hundreds of thousands of our people. Our defense industry and our science. Whose minds and work have made us stronger, because 30% of everything our guys had on the battlefield this year – all this was made in Ukraine.

And at one of these facilities, I asked a young engineer: "How did you manage to achieve so much? How were these people able to do all of this?" And the young man joked: "They're not just people, they're missiles."

And you know, at that moment, I felt ashamed as a citizen that since the 90s, the state hadn’t noticed such people of ours. And I am proud, when meeting them throughout the year I hear: they are happy to be needed by Ukraine. And that Ukraine is once again building its own, its own missiles. And for the first time, it produces over a million drones in a year. Forcing the enemy to learn Ukrainian. Palianytsia, Peklo, Ruta. Making them tremble at the words Neptune and Sapsan. All these are our missiles. Ukrainian. Hor, Vampire, Kolibri, Kamik, Liutyi, Heavy Shot, Firepoint. All these are our drones. Ukrainian. And all these are our arguments, the arguments for a just peace.

It is achieved only by the strong. And we have proven time and again that we are strong. Our athletes. Oleksandr Khyzhniak, our Tank. Olga Kharlan, Yaroslava Mahuchikh, all our Olympians and Paralympians, for whom we cheered, worried, and screamed with joy and pride when the blue and yellow flag was raised. We took the hits and fought back alongside Oleksandr Usyk. All of this is about something bigger than just sports. It’s about our character. It’s about who we are and what we are capable of. It’s about meanings and symbols. It’s about Sashko’s fights, like Ukraine’s daily battles, showing us: it doesn't matter how much bigger the enemy is compared to you, what matters is how much bigger your will is. Then it takes the breath away of the whole world! And all the leaders told me frankly: "We've never seen anything like this – when a full hall of Notre-Dame de Paris is applauding." And those were applause for you. For all our people. This is what respect for Ukraine sounds like. This is what Independence is.

It’s when we don’t give up what’s ours. And when we don’t forget our people. Those who are in captivity. And we will fight for every person who, unfortunately, is still there. And we will fight for all those whom Russia has forced into occupation; but couldn’t occupy their Ukrainian hearts. And no matter how many passports evil hands out at gunpoint, our people say: "You are not our kin, you are temporary." And all those imposed weeds will not take root on our land, will not defeat the natives. I always recall the story about one of our Ukrainian elderly men, whom the occupiers asked: "What time is it?" And he answered: "Time to get off our land." This is what the inner will is, which simply cannot be occupied. And I turn to all those who carry this will in their hearts on the temporarily occupied territories. Dear Ukrainians! I know you are celebrating the New Year according to our time, and now you hear these words. In our Crimea, in Donbas, in Melitopol, in Mariupol – everywhere where Ukraine is awaited. And where, one day, Ukraine will return to be together. And the only thing that will divide Ukrainians is a generously laid table.

I know that all our people will be at this table. Those who are now abroad but have kept Ukraine in their hearts. So today, in the first minute of the New Year, in Warsaw, New York, or Buenos Aires, "Shche ne vmerla…" will sound. In Berlin, Prague or Tokyo, people will say today: “Glory to Ukraine!” And the world will respond: “Glory to the Heroes!” Because Ukraine is not alone. Because we have our friends with us. Since the first minutes of this war, America has stood with Ukraine. I believe that America will also stand with Ukraine in the first minutes of peace.

I remember my conversation with Joe Biden after the Russian invasion. I remember my conversation with Donald Trump after he was elected. All the conversations with Congressmen, Senators, ordinary Americans, with all those who support us in the US, in Europe, and around the world – in those many and varied conversations, there was always unity on the main point: Putin cannot win. Ukraine will prevail.

I thank all Americans for proving these words with deeds. I have no doubt that the new American President is willing and capable of achieving peace and ending Putin’s aggression. He understands that the first is impossible without the second. Because this is not a street fight where you have to calm down both sides. This is the full-scale aggression of a mad state against a civilized one. And I believe that we, together with the United States, are capable of exerting that force. Of compelling Russia into a just peace. That means not forgetting, and not erasing everything Russia has done. Bucha, Olenivka, Avdiivka, all our destroyed towns and villages. This is why a truly just peace cannot be based on the principle of “let’s start with a clean slate.” Because the score is not 0:0. The score is thousands, thousands of Ukrainians whose lives Russia has stolen.

And today, the heart of Ukraine is covered with scars. These are the names of our fallen heroes. May God protect every family in the world from experiencing such losses. I would not wish any leader in the world to experience these feelings – the moment you hand over awards posthumously. You see the eyes of a mother, a wife, or a child of a warrior who gave their life for Ukraine, and you hear them say: "Please, let it all not be in vain." Thousands of our guys and girls have not faded into oblivion. They are with us, they are by our side, always, they are watching over us from the heavens. And we have no right to let them down, and we cannot betray their feat and memory.

And every day in the coming year, I, and all of us, must fight for a Ukraine that is strong enough. Because only such a Ukraine is respected and heard. Both on the battlefield and at the negotiating table.

I thank everyone who has stood by us this year. Our partners, allies, friends, leaders. Leaders indeed, not because it is customary to call them that, but because they prove their leadership by their actions. Those who were not afraid to come to Ukraine, knowing how valuable it is to see us standing shoulder to shoulder. With whom, despite the distance and time difference, we worked together, found solutions and achieved results. Patriots, IRIS-Ts, NASAMS and ATACMS systems, F-16s, SCALPs, Storm Shadows. The Czech initiative and a million shells. The Danish model and hundreds of millions in our domestic production. 27 security agreements and 40 billion to support our army. The European Union and 50 billion to support our economy. The G7 and the decision on 50 billion dollars of frozen Russian assets. This is our great international work. This is our great international victory. I thank our partners, thank you for this; I thank our team. The Army, the Government, the Office, the Parliament, the regions, the communities, the volunteers. All those who strengthen our country from within and care about people.

I thank everyone thanks to whom Ukraine is standing and will stand. It will overcome its path to peace, to a strong Ukraine. And to a European Ukraine. And these are not just words, but a reality that began this June with the opening of negotiations on Ukraine's accession to the EU. And this is a historic result. And this path is irreversible. And Ukraine will be in the European Union. And one day Ukraine will be in NATO and will strengthen the Alliance. It will strengthen the stability of the world. The unity of Europe, which determines the destiny of every nation on the continent. And this unity must be respected by all. By both Budapest and Bratislava. I know the Hungarian and Slovak peoples are actually with us, with Ukraine, with Ukrainians, on the side of truth. The authorities of these countries should also acknowledge the truth. There is no need to be afraid of Ukraine being in Europe. We must do everything to prevent Russia from being in Europe. Its tanks, its missiles, and the evil it will surely spread further if Ukraine does not withstand. If Russia shakes your hand today, it does not mean that tomorrow, it will not start killing you with the same hand. Because Russians are afraid of the free people. Of what they are not familiar with. They are afraid of freedom. They were born under Putin, went to school under Putin, joined the army under Putin and are dying for his sick ideas.

And that is why it is so crucial today to support all peoples who defend freedom. Those who refuse to give it up in Chișinău. Those who are fighting for their future in Tbilisi. And I am sure that the day will come when we will all say: "Long Live Belarus!"

Dear Ukrainians!

May 2025 be our year. The year of Ukraine. We know that peace will not be given to us as a gift. But we will do everything to stop Russia and end the war. This is what each of us wishes for.

Behind all of us stands Mother Ukraine. And she deserves to live in peace. I wish this to all of us. And as the President of Ukraine, as well as a citizen, I will do everything to achieve it in the coming year. Knowing that I will not be alone. I know that you stand shoulder to shoulder with me – millions of Ukrainians. Strong. Free. Beautiful. Independent.

Happy New Year, dear people!

Happy New Year, Ukraine!

Glory to Ukraine!

[knightinsourarmor]

@musecurse asked:

 🍒 ofcrossroads (Madi), gyofukuki (Lune) and vonbirden (Gwyn). Have at it ! ! !

send  me  🍒  +  a  url  and  i  will  write  some  positivity  for  them.

As much as I adore all of ya, I struggle real hard in expressing myself properly, especially complimenting people. I try in my own way to express how much I appreciate your presence, and sometimes I come off as being too much. So I’m sorry if I switch between being annoying and seeming like giving you the cold shoulder. I try to balance between overenthusiasm and anxiety and hold myself back on a 24/7 basis. Long story short. I adore ya.

@ofcrossroads (Madi)

Oh Madi!! How much I adore Madi. My longest roleplay partner, my Yaomomo. One of the first people I wrote Shoto with and who helped me develop him in my first years of roleplaying where I still was all over the place with how this place works, and how it’s so incredibly fun. I feel so LUCKY to have found Madi. To be able to talk over so many different works and dynamics, to annoy occasionally, to obsess over Momo and Shoto and so many others, to read such wonderful writing and think of our threads for so long, and make me interested in characters I originally wasn't fond of is such a Madi talent. Madi has been so patient with me, and still sticks to me in many years of moving blogs a hundred times, being chaotic at times, having taken years to respond to stuff, while showing interest even in characters she doesn’t know. . . I don’t get why she handles me (and no I haven't resorted to any non-plus ultra means. yet). But also, she’s such a big comfort to be around, a friend I cherish dearly and a friend I feel so lucky to have. I just— I hold her so dear to me. She lets me be a menace to society. Thanks uwu

@gyofukuki (Lune)

Lune! Oh how much I love Lune. We’ve known each other for around a year and I swear, this was the fastest I’ve clicked with a roleplay partner before even writing. Talking to Lune became immediately such a joyful time to me, as joyful as it is to write (which doesn’t happen to me). Looking forward to their messages, to being sent songs, art, talk about the most random details about the most random dynamics we have made our own, to build such incredible verses that I could never think of (!!!), to know their thoughts and feelings and headcanons about characters and lore, and their incredibly deep understanding of characters. As much as I adore their writing, I adore talking to Lune. Because world-building with Lune has been one of the most FUN experiences I’ve had in roleplaying. And I feel horrible having such a fun time has made me at times oversharing, I know that, and I do apologize genuinely and I am working towards that (reason why I try to keep myself quiet and fail). It’s been YOUR fault (undoing my own apology. . .), but like I said, I’ve never been so interested in someone else’s thoughts on the works I love, because you DO have such great ideas, and they give me so much food for thought, nice and yummy food, and I can’t get enough of it. 

@vonbirden / lausticzt (Gwyn)

My wife. My love for Gwyn is no secret, I can’t hold back when it comes to screaming for excellent writing, amazing portrayals, the dynamics, the best character ever aka Laura. *slams table* My love for Gwyn can’t be described (let’s hope Gwyn still talks to me after this). 

I cannot but find a better reference than the Aqua x Kana dynamic. I do relate to Kana in many ways, and especially when it comes to: “ Somebody just praising my efforts would keep me going forever. Someone. Anyone. Say it's okay for me to be here. ” Praise, as if not being praised for my writing, HELL NO, but for me to be okay to hyper-focus on this one person and pour all my heart into writing with/for them. Having that special someone, where being in this silly hobby makes it okay. When roleplaying, inspiration lies on written ic interactions, and it’s easy to lose confidence sometimes. Gwyn is a very big reason why it’s worth writing. She’s my ‘I can be myself, with no fear or anxiety’ roleplay partner. My ‘I can put tons of effort in this, and it’s not going to be meaningless. As long as they read it, it’s worth it’ kind of partner.

To be SEEN by such a wonderful roleplay partner, and have her even not just read my responses but RESPOND?? To have the chance to write my favorite dynamics, all the bonds we’ve built, everything my heart yearns for. I’m hopelessly in love. I cannot even describe how GREAT Gwyn’s writing is. I always find myself mesmerized at the delicate sentiments described, the beautiful scenery, the understanding of her and my characters. How many times I told myself I should have a doc with parts of Gwyn’s writing I wanna keep and re-visit from time to time because she’s an incredible writer. 

And let’s go back to the Aqua x Kana reference. Kana’s “ Help me make this show a good one, ” is me at Gwyn. Kana’s yearning to be her best. Kana’s “ You’re always driving me crazy, ” because she feels she can unleash her best in what she does thanks to Aqua. And at last. How relaxed Gwyn makes me feel. No anxiety, no second-guessing my writing, no fear if I do this or that. Gwyn is my Aqua. That’s it.

(again, let’s hope Gwyn keeps talking to me after this show of madness)

BONUS. You thought YOU could get away?  

Miko. You’re such an awesome rp partner to be around. Your open mind, your approach to people, your writing. I love you and cherish you dearly. We’ve known each other for so long (longer than you probably remember, since I had a much different URL, yes this is a secret I've kept for long). I love sharing stuff with you, I love listening to your thoughts about the works you like, and I love gossiping with you (jk jk, I just love we both share the same views on what respect and giving space to create is). You are such a level-headed, kind-hearted person, and I love you and respect you and feel comfy around you no matter what. You write such incredible characters, you’re such a joy on the dash.

I’ve always LOVED how interactive you are with your roleplay partners (something that’s your trademark), including them to posts, tagging to art, to silly ic posts, and in general, you have a talent of bringing people together through your presence, which is . . . So waku waku. You’re very waku waku. I adore ya. *send kiss* I love ya. You're awesome.

[comicgeekery]

Sherlock & Co.: The Sign of Four

New Sherlock and Co. Thoughts!

Ok, so of course I HAD to talk about The Sign of Four. I was intrigued from the first episode. I’d been wondering when and how Sherlock and Co. would tackle the novels. They sprinkled in a few elements of The Valley of Fear early on, but that novel is a whole other situation, seeing as the majority of it isn’t a Sherlock Holmes story at all. And of course A Study in Scarlet is unavoidable as Watson and Holmes’ origin story. I suspect S&C will visit those again in different forms at some point, since neither mystery was really explored.

So The Sign of Four was an interesting choice at this stage. The show’s gotten into a good grove with 2-4 part adventures, they could have done for ages more, but it looks like the S&C team is ready to tackle more ambitious ideas.

I admit I was nervous at the start. Some of the four-part adventures have felt over-stretched (particularly Silver Blaze), so a TEN-parter might have been a disaster. Thankfully, I had nothing to worry about! The Sign of Four was captivating every week, brilliantly balancing interesting elements in every episode while also keeping the listener engaged with the larger mystery.

There were excellent deductions, familiar humor, some genuinely gripping suspense, and SO much fun when the gang all went to India! Whoever it is on the writing team who loves to write in poetic descriptions of landscapes had an absolute ball about that long train ride. I really felt like I could feel the scenery, not to mention the peaceful comradery of John, Sherlock, and Mariana. It’s so heartwarming to see how close they’ve all gotten.

I also really appreciate the tactful way that the writers and characters dealt with questions of Indian culture, British colonialism, and the connections between superstition, history, and the many things a big diamond might mean to different people. Everything seemed super respectful of India and British people of Indian descent. I don’t know if anyone at S&C is Indian themself or if there were sensitivity advisers or what, but it all clearly came with significant effort and that was SO nice.

(Note: I am white though, so it’s also possible that I missed some inaccuracies or insensitive elements.)

However, the real star of the show was always going to be the often-reimagined Mary Morstan. I was VERY curious about her, as in the original canon she and Watson get married shortly after the events of The Sign of Four.

In canon my opinion of Mary is…fine. She’s fairly brave in her adventure and it’s cute how she and Watson fall in love. But…yeah. That’s it. She’s mentioned offhand in a few other stories. Her presence is actually so vague that Sherlockians struggle to establish a timeline for her after The Sign of Four. She becomes Mrs. Watson. She’s there. She dies at some point so Watson can move back in with Sherlock. Then she’s back again? Or maybe she’s a second wife, also named Mary? It’s another one of those areas where the fans care more about Sherlock lore than Doyle ever did.

So there’s been various versions of Mary in the hundreds of Sherlock Holmes adaptations over the years. She’s usually pretty boring, a plot convenience for Watson to talk to about his latest adventure with that master detective what’s-his-name. I’m not sure if she ever showed up on Elementary, since they were focused on that whole Joan/Irene/Moriarty thing. And BBC’s Sherlock got…interesting with her. I wasn’t a fan of Mary as a secret elite assassin, but I give them credit for at least doing something with her. Until she died. Which was stupid.

The trouble with Mary is that, no matter how incredibly straight Holmes and Watson are, Mary functions as a wedge between the BroTP. She is, explicitly, the reason Watson moves out. And, since so many writers struggle to convey that people generally love and cherish more than one person at once, that means Mary must to an extent replace Sherlock in Watson’s heart.

I say all that because I want to emphasize that, hands down, Sherlock & Co.’s portrayal of Mary Morstan is the best I have ever seen.

I’m on record as really rooting for Sherlock & Co. to evolve into a gay romance. Fans have been waiting literally over 100 years for Sherlock and John to fall in love and be a couple in a professional production. I’ve felt shipping vibes in some episodes and in others John and Sherlock seemed completely platonic to me. I knew bringing in Mary could mean confirming the show as another Strictly Straight interpretation. Which would be disappointing, but not actually a sign of poor quality in any way.

First off, Mary was introduced as not quite a new character. She was meant to go on a date with Watson in the first episode, but got held up because of a traffic accident (and Sherlock did a bunch of deductions and was very clever). In functioning as a call-back to the first episode, she also easily illustrated the growth that John has had since the start of the show, when he was so freshly traumatized and uncertain about his life. Back then, it just made sense to him that his date would ghost him. He was the kind of person to be ghosted.

But we also got beautiful insights into Mary’s character. I think it was a brilliant idea to open the story with a recording of Mary as a child getting her plot-relevant bedtime story from her father. S&C is often limited in what it can portray because of the “true-crime podcaster” premise. This diagetic flashback was super clever and excellent way to tell the listener “We’re doing something different this time. Something big.”

Mary is such a FULL character too. She’s smart but shaken from her own military PTSD. She has a goofy, self-deprecating charm that complement’s John’s similar humor. She’s bisexual, a trait that informs her past and personality without feeling like just a token element to please the fans. She’s got complicated feelings about her father and his legacy. She’s understandably torn between wanting to help save a missing boy and bring criminals to justice or just washing her hands of a situation that seems to hurt more with every twist.

She and John do have an easy chemistry. They bond over their similar humor, their military trauma, and just being a warm piece of comfort for each other. As a fan of pairing John and Sherlock, there were times where I outright groaned because of how great Mary was and how sweet her budding relationship with John was. Beautiful, infuriating, 10/10.

SPOILERS BELOW

By the last episode of The Sign of Four, I was ready to admit defeat. Clearly Mary was going to be a new regular cast member and I was going to love her for the rest of the show….which is also basically what John thought.

I sincerely did not expect for her to die. Why would she? She was such a great character! I didn’t expect to end a Sherlock and Co. adventure with a real, lasting tragedy. Other characters have died, but never ones I would expect to be mentioned as on-going sources of grief in later adventures.

Her death also felt surprisingly real. It took her a week to die from her wounds and she was touch and go in the hospital. She easily could have lived. And now she’ll always be a point of a divided timeline for John. Of what might have been.

When BBC’s Sherlock killed off Mary, it felt cheap and perfunctory. She died to raise the stakes and the drama for Sherlock and John. I was never especially clear on why John was so in love with her, honestly. (It didn’t help that he’d been considering an affair at the time.) Sherlock and Co. has just delivered a masterful lesson on how to introduce a character, make her sincerely matter, and then make her death hurt for the simple reason that now she’s gone.

Bravo to Sherlock and Co. and bravo in particular to Acushla-Tara Kupe for her excellent performance as the best damn Mary Watson who never was.

[galpalaven]

The thing about FFXIV is there really is no way for me to succinctly sum up the fucking EXPERIENCE of the story from being a baby level 1 to being level 90 in Endwalker and all the joy and sorrow and love and pain and everything that happens in between A Realm Reborn and Endwalker

I have such a lovingly crafted canon around my Warrior of Light but there is no way for me to sit down and tell you the story and have it have the same impact as it does when you have spent hundreds of hours getting to the climax and knowing that it was the culmination of 10 years of lovingly crafted narrative is just so incredible

Shadowbringers and Endwalker are my favorite games in the world. It’s beautiful. I will cherish this story and its characters and the world forever

And there’s still more! We just began a new arc! I’m in the minority of people excited about it but the more time I get to spend with the characters and the world, the better

[black-arcana]

Longtime WITHIN TEMPTATION Keyboardist MARTIJN SPIERENBURG Announces His Departure From Band

Longtime WITHIN TEMPTATION keyboardist Martijn Spierenburg has announced his departure from the Dutch symphonic metal band.

Earlier today (Monday, December 9),Martijn released the following statement via social media: "After 24 incredible years, I have made the bittersweet decision to part ways with WITHIN TEMPTATION.

"This journey has been nothing short of extraordinary — filled with unforgettable moments, countless gigs, and the privilege of sharing music with an amazing group of people, both band and crew. I am truly grateful for all the moments we shared, both on and especially off stage, and I will forever cherish these memories. Together with my fellow band members, I've been able to achieve everything — and even more — than I could ever have dreamed of when I started my first piano lessons back in 1984. WITHIN TEMPTATION has been more than just a band to me; it's been a family. Leaving is not a decision I have taken lightly.

"As I step away, I look forward to working on new projects that will allow me to grow both as a musician and as a person. While this chapter closes, the love and respect I have for my bandmates will remain with me always.

"To the fans, I cannot thank you enough for all the support, energy, and love you've given me over the years. You've been the heart of my journey, and I am eternally grateful.

"So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye."

The remaining members of WITHIN TEMPTATION added in a separate statement: "Dear Martijn, cheers to you! Thank you for 24 amazing years. It's been an incredible ride together playing hundreds of shows, visiting cities around the globe and making music together. We will miss you, but this is not a goodbye."

Spierenburg joined WITHIN TEMPTATION in 2001, shortly after the release of the band's second full-length studio album, "Mother Earth".

Spierenburg co-wrote songs for various WITHIN TEMPTATION albums, including "Angels", "Memories", "Jillian (I'd Give My Heart)", "Our Solemn Hour", "The Cross", "Sinéad" and "Forgiven". Spierenburg also wrote orchestral arrangements for the band, and oversaw the orchestra when the band was recording albums.

WITHIN TEMPTATION, founded in 1996, became the prominent face of symphonic metal worldwide. For their eight studio albums, they were rewarded with the Conamus Export Prize four times in a row and various other prizes such as MTV Europe and TMF Awards, two Edisons and awards from metal magazines such as Loudwire, Metal Hammer and Revolver. WITHIN TEMPTATION has been the best internationally selling band from the Netherlands for years — with over four million albums and DVDs sold.