#it was really fun putting these together!

[goblinsatchel]

The Owl House really is the show that encapsulates what it means to be Pro-Fiction and Anti-Censorship in a society largely influenced by puritanical Christian beliefs.

The show was made by weirdos, about weirdos, for weirdos.

The prison is literally called the Conformatorium where they lock up the wild witches, the artists, the writers, and the undesirables. If you’re not contributing to society in a way they deem meaningful they have no use for you.

Worse: If you’re actively pushing back against the status quo you’re a threat and you must be silenced. (Sounds similar to our current political climate if you ask me.)

As Luz put it -> “None of you actually did anything wrong. You’re all just a bunch of weirdos.. Like me.”

Yeah I don’t think Luz would be on the side of witch hunting people down and burning them at the stake over shipping Lunter. (Pun intended.) She probably loves enemies to lovers.

Amity is a selfshipper herself, who likes forbidden romance. She had a crush on a presumably male character despite being implied to be a lesbian. (Your fictional tastes ≠ your real life tastes.) His name is Malin Gael I believe.

Me personally? I’m a multishipper. I like exploring a lot of dynamics for the fun of it. I also just generally enjoy when someone is really enthusiastic about a niche ship. This doesn’t mean I like every ship out there though. I don’t care for Amillow, but I don’t go around saying it’s a horrible ship and no one is allowed to draw them smooching.

Alex Hirsch even said to get weirder with it and Dana Terrace is all for the literary theory “Death of the Author,” Which gives reader’s the freedom to interpret a story however they want despite the authors original intentions.

Censorship is a weapon used by those in power to target not just those in minority groups, but everyone. The less information you have on any given topic the easier it is to manipulate them.

Fiction can be commentary on real world issues but viewing something “problematic” won’t somehow make you less “pure.” Or ruin your brain. (From what I’ve seen a lot of these antis and terfs perpetuate this toxic shame cycle.)

That’s why it’s so sad seeing a large portion of the community still falling for conservative propaganda that got the show canceled in the first place.

I loved The Owl House and I miss it dearly. I made this post as a sort of love letter/rant for anyone feeling misunderstood, for anyone feeling angry or hopeless with all the chaos going on in the world right now. I see you.

Keep making art and writing the stories you want to see, go comment something nice on someone’s fanfic, reblog a nice piece of art. After all.. Us weirdos gotta stick together.

[girlgenius1111]

not yourself

barcelona x teen reader your first international break does not go how you want it to. you're not yourself when you return, and your teammates make it their business to figure out what happened, and why you're so quiet and withdrawn.

—

You’d never been very good at making friends. You were quiet, and people often took that to mean you were aloof. The only reason you’d made friends at Barça was because you’d been so young when you started there. Young enough that almost everyone made an effort to try to get to know you. And while it took time, they must have decided you were worth knowing. 

Your club teammates would tell anyone who asked that you were the team’s baby. Sweet and kind. Even loud and outgoing around people you were comfortable with. Incredible on the pitch. Your teammates loved you like a younger sister, and had gained your trust. You absolutely couldn’t be described as shy around them anymore. 

So, your club teammates knew you well enough to know that if you were being quiet, it wasn’t because you thought you were better than everyone around you or because you weren’t interested in being social. You just had such anxiety when it came to social situations, especially new ones. 

No situation terrified you more than your first international call up. The weeks leading up to it, everyone kept telling you it would be okay. Whenever you fell quiet and looked like you were thinking too hard, there was always someone there to rest a hand on your shoulder or pull you into a hug and promise that everything would be okay. 

You just had to be yourself, Alexia said, and everyone would like you. 

Kika promised you had nothing to worry about, Cata said she was just a phone call away if she had to fight someone for you. None of them seemed very worried, somehow assured and convinced that you’d have no trouble making friends. 

For the first time in your career, you left when they did for the international break. You were your usual self, bubbly and smiley and excited enough that you could barely sit still. Or maybe that was just the nerves. 

You were yourself when you left, and none of them stopped to consider that you might not be when you got back.

—

Loneliness. It wasn’t a brand new feeling, but it wasn’t one you’d felt in a long time. 

Not since you were a kid, and watched the other kids play together at recess. Easily talking and laughing and having fun. Not since you were a kid and watched your parents joke and laugh with your much older siblings, only pausing to remind you to finish your homework. You’d been the outsider, then. At school and at home. 

The weird girl that tried to play football with the boys at recess, and was promptly shunned by everyone. The baby of the family that no one seemed to have any time for. Your parents had you, and soon after decided they were tired of being real parents. They were tired of spending their time with kids, only they’d realized that too late. You’d spent years eating dinner alone at the kitchen table, wondering if your parents would remember to come check on you when they got home from whatever event they’d gone to. 

So, loneliness was familiar. Perhaps you’d just forgotten how much it ached. 

Yet you were reminded, that first international break. Where once again you were the outsider, the odd one out. You weren’t very sure why. It started with the girl you were assigned to room with acting like you were the strangest, most unpleasant person she’d ever spoken to. Soon, it was everyone else doing the same. 

It was cruel little laughs when you messed up in training, and rolled eyes when you went down with an ankle injury during the match. It was assuredly not whispered overheard conversations. 

“She’s so arrogant, I don’t know how anyone puts up with her.” 

“They probably have to be nice to her at Barça, but it’s all pity, really. No one would actually want to spend time with her.” 

“I wonder if it’s in her contract, that everyone has to pretend to like her.” 

It was trying to keep your sobs silent at night as you buried your face in your pillow. It was ignoring every text you got from your club teammates asking how it was going because you were terrified that they didn’t really like you. It didn’t take much for you to be convinced you were some annoying burden on your teammates. The foundation had been laid throughout your life, and it took just a few perfectly worded comments from some of the meanest girls you’d ever encountered to shatter what little self confidence you’d managed to develop. 

It was the worst two weeks of your life. And now, somehow, you were supposed to go back to Barcelona and act normal, like you didn’t have a million doubts in your head, much more amplified than they ever had been before. 

Now, it wasn’t a small worry in the back of your mind that you were bothering Jana when you asked her to braid your hair before a match, or when Alexia drove you home from training that one evening. It had grown to a shout, drowning out any logical, reasonable competition. 

You were sure. Convinced. You were nothing but a burden. An annoying, arrogant, horrible person who no one actually wanted to be around, let alone your club teammates who had the world at their feet. 

Your lack of response to your teammates' texts was the first of many red flags. Many of them had texted you. First, your closest friends. Vicky, Sydney, Jana, Salma. But when word inevitably got around the Spain camp that you weren’t replying to your friends, more texts arrived. From Irene and Alexia, Patri, Cata, and Claudia. Almost everyone asked you some variation of how is it going, or alternatively, are you doing okay? 

Yet you were too in your head to believe they really wanted to know. This was only reinforced when the texts stopped. Though you didn’t know it, Alexia and Irene had decided you needed space for whatever reason, and told everyone to leave you alone. They didn’t want to suffocate you trying to figure out what was going on, though it was clearly something. 

So, the texts stopped, and any remaining shred of hope you carried that your national teammates were wrong, that your club teammates did care about you, disappeared too. 

—

You were pretty sure you’d never been more anxious than you were the morning you were supposed to return to Barça’s training. Every negative comment, every condescending look, every second you'd spent feeling alone and awful, had built up inside your head.

Every single thing you did prompted a flood of self deprecating thoughts. It didn't feel like you could do anything right. All you wanted was to shrink yourself down, become as small and unnoticeable as possible. If you could get through the day without anyone really looking at you, maybe you could do this.

Of course, your teammates, already worried about you after your unexplained silence, weren't going to let you be invisible.

It started with an arm slung around your shoulders the second you stepped into the locker room. Ona, a bright smile on her face.

"La pequeña is back!" She sang, pinching your cheek.

Her words didn't make you feel loved and cared for. Instead, you heart clenched, thinking she was being patronizing.

You had officially fallen off the deep end, and if you'd been in any less of a state of anxiety and self consciousness, you would have realized how wrong and unfair you were being.

You knew Ona. Ona was a good person. Ona would never hurt a fly, let alone be cruel to one of her teammates. These were all facts. Somehow, though, your sense of self had been so warped, so twisted, that you believed Ona could be a good person who wouldn't hurt a fly, yet she could also still be teasing you.

There was something to be said about how two weeks with a bunch of mean girls had completely destroyed your self confidence. Perhaps it hadn't been very strong to begin with, perhaps this deep hatred you felt towards yourself had always been inside you, just buried deep. Now, though, it had free reign. Logic could no longer control it, and it was left to run rampant through your body and mind.

You were bad. Arrogant, awful, impossible to like or care for. These feelings were the foundation of every thought you had. You were a burdensome disaster, and your teammates didn't need to be bothered with you. It wasn't worth it; you weren't worth their time.

You didn't think you were worth much at all, really.

So, you shrugged out from under Ona's arm, fixing your eyes on your cubby and hurrying over to it. No eye contact, no conversation with anyone else.

Ona was left behind you, confused. Brow furrowed, she looked at you, and then looked around the locker room. It seemed she hadn't been the only one to notice your odd behavior. Jana made eye contact with her, nodding her head slightly.

You were hyper aware of everyone around you, able to see Jana leaning closer from her spot in the cubby next to you out of the corner of your eye.

"Hey." She said quietly.

You managed some mumbled greeting in response, hands trembling where you tried to unfold your training top.

"Are you okay?" Jana inquired.

Immediately, you nodded your head. And immediately, Jana regretted her question. Of course you were going to say yes, even if it was obvious you weren't okay. She should have asked what was wrong, instead.

Someone cleared their throat behind Jana, and you let out a sigh of relief when she stepped away from you.

More concern being shown to you, yet you perceived it so differently. Jana was taking pity on you, probably. You needed to pull it together, take some deep breaths and put on a show, because you had no choice but to be fine today. No choice.

As you composed yourself, Jana and Irene exchanged quiet words.

"Something isn't right." Jana whispered, glancing back at you. Now, you were methodically trying your shoes, even a mere hint of emotion wiped from your face.

Irene was watching you, too, more concerned than she wanted to admit. Your silence while you'd been away had been odd; your behavior now, though, was downright worrying.

Yet taking one look at you told Irene that you were completely shut down. An impenetrable wall had put up, and Irene knew better than to force her way through. This wasn't the time or the place to get you to talk.

"Just leave her be for today. Whatever it is, she'll come to us when she's ready."

And maybe you would have, if it had been anything else. But when you were convinced you were a burden, the last thing you wanted to do was ask the people you felt like you were inconveniencing to reassure you that you weren't an inconvenience.

Those of your teammates that had an understanding of when to push and when not to push seemed to leave you alone. There were little things, pats on the shoulder and water bottles handed to you first before anyone else, that were supposed to send you the message that you were cared for. Yet all you could think was that your teammates saw you as an obligation.

However, some of your other teammates greatly lacked the ability to read the situation. When they saw someone being quiet and acting strangely, it wasn't in their nature to let it go. They pushed.

Teasing comments about being quiet or being too cool for the team followed you around all day. The weren't intentionally cruel, yet you couldn't seem to separate friendly teasing from what you'd endured with your national team.

Everything came to a head in the locker room after training. It was loud, everyone chattering excitedly about their breaks and getting to see their families. So loud that no one really noticed Cata and Vicky appearing on either side of you, pestering you to tell them why you were suddenly way too cool to talk to them.

“Out with it, chica!” Cata said teasingly. Maybe she was trying to lighten the mood, but you felt like she was laughing at you. “You’ve been acting like an alien all day.” 

“Were you abducted? Are you really an alien shape shifter?” Vicky laughed. 

The teasing felt cruel, though you should have known it wasn’t. The echoes of the girls from your national team still rattled around in your head, until you couldn’t tell the difference between their bullying and your teammates’ teasing. 

You shut your locker tightly, blinking hard for a second before turning around. 

“Please just leave me alone.” You said softly, voice cracking in the middle. 

Cata and Vicky froze, surprise flashing across their faces. 

“Chica, we were just–”

“I know, I know, I’ve been weird. Just make your jokes when I’m gone next time.” 

It was the closest you’d probably ever get to standing up for yourself, so maybe you were a bit proud as you headed out of the locker room. Mostly, though, you just felt pathetic. For ever thinking your teammates had cared about you when they had no reason to. For ever thinking you were fun to be around or fun to talk to. 

You’d been trying to be quiet and fade into the background. Not draw attention to yourself. It only confirmed in your head that your teammates saw you as a pitiful charity project they didn’t actually want to be around when they seemed to zero in on this change in your behavior. 

You couldn’t picture it coming from a place of worry or care. The girls your age hated you, and there was no reason why much more successful women wouldn’t feel the same way. 

Hastily, you made your way out of the locker room, ignoring every sideways glance from your teammates. You even ignored Alexia calling your name, not thinking yourself capable of holding it together for much longer. You needed to get home, where you could be pathetic by yourself and not bother anyone with it.

Yet behind you, every single one of your teammates, every single one of your friends, were left bewildered. Something wasn't right. And they were not the type of people to let something like this go.

—

It was Sydney that got to you. She’d clearly had a bad training session, a bad day. It surprised you when your phone lit up with a text from her, asking if she could come over. You said yes immediately, willing to help even while you were convinced you were the perpetual butt of some joke. 

Sydney been near tears when she knocked on your front door, and you didn't hesitate to pull her over to your sofa, wrap a soft cream blanket around her shoulders, and move the box of tissues on the coffee table ever so slightly closer to her.

"What's going on?" You asked, trying to keep your voice even and calm.

Sydney sniffled, burying her face in her hands.

"Everything," she said, voice muffled. "I just… I don't think I'm good enough to be here. Everyday at training, all I can do is doubt myself and rethink my decisions and then I play horribly. It's unbearable. I want to go home, I miss my parents and my sister and cold weather and—"

"Woah, slow down." You urged. "Take a breathe, you're spiraling."

Sydney inhaled shakily, and you reached out, resting a supportive hand on her forearm.

"It's just… really hard, being so far away from home and playing for the best team in the world. I should feel happy and lucky, and I do, but I'm so scared all the time that I'm not good enough."

You knew exactly how she was feeling. It was probably a rough time that every young player at Barcelona felt, a point everyone reached. You weren't even sure that you didn't still feel that way.

In that moment, you were glad you'd felt this way before, if for no other reason than being able to help Sydney more.

"Syd, you wouldn't be here if you weren't good enough. Having a crisis of confidence like this just shows you care, and you have the passion you need to play for this team."

Sydney looked up at you and sniffled, cautiously hopeful. "You think so?"

"Absolutely. What you're feeling is so normal, Syd, I promise. It's an adjustment and you just have to be patient with yourself. It's going to get better, I promise."

This time, Sydney nodded, wiping at her eyes. "Yeah, you're probably right."

You fidgeted with your fingers in your lap, wracking your brain for what else to say, what would have made you feel better when you'd felt like this. Sydney looked comforted, sure, but you knew that your advice was probably not very good, and she deserved more than you were able to give her.

“Do you want me to call one of the older girls, Syd? They can probably help better than me.” You suggested, biting down on your lower lip in worry. 

Sydney shook her head. “No, you’re helping. You always give good advice, and you always know what to say to calm me down. That’s why I’m here. I think I just needed to cry.” 

Her words shocked you, and it was obvious that she could tell.

"I actually didn't just come over here to cry on your couch." Sydney said, no longer looking quite as sad, concern flooding her features. "I wanted to check on you. Something seemed really off today."

You shifted uncomfortably, whole body suddenly tense. "No, I'm—"

"Do not tell me that you are fine. You seem… you seem really not okay. Everyone's noticed, and Irene has insisted we give you space, that you'll talk to someone about whatever is wrong when you're ready, but that doesn't feel right to me. You shouldn't let someone who is clearly hurting isolate themselves."

Sydney spoke with the wisdom of a much older woman. Her hazel eyes, too, seemed to study you in a way that pierced your soul. So much so that you suddenly didn't know how you were going to push this away, how you were going to convince her you were okay.

There was something else, too. The thing about Irene and space and you reaching out when you were ready. It tugged at your chest, maybe some very tiny remaining part of you that remembered how much you trusted your teammates.

Two weeks that felt like an eternity were enough to do a lot of damage on your psyche, that much was obvious. Those weeks, paired with your long standing tendency to fall into a pit of self hatred, were enough to have you questioning everything, your friendships most of all. You'd shrunk yourself down, trying to take up as little space as possible, as you always had when you were younger. When it was clear you were annoying your parents or your siblings, you shut down.

You were shutting down now, but there was some part of you, maybe some healed part of you, that couldn't stop thinking of tight hugs and reassuring words and movie nights and homemade dinners and rides home from training. None of that matched up with the way you were feeling, until all you were sure of in that moment, was that you were confused.

You were so confused. Sydney reaching out and checking on you didn't make sense. Irene telling everyone to give you space, and that you'd talk to someone when you were ready didn't make sense. Sydney saying you were clearly hurting didn't make sense; you weren't hurting, not really. You were just being realistic. Weren't you?

Sydney seemed genuine, though. And that was the thing that really tripped you up. She would have had to go very much out of her way to come over here and check on you, even if she apparently came also because she trusted you to make her feel better about her own terrible day.

Nothing made sense anymore. It hadn't since you'd left for the break two weeks ago, and realized you were existing in a bubble where everyone tolerated your presence because they had to.

"Did something happen over the break?" She probed, carefully watching the shift of your facial expression. Immediately, she knew she'd gotten it right. Your face had fallen for just a moment, before the wall was drawn back up. But she'd seen the devastation in your eyes at the reminder. "Okay, so yes. Tell me what happened."

Sydney could come off as a very quiet, soft spoken person. but when it came to the people she cared about, which you could no longer deny included you, she was a force to be reckoned with, and you found yourself opening your mouth to answer without even trying to fight it very hard.

"It's fine. Some of the girls were… they didn't like me. But it's okay, really. I'm okay."

Sydney raised one eyebrow, like she didn't believe you for a second. "Didn't like you? Why not?"

Her face was so genuinely confused, her tone baffled. She didn't seem to understand the idea of someone not liking you. And, you suppose, that's what made you break. Tears welled in your eyes even as you shook your head, trying to ward the emotions off.

"Because I'm annoying and arrogant and aloof and untalented and undeserving of my spot here." The words tumbled out of you, like you'd been bursting at the seams trying not to let them go until that moment.

"Is that what they said?" Sydney asked, eyes wide and angry.

You nodded, jaw locked so tightly it looked painful.

"Is that what you believe?"

This time, you shrugged. Yet, somehow, it was obvious what that shrug meant.

"That's absurd. Obviously they're just jealous of you because you're so much more successful than them."

The issue with that explanation was that you couldn't hear it without picturing a mother telling her spoiled teenage daughter with an awful personality the exact same thing. She didn't have friends because people were jealous of her, not because she was terrible. You couldn't envision yourself as anything other than the terrible one in the situation.

You shrugged again, trying to act like you didn't care, like none of it even mattered anyway. "Yeah, whatever. It's not a big deal."

Sydney looked at you for a long moment, considering. Her eyes were warm, her aura exuding gentleness. Still, you braced yourself for something hurtful.

"It seems like a big deal. It would feel like a big deal for me."

You bit your lip for a moment before shaking your head. "It's not."

It was a lie, and you both knew it. There was no part of you that was willing to let this conversation go any further, though. You couldn't talk about this, or you'd break, and that wouldn't be fair to put on Sydney. So, you changed the subject.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter. Do you want to watch a movie? To get your mind off things?" You asked, trying to appear relaxed as you leaned back into the sofa and uncrossed your arms.

Sydney knew she had two options; she could push, insist you talk to her, or she could let you shut the conversation down and watch a movie with you. She was fairly certain that the first option would end with you shutting down even further, and her leaving your apartment. And the second… well, you'd still be shut down, but at least you wouldn't be alone. So, for now, Sydney let you table the conversation, well aware that she had a few people to call on her way home.

"A movie sounds good." She agreed.

Yet even after you'd both agreed on a film, even as the room feel silent as the opening chords of the score flooded out of the speakers, you could feel the concern radiating off Sydney in waves. And you worried she wouldn't let this go.

—

The thing about having no self confidence was that sometimes, you could be really fucking delusional. Over the course of the evening and night, and into the following day, you'd somehow managed to convince yourself that nothing else would come of the conversation you'd had with Sydney the night before. Because, really, why would anyone care to follow up? It was one thing to be nice to you at training, but your personal issues were no one's responsibility but your own.

Maybe it was your brain trying to take the safe option. Maybe it was some part of you reaching out for help in a very backwards way, knowing that if you convinced yourself there would be no conversation the next day, no worried glances from your teammates, you'd be much more likely to be taken off guard, and much more likely to talk. Whatever it was, you walked into the locker room the next morning, 75% sure that nothing would come of the conversation you'd had with Sydney the day before.

And right back out the locker room you walked, head down, eyes fixed on the floor, following Alexia and Patri. Briefly, you wondered how Patri was chosen for this conversation. Likely, it had been her that Sydney had gone to talk to, finding the youngest captain to be the easiest to approach. If you knew Irene and Marta, though, you knew they'd be itching to talk to you, too.

You followed Alexia and Patri to the room the team used for watching match footage, slumping into a chair as they both pulled ones over to sit in front of you. It felt oddly like some kind of job interview, both of their gazes fixed intently on you. They looked upset, almost, and you honestly weren't sure how this conversation would go.

Maybe it wasn't about the break and what had happened. Maybe you'd actually done something wrong, and gotten yourself into trouble.

Before you could spiral any further, Patri cleared her throat and spoke.

"You haven't been yourself." She said simply, eyes trained on your face, ready to catch even a flicker in your expression.

You opened your mouth, though you weren't quite sure what you were about to say. Alexia spoke before you could, though, shaking her head insistently as if you'd spoken.

"No. Do not deny it. You left for the break normal, smiley and laughing and happy. And you came back sad and quiet and shy. You haven't been this quiet and this withdrawn since you first came here, so something clearly happened while you were gone. And I want to know what happened."

Alexia could come on rather strong when it came to the well being of the people she cared about. This was something Patri knew very well, having been on the receiving end of it enough times. Yet she didn't want Alexia to seem too harsh, and make you think that you were in trouble when they were really just worried about you.

"Why do you want to know? It's not your responsibility, I was away with my national team, it has nothing to do with Barcelona."

Alexia and Patri exchanged a glance, confusion written across both their faces.

"What? It's not about responsibility, chica, it's about you. We want to know because we care about you."

Shockingly, as you'd approached this conversation with such hostility, your lip began to tremble. You bit down on it, hard, looking anywhere but at your captains.

"You do?"

Alexia and Patri were both stunned into silence for a moment. They didn't understand what they could have possibly done to make you doubt that they cared about you. The entire team had spent a long time earning your trust, and now it seemed like that trust had evaporated.

You'd been so young when you arrived at Barcelona, you still were so young. And neither Patri nor Alexia could see anything other than a young girl who needed love and support when they looked at you.

Alexia reached out, putting one hand on your shoulder. She waited until you lifted your gaze to meet hers, eyes filled with tears. She hadn't seen you look this small and this vulnerable in a very long time.

"Of course we do. Of course. We want to know what happened because we want to help."

At this, you shook your head, wiping your tears with the hem of your training top.

"No, this isn't your problem, it's mine. You don't have to fix it for me."

"Well, maybe we want to." Patri said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Just tell us, chica. Please." Alexia asked, her tone of the verge of begging. They were both looking at you so intently, so pleadingly and so caringly, that you weren't really sure what else to do. Your options seemed like… telling them what happened, or running from the room and never looking back.

"It was just… some of the girls at camp. They didn't like me. They said some stuff I guess I let get in my head."

It was the vaguest, barest bones summary you could have come up with, and you could tell both the older women wanted to ask for more details, insist on names and exactly what was said so they could make it right.

But there you sat in front of them, arms crossed tightly over your chest, looking like you were physically trying to hold yourself together. And they knew they shouldn't push you.

Of course, you were worried that if you told them exactly what was said, they'd agree, however unlikely that was. But more than that, the things that had been said to you and about you weren't things you ever really wanted to repeat again. Even listing them off to Sydney the night before had been painful, like you were hearing them all over again.

"Niña, you understand why the girls were mean, yes?" Patri asked gently.

You shrugged, because you didn't, not really. All you could think was that you deserved it.

"Because you are 17 years old and playing for this team. You are so talented, and so promising, and so humble about it, too. Those girls have no idea how to handle that jealousy without being cruel, without trying to put you down to make themselves feel taller."

You had to admit, when Patri explained it, it made sense. Hearing those words from her took some of the weight off your shoulders, even if it was only a little bit for now.

Alexia hummed her agreement to what Patri said, nudging your foot with hers before she spoke. "We can't fix what happened while you were gone, nena. But we can tell you that you are not alone, and nothing that was said to you was true. You are good and kind and you deserve to be here. Okay?"

Again, all you could do was shrug. But Alexia could see the tears silently sliding down your face, and she knew that what she'd said had mattered, had been what you needed to hear.

"Ven," Alexia said, standing and opening her arms for you. You buried yourself into the hug, letting the warmth from Alexia calm you.

It wasn't magically better. You didn't suddenly, miraculously feel better about yourself and who you were as a person. It just didn't feel as heavy, in that moment.

Your captains had gone out of their way to check on you, to insist you talk to them, just like Sydney had. There was no obligation for them to fulfill, they'd done it because they wanted to. Because they cared about you. And whether or not you thought that care was valid or deserved, it didn't matter. It was there either way.

Patri hugged you, too, after Alexia finally let go, murmuring something about finding those girls and teaching them a lesson, and you laughed. The both smiled at your smile like they'd won a prize, Patri slinging an arm across your shoulders as she walked you out of the film room and back to the locker room.

It was just as loud as ever in there, music blasting from the speaker. Pina had commandeered Patri's phone in her absence, and was playing something that Vicky was calling an abomination. Jana grabbed your wrist as soon as you stepped foot through the door, pulling you over to the bench in front of your cubby and practically shoving you down onto it. She started braiding your hair without you even asking, and you knew then that everyone had noticed something up with you, not just Sydney, and not just your captains.

The volume of the locker room didn't feel like a party happening around you that you weren't invited to, anymore. It felt comfortable, the way it always had before.

You didn't realize you were sitting there, smiling, until Sydney caught your eye from across the room. She looked anxious, and you realized she probably expected you to be angry with her for going to Alexia and Patri about you.

Somehow, though, you weren't upset. You weren't really anything but relieved that your entire team didn't hate you. You smiled wider at Sydney, nodding your head once. Relief flooded her face, turning into amusement as Jana lightly slapped the top of your head, telling you not to move or you'd mess her up.

It really surprised you how much better you felt. How much a few people just caring and reaching out had done. You didn't really feel like questioning it, though. You didn't feel like ruminating in the thoughts and rethinking your every action.

You just felt like being there with your team, without overthinking anything. And that was a massive step in and of itself.

—

i know i throw this around a lot but i truly hate this. could not physically spend any more time on it thought without losing my mind, so i hope it's not too bad. don't tell me if it is thx <3

[reallymyanchor]

Jed and I started hanging out in high school. We liked the same stuff: running, weights, and girls. We even swapped girlfriends a few times. After school, we moved in together.

I think it happened slowly, but maybe it didn’t. Maybe it was there since the beginning. I started to take responsibility for a lot of the house stuff: I’d cook us meals, prepare his lunch. I spent hours in the kitchen each day. I cleaned, I did the washing : even his rank gym gear.

one day I was video calling my folks, and he butted in to say hi to them, and to let them know that I was great “Wife material”. In the gym, he usually planned out our workouts: gradually, he dialled down the amount of resistance weights I was doing, and added in more cardio. Over a few months, I got leaner, and he started to look physically larger than me, his muscles bulky and thick.

For my birthday, he got me some new underwear and a 1.5inch cock cage. He insisted that I put it on immediately. I’d never used a chastity cage before, and I needed to get his lunch ready for the day. I crammed my cock into the metal device, connecting it to the ring around the base of my dick. I clicked the tiny padlock into place.

You don’t really notice the privilege of having something until it’s taken away. Even though it wasn’t visible from the outside, my every step become something erotic because of the cage. I was used to wanking everyday, but this put a stop to that. My cock couldn’t get anywhere near hard, and the sexual frustration built up in me way faster than I thought. Even as I cut my birthday cake, all I could think about was the key that hung around Jed’s neck, and how desperately I wanted to touch my cock.

One day I woke to a dildo and some lubr on my bedside and a note “Have some fun today, wifey. I’ve called in sick for you.”

I picked it up: it was bigger than my cock. Fuck I needed so release. I lubed it up, lifted my leg, and pushed it into my virgin ass. It hurt a little, but the wave of pleasure that came from the penetration was the overwhelming emotion. Fuck it felt so good, I pushed it deeper inch my inch. In my cock cage, my dick pulsed a wad of cum. Fuck this was great.

That evening when Jed arrived home, he found me on the bed in a puddle of my own cum, the dildo fully inserted in my ass. He pulled it out and replaced it with his own cock. I’d never taken dick before, and the veins and shape of him have so much more pleasure than the dildo.

over the next few months, I started to grow his baby. I stopped going to the gym. He helped me write my resignation, and I stepped into the next chapter of my life as a full time housewife.

[penny-anna]

the problem w the Meddling Monk is that EU writers like to turn him into 'the Master, but funny', but that is not his vibe at all.

he is NOT some kind of meglomaniac and i wouldn't even say he's evil. in his 1st story his end goal is just to re-write history into what he feels would be a better course and then move onto his next scheme. in his 2nd story he's out for petty revenge against the Doctor but i don't think he's even planning on harming or killing him? yes he's gonna strand him on a volcano planet but like i think he probably anticipates the Doctor will free himself eventually.

here's the thing w the Monk: a major source of ongoing conflict in the show is the Doctor attempting to tread the line between interfering too much and not interfering too much. the Time Lords represent one end of this spectrum, ie total non-interference in other societies.

the Monk exemplifies too much interference. he decided that the non-inteference policy is BS and that he should be able to do whatever he wants. and the thing is, he is genuinely well-intentioned in this regard! he thinks the changes he wants to make to the timeline are improvements.

and he does genuinely care about the wellbeing of members of other species - in The Time Meddler when an injured man shows up at his monastery he really does try to help him, to the point of using anachronistic medical technology and lamenting the fact that he isn't able to give him a blood transfusion.

but the problem is, he's essentially treating all of history like his personal playground. he treats the Vikings and the Saxons like action figures he can mash together. he's like an overgrown child playing god.

and in many respects he's very like the Doctor!! who is also interfering with other societies with a view to improving things and also, frequently, playing god, acting like a big kid, and expressly describes his goal as 'having fun'.

the Monk is what the Doctor could be if he lacked moral scruples. he's got no backbone. he's straight up a dirty coward. but he's a nice guy! i think in his mind he's the chaotic good hero of the story and the Doctor is the big mean cop trying to put him in jail ):<

im not convinced that putting him in Daleks' Master Plan was a good idea per se but it does make for a really interesting juxtaposition seeing him throwing people under the bus to save his own skin vs the Doctor's repeated willingness to put his life on the line to stop the daleks.

anyways all this to say, i think the Monk makes for a really interesting foil to the Doctor, kind of, in the opposite direction to the Master?

& i think a really good use of the Monk would be in a 'companion grapples with the concept of changing history' story. give him a Scheme that sounds like a genuinely good idea on the surface but would be catastrophic in practice.

[araswritingblog]

Date Everything characters with a player who has selective mutism part 2

Characters: Dolly, Dasha, Mateo, Airyn, Dorian, Luke Nukem

(The reception to part one was lovely, thank you for all the kind words! This was written as a form of self comfort so to see others finding comfort in my writing is really lovely. As with my first part, this was written based on my own personal experience with selective mutism so it might not apply to everyone.)

Dolly

Aren't you just the sweetest thing?

Likes quiet, gentle types as they aren't pushy or tumultuous.

You're her favorite student: a fantastic listener, always willing to learn, writing down your questions for her.

She loves that you try to engage in discussions with her even when you can't find the words to say out loud; a pencil and paper are good for more than just taking notes after all.

You are the perfect research partner to take to archaeological sites because you approach things with respect and quietude. She finds that she actually enjoys these trips more when you're there to hear her thoughts and theories.

If you feel confident enough to share your own insights she will nod along encouragingly, praising your good ideas and gently correcting you on the more farfetched ones.

Appreciates how reflective you are, it makes for more stimulating intellectual conversations as she knows you consider your words thoroughly before speaking.

It may take you a while to become comfortable talking to her as her intelligence and self assured demeanor can be intimidating at first, but with enough reassurance she manages to get you to open up.

Enjoys quiet intimate moments with you, especially reading together with Lint Eastwood snuggled between you.

Gives excellent pep talks when you're feeling low.

Dasha

Thinks you are absolutely adorable.

Explain your situation to her and she understands immediately.

Steps up right away: you want to write instead of speaking? Dasha will write too! You want to help another object but are too anxious to talk to them? For all intents and purposes, Dasha's your voice now! Want help becoming more confident when speaking? Dasha's great at helping!

Uses practice dates as a way to improve your social skills.

If you manage to talk your way through the date, even if it's just a little bit, she'll be so pleased with you: you're improving, that's great!

Will lift you up and try to make you giggle and/or squeal. It's not her fault you make the cutest little noises.

When she notices you've been smiling and vocalizing more around her, her heart swells. She's seen all the effort you've put into improving yourself for the sake of everyone in the house and she's deeply touched by that.

When you finally work up the courage to ask her on a proper date she's the speechless one, you've never seen someone turn so red. She accepts of course, she would be a fool not to after how many times she's fantasized about this moment.

It's almost impossible to feel sad or insecure with Dasha around, she's always there to pick you up (literally and figuratively; often both at the same time).

If you're able to speak to another dateable on your own, brace yourself for the biggest bear hug imaginable. In her eyes, every word spoken is a huge leap of progress and she couldn't be more proud.

Mateo

Takes him no time at all to understand and grow accustomed to your silent manner.

He takes a very gentle approach when interacting with you, always incredibly patient with you and your needs.

Never makes you feel pressured to vocalize. He's happy to communicate in whichever way is most comfortable to you.

Admires how you push yourself to help others even if you're too anxious to talk to them.

Especially grateful when you set aside time to help with the inanimals.

In your silence you have grown very observant and attuned to your surroundings, so finding Davi when he runs off is a breeze. You actually find it quite fun to focus on a task that doesn't involve talking to others. After you return with Davi Mateo becomes especially soft with you. You're something special (not to mention cute) and he doesn't want to let that go.

Interacting with animals has always been easier for you; there's less expectation or judgement. Because of this you're able to speak to the inanimals without trouble: cooing at them, telling them they've done a good job, comforting them when they get hurt. In fact, while he's heard you say a few words here and there, this is how Mateo first hears you properly speaking:

One of the smaller inanimals snagged a thread on a piece of furniture and you were patching them up, soothing them with your soft, sweet voice and delicately placing them back onto the ground with a cheerful 'Good girl!'

That's the moment it truly sunk in just how precious you'd become to his world.

You're still in that state of comfortable affection when you look up at him and say hello. He can't help the adoring smile that crosses his face as he pulls you into his arms, thanking you for helping out his little friend.

Doesn't patronize or make a big fuss about you talking, although his smile does seem just a bit brighter when you do choose to use words instead of silent communication.

You find yourself naturally becoming more vocal with him as the time goes by, conversations don't leave you exhausted, they just seem to flow naturally, and as a result your overall confidence when speaking seems to improve. It's gradual, but you find yourself able to talk to some of the others in the house, especially when you have one of the inanimals with you (they provide a perfect topic for conversation, and a perfect excuse to leave when you start to feel awkward)

Always there to cuddle if you feel overwhelmed, or on days when it feels like your throat's been barricaded shut. You're always at home in his arms. And if he's ever busy, you're free to snuggle with all the inanimals you want (they absolutely adore you).

Airyn

...

She's already in love with you from the moment you meet.

You understand the importance of letting yourself breathe without unsettling the air with meaningless chatter, and that makes her feel seen. Recognized. Respected.

The few words you do speak are spoken with reason and often give her a new perspective to consider, you are thoughtful, you do not waste the air with unnecessary contrivances, you actually interest her. She's always sure to respond.

She only speaks to you when spoken to, otherwise she's happy just enjoying the silence. You feel safe in these silences, enjoying the company of another with out the pressure of words.

Your relationship is a pure mutual understanding. Uninterrupted tranquility.

When you realize her the dynamic shifts entirely, though not in an unwelcome way.

You still never feel the pressure of carrying a conversation, but now it's for the simple fact that even if you wanted to speak you probably wouldn't be able to get a word in.

She can and will talk you to anything and everything, always with the most eager, dreamy smile on her face, not just because she enjoys talking, but because she enjoys talking to you. She's truly beautiful like this.

If you want to shut her up for a few seconds just give her a kiss. It's always sure to leave her breathless, in a way she never thought could feel so good.

You use those few moments of quiet to let your own voice be heard, and heavens above is that her favorite sound (she can't wait to tell you all about it once you've finished speaking).

But for now she'll listen. She never forgot how to listen.

Dorian

So incredibly understanding.

Never pushes you to speak if you don't want to.

One of the first objects in the house you feel comfortable speaking to: the upfront way he offered his friendship right from the get-go made you feel safe, like you'd already known him for a while (which you sort of did, in a technical sense).

He always seems to know what you need from him whenever you approach. Your questions get answered without you having to ask them.

Admires your willingness to help others and the courage it takes for you to push aside your anxieties when doing so.

You have a very difficult time saying no and expressing boundaries and thus often find yourself feeling cornered into doing things you'd rather not. But don't worry, Dorian has become quite adept at reading your expressions and body language and will immediately step in if he notices you looking uncomfortable.

Quite protective: he doesn't want you being used by the wrong sort.

If you whisper to him that you need his help with someone he'll be right there at your side, ignoring the fluttery feeling he always seems to get at the rare sound of your voice - this proof of your trust in him.

A steadfast companion, not to mention incredibly soft on you - he finds your gentle and friendly, albeit hesitant, approach to others endearing.

Once you've interacted with all of his forms he can no longer deny the strong attachment he's formed to you; the genuine kindness and patience you've shown, the dedication to truly getting to know him despite your anxiety, you have no idea how much that all means to him.

He feels fulfilled in the knowledge that you trust him deeply, and he can trust you just the same.

Luke Nukem

Definitely thinks it's some cool 'silent killer' thing. He barely even bats an eye.

Encourages you to write all your notes to him in code (yes you do spend a full session with him inventing your own secret code; can't risk any swarmers deciphering your communications).

Initially you feel too awkward to explain the true reason for your silence so you play along, and honestly, it's pretty fun. The escapism of stepping outside of yourself and becoming a 'ranger' actually makes the socializing easier.

Luke's authority and... muchness still sort of scares you away from vocalizing, but you'll find your voice eventually.

When he opens up to you following the magnetron incident, you find his vulnerability gives you the courage to speak on your own dishonesty/omissions. You express to him the truth behind your silence, the paralyzing fear that comes with talking to others, the heavy loneliness of not being unable to express yourself.

When you turn back to him, his wide eyes are full of tears and before you can speak another word you're wrapped in a bone crushing hug. He babbles into your hair about how he's never met another person who understood the crushing weight of isolation and the terror of not being able to trust those around you (you never know who might be an enemy). You're comrades for life now, ranger; the secret of your voice is safe with him.

Yeah... he still doesn't quite get it but he cares and that's what's important.

He's honored that you trust him with your voice, and only thinks you're even cooler and braver now that he knows your truth (or at least his twisted version of your truth).

Tell him you love him. Go on. Use your pretty voice and tell him. You've never seen a man look so frazzled. He's buzzing. Literally.

Say anything to him and his day get's brighter. No amount of powercrank could give him the high your words do.

(Thank you again for reading! If you want to see any characters in part three let me know!)

[zombieloid]

Relaxing night with Dick Nightwing Grayson

MDNI | FDNI

Dick Grayson/Nightwing x Top male reader 

Warnings: Drugs (weed), blowjob (reader receiving), unexpected/unfinished ending (?)

Word count: 890

Doubtful english and grammar (kinda?)

All content contained here is the intellectual property of @zombieloid on Tumblr. Do not copy or repost. ask before translating.

You and Dick met in college. You were roommates and frequent the same parties, and it's obvious to you how stressed and tense he's been. You decide to help him relieve some of that tension.

It's 3 a.m. when Dick gets back from his "internship at Wayne Enterprises"? Or something like that, he explained at some point, but you didn't pay much attention."Man, you look like hell," you say, getting up from the couch and seeing him jump. Well, he definitely didn't expect you to be awake right now... "What are you doing up so late? You scared me!" he says, tossing the apartment keys on the coffee table. "To say I scared you is an understatement; you almost went through the ceiling," you say humorously. "Well, I was hoping we could have some fun and relax tonight." Dick watches you swing the bag of drugs with curiosity disguised as indifference. He knows he shouldn't, but it feels so good, and maybe you're right, maybe he really deserves to relax a little...

'Oh shit, he did it again! How can he have so much power over me?!' Dick thought before realizing he was already sitting on the couch watching you roll a joint. 'I shouldn't do this! It's wrong and disgusting!' he thought as he took a drag on the joint and coughed furiously. You patted Dick on the back to help him expel the smoke. "It amazes me that a guy who spends entire nights out doesn't know how to inhale a cigarette," you said, laughing at Dick's embarrassed expression.

You decided to teach him how. He coughed a lot the first few times, but soon got the hang of it. The room was filled with smoke and fruity smells. At some point, you turned on the TV, which was playing an American football game.

Although you weren't paying much attention to it, you weren't paying much attention to anything until you felt a warm weight beside you. You didn't realize how close Dick was to you until now, and apparently he didn't either. You're reclining on the couch, almost lying down as you exhale smoke from the corner of your mouth. Dick is right next to you, your sides touching. His knee bumps yours, and you can feel his warm breath on your cheek. He's looking at you, definitely closer than is socially acceptable for "roommates who smoke joints together."

This wouldn't bother you if you weren't certain that the moment you turn around, he'll look at you with those puppy-dog blue eyes of his, and you won't be able to do anything but fuck him to death, and you know you can't do that. You're both stoned, and you're sure Dick will regret this the next day. He doesn't seem to care. His breath hitches against your cheek, and you give in to instinct and look.

Shit. Shit. Shit. His eyes are bleary and dilated, his black hair is messy and plastered to his forehead, and... Oh my God, his mouth hangs open, his breathing heavy as he stares at you hungrily.

You can't resist, but who could blame you? Dick is a complete temptation.

The moment you lay eyes on him, you connect your lips in a sloppy, messy open-mouthed kiss. You reach for the ashtray on the table to put out the joint, while it seems Dick's sole purpose in life is to undo your belt.

You eventually manage to stub out the cigarette in the ashtray as Dick undoes your belt and stands between your legs, his eyes pleading. He wants this so badly, and how could you deny him something he desires so much? You nod in approval, and he finishes pulling your pants down to your thighs.

Your semi-hard cock pushes against the fabric of your blue briefs. He lowers his head, licking your erection through the fabric. You hiss at the sensation. He feels so good. He quickly pulls down your underwear, letting your cock slap against your abdomen before Dick takes it in his mouth again, remaining still, warming your cock. You moan and throw your head back... this boy is going to drive you crazy... soon. He stays still until you put a hand in his hair, encouraging him to move. From there, there are quick tongue movements followed by a few seconds of deep throating and his moans... my god, it's so obscene that it makes you blush profusely and throw your head back. You're so close, and he feels so good it should be illegal.

You look at him to let him know you're close and realize he's already looking at you from under his wet lashes, just watching your pleasured expressions. He's so handsome like that, flushed, pupils dilated, hair tousled, and drool running down his chin as his mouth is filled with your cock. You come with an unannounced gasp, and he seems more than happy to take it all, groaning at the taste of your cum on his tongue.

He pulls away from your cock, getting up from his knees and sitting on your lap and kissing you hard as you feel the taste of your own cum in his mouth.

Apparently your relaxing night turned into a porn-worthy night, but I'm sure Dick will wake up 100% refreshed after this. I don't know about you...

[aromantic-isopod]

okay so slight warning before i start. its 7 in the morning and i have yet to sleep so i can only hope this is coherent. and i havnt rewatched since it came out so i may misremever some stuff. also spoilers (under cut)

first off: rick riordan promised us a book accurate show. espescially after the non book accurate movies. i think he even said he preten s the moviees dont exist.

what do we gwt? fucked up plot. fuckdd up pacing. fucked up characterization. also the episodes wee boring as hell (granted some more than others but still). all because rr decided it was best to make it how he thought he should have.

i get that when adapting a book to tv some stuff will have to change but man... how do you fuck up your own book that badly

2: whenevr the trio enconters a monster/mythilogical figure, one of them will always go "youre *insert name here*" which destroys all of the tension??? or in the case of medusa she literaly says "i am medusa" and then the trio?? just follows her into her lair??? even though they are completly okay supplies/exhastion levels???

the reason they go into her lair in the book is becasue they are tired. and hungry. and this nice lady is inviting them in for a meal and maybe soem rest. idk its been a while since i read them. but you get my point.

3. in the books percy's mom, sally,was describ ed as very kind, not even raising her voice at percy when shes upset with him. mean whilw sally in the books? asshole. she yelled at and i think even threatened him. also show doesnt explain why sally put up with gabe (her boyfriend who sucks) or why she gets blue foods for percy.

4. percy's claimig in the show happened in the lake. and somehow the whole camp was there? it made much more sense in the book where it happens in the river when the capture th flag get interrupted by a hellhound attack and the two teams getting together to fight at the games middle border due to compbination of fight the hellhounds plus trying to stop the other team from winning

5. in books the various gods they meet while questing are seen as kinda casual and not very godly. except for hades. who is quiet serious and godly and threatening.

in the show hades is all cheery and very chill. every other god is so serious. (except for dionysus. but he was pretty simular to the books)

6. they go into the casino, immediatly go oh its lotus eaters (see point 2), and dont get to play any games and waste half their quest time playing them. got rid of all the fun :(

straight up can rememver why they went in in the show either

7. there didnt seem to be much of a deadline for their quest? what happened to the danger of zeus going to war if the trio doesnt get succeed and home in time? hello?

8. could not tell you anything about the ares percy fight because someone decided the best way to set a scene in the dark was to just leave everything dark and therefore very hard to see much of anything

9. the main trio felt quite...flat. why was everyone so damn serious all the time?

10. not really a show issuse but it seems worth mentioning that a good chunk of the fanbase will attack you for the slightest criticism of eithe the show or riordan. or pointing out that it is not book accurate

this isnt everthing but im tired and i have been typing for over an hour. if you want to hear more there are some good video esssays on youtube about it. there is also the pjo show crit tag

all this being said i will give some crdit where it is due and say hearing nico call for bianca in the casino, as subtle as it was, was amzing (characters from later books)

so was sally trying to explain the whole being a son of a god to percy and him just assumeing hes the second coming of christ

and i think the casting choices for the main trio was great!!

anyways tldr the only adaptation worth watching is the musical

[merrybloomwrites]

Find Your Pleasing

Summary: As Harry’s girlfriend, you’re often asked to test Pleasing products before they hit the store. The newest product you’re asked to test is a bit different than the others.

CW: sex toys, vibrator, smut

Word Count: 1.8K

AN: Obviously had to write a story about the newest Pleasing drop. I’m sure there are others out there but I haven’t had a chance to read any yet, so if this is similar to another one I promise it isn’t on purpose

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

Being Harry Styles’ girlfriend came with a fair number of responsibilities. There was plenty of traveling, supporting him at shows and movie premiers, helping behind the scenes when needed.

Ever since the start of Pleasing, you’d gained another role. Product tester.

Harry respected your feedback, and always asked your opinion on everything they were working on. He’d spend hours in meetings with the development team and still come home and talk about it more with you.

You might not have an official title in the business, but Pleasing wouldn’t be the same without you.

He never let you go easy on him either. He wanted honest feedback. If you didn’t like a nail color, if a perfume smelled off, if you thought a product wasn’t up to a high enough standard, he wanted to hear it. He asked you to be his harshest critic.

But for some reason, Harry is being quite secretive about the latest meeting. He won’t tell you what they talked about, or what products they’re hoping to drop next.

“You’ll see!” He’d said. “I promise the wait will be worth it.”

After that, he’d taken you to bed. The two of you spent the following hours having a very enjoyable evening, one in which Harry brought out the fun bag of toys hidden away in the closet. By the end, you’d completely forgotten about his earlier secrecy.

But you now realize that you should have put some clues together. Because it’s a couple of weeks later, and Harry just surprised you with a prototype of the newest Pleasing product.

A sex toy. Specifically a vibrator. More specifically, a double ended vibrator.

“Finally giving the people what they expected, huh?” You quip as you begin to look at it.

“I mean, we all knew this would happen eventually,” he replies.

“Yea, a former boy band member turned solo pop sensation was bound to release a sex toy sooner or later. It’s the logical progression.”

“Hey, if Gwyneth Paltrow can release these things so can I,” he defends.

“Oh of course. But I have to admit, her brand name really pulls the customers in.”

“Goop? You think Goop is more attractive to consumers than Pleasing?"

You can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the current conversation. Finally you both pull yourselves together again and Harry hands you the prototype.

“Judge it harshly, okay? This thing needs to be perfect,” he says.

“You want me to use this? Test this out?” You ask incredulously.

“I mean, you are our product tester. And I can’t exactly test it out myself so I could really use your feedback. More important now than ever,” he explains.

“Ah yes, the pleasure of your fans is now in my hands,” you joke.

“Literally,” he replies, smirking and pointing at the vibe.

“Are we doing this right now?”

He gives you a suggestive look but then says, "Only if you want to. Don’t feel pressured.”

It’s that, the fact that his top priority is your comfort, that has you wanting to help him.

“I want to,” you reply.

He smiles and leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He soon deepens it, his arms going to your waist to pull you flush against him. In doing so the box gets squished between you, reminding you both the true objective here.

“Let’s go get comfy,” he says, taking your hand and leading you to the bedroom.

You climb into your bed, laying back against the pillows. Harry lays on top of you, kissing along your neck, his hand teasing your thigh, slipping below the hem of your shorts.

He’s effectively warming you up. Getting you ready.

Soon you’re eager to test the new product, and you pick it up from where you’d left it on the bed. Getting the hint, Harry moves to help you slip out of your shorts.

“You’re excited huh?” He teases when he sees the unmistakable damp spot on your underwear.

“Let’s see what that can do,” you invite.

“It’s double sided,” he says.

“You thought of everything,” you reply.

“Ready?”

“Mhmm.”

He presses a button and you hear a telltale buzz. It’s a bit loud, and you make a mental note to ask him if that can be fixed.

And then it presses to your core. It’s nice. But not the best you’ve had. He presses the button a few more times, showing you the four different modes. The first two are okay. The third is better, and gets you close. The fourth is almost a little too much, and you know it would overstimulate you if you used it too long.

After giving you time to test out all of the modes, he switches back to the one you liked best. Now it’s no longer about product testing, it’s about getting you off. He leans in to meet your mouth in a messy kiss and uses the vibe the way he knows you’ll like. Soon, you’re falling apart, panting and moaning, your nails digging into Harry’s skin.

You catch your breath, and after a few minutes Harry says, “So, what did you think?”

“Well, I really liked that one setting,” you reply with a smile.

“What else?”

So you explain your thoughts, what you liked and what you would change if you could. He takes out his phone and writes down notes, promising to work on fixing the problems.

A few weeks later, Harry comes home with another version of the product. As always, the two of you test it out together. This is better than the first, and you even get to test the other end. Which ends up needing some adjusting. You once again give Harry your feedback, and he listens intently.

The pattern continues, two more versions are tried, and each time you enjoy it more and more.

Finally, he comes home one evening, a large grin on his face and a bag in his hands.

“It’s ready,” he says, causing you to look at him in confusion. That feeling only lasts a moment because a second later he pulls out a box. And right away you know what’s inside.

You excitedly open it, and gasp saying, “I love the color!”

“I know,” he replies, his voice smug. There had been many colors brought up, and you’d really loved the pink and burgundy combination. It’s another choice by Harry that makes you feel special. Like your opinion is what really matters to him.

“Wanna try?” He asks suggestively.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice coming out breathless. You lean in to kiss him, and unlike the fire and lust Harry was expecting, this kiss is full of love and admiration. When you pull back you say, “Thank you, for including me, for listening to me. You don’t have to do that, but it makes me feel like I matter.”

“Of course you matter baby! I could never do this without you. Your support and your feedback with this, with music, with everything, it means more to me than you could ever know.”

You kiss him again, and the two of you stand in the room making out. Things grow heated, and Harry leads you upstairs, making sure the box is still in your hand.

As always, the foreplay is amazing. Harry is attentive, worshipping your body. And then comes the toy. He turns on the top part and brings it down to your core, teasingly running it everywhere but where you need it the most. Finally, he places it against your clit, and your entire body arches off the bed at the jolt of pleasure it brings. He slowly works you up, and soon you’re coming, stars dancing in your vision and moans spilling out of your mouth.

He doesn’t pull away, but instead turns the toy up another notch. As he does that, he begins sliding his fingers inside of you, simultaneously adding to the pleasure while also opening you up. Just minutes later you’re tipping over that edge again, your nails digging into Harry’s arm as waves of your orgasm roll through you. He turns the toy off and pulls it away.

“Good?” he asks.

“Amazing,” you reply.

“Ready for another round?”

“Too sensitive,” you answer. You want more, but both you and Harry know that your clit gets over sensitive after a couple of orgasms.

“Well, I was thinking we use the other end,” he informs you.

Your head pops up to look at him, smiles spreading across both your faces. Because that puts you back in the game. You nod, and Harry brings the other end to your entrance.

“You sure?” He asks.

“Yes, please, want it!”

Harry slides the tip inside, watching your reactions, happy to see the way your eyes roll is pleasure. He pushes more inside, and can tell by your moan the exact second he finds the right place. Knowing the bulbed end is nestled against your g-spot, he turns on the vibration.

“Fuck!” You explain as your back once again arches off the bed. Harry places a hand on your lower stomach to press you back onto the bed, and the added weight makes it even more intense.

He can’t wait any longer, and turns the other end on as well, lining himself up to get some much needed friction on his now weeping cock. He thrusts gently, and his hips against the toy push it in and out of you, giving you the friction needed as well.

The angle adjusts slightly, and your orgasm hits you suddenly. You shout out, and your hips move instinctively to chase the pleasure. After you come down, you gently push Harry’s hand, letting him know to slide out.

He does, and his one hand moves to grip his shaft, quickly moving up and down to chase his own orgasm. His other hand holds the vibe to the crown, and you sit up to take it from him, holding it just right to help him reach his peak. When he comes, it’s with a series of quiet moans, and his cum landing in the wet spot you’d already created.

You turn the toy off, and the only sound in the room is the labored breathing from both of you. Harry pulls you into him, and you readjust to lay together, away from the wet spot.

“So, think people will like it?” He eventually asks, causing you to laugh.

“Oh for sure. It’ll sell out in minutes,” you reply.

The two of you then head to the bathroom to clean up, and Harry meticulously washes the toy, just as he always does. And when this new box joins the others in the closet, you know it will be taken out and used quite frequently.

Afterall, how many people have boyfriends who custom design a sex toy with their girlfriends in mind?

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

AN: thanks for reading, hope you all have a lovely week!

[ruggiesears]

daiggie triplets design! —⁠☆

Personalities.

Maggie, Basil and Eddie are the children of Daisy (my Yuu/MC) and Ruggie Bucchi!

Maggie Bucchi: a clever girl with a heart of gold. Even if she's part of a trio of twins and there's not really an "older sibling", Maggie is often taking the role of the "big sister" - she's dependable and loyal to her family to a ferocious degree and her siblings often come to her when they need help. She has a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue, not scared to call out others when needed. Although she has this tough and sarcastic personality, Maggie can also be quite sweet to those she loves, showing her care and love through actions to those who she deems dear to her. Basil Bucchi: "Baz", as his family calls him, is a hot-headed and impatient guy. He's always fighting with Eddie over the smallest things, but it's just his way of showing affection. Although he acts before thinking most of the time, and is the least book smart of his siblings, he cares about others quite a lot – call it the influence of his mother. He complains a lot, but he almost always help people who need him (if he's sure they can be trusted). Still... He can be quite whiny when things don't go his way. Eddie Bucchi: contrary to popular belief, Eddie is not mute. He does speak, but he doesn't want to most of the time, often using actions to show what he means. Eddie is the sweetest of the trio and the most influenced by his mother's kind nature - often acting similar to her... But at the same time, he can be quite scary when pissed off or irritated, his usual positive and funny laugh will turn almost haunting. He carries gentleness and a positive atitude that make him approachable and fun to be around, just don't talk badly of his flower and plant collection, and especially not his family.

Basic info. (template by @/yuushrimpy on Twitter/X)

Random facts:

Maggie, Basil and Eddie were inspired (respectively) by Shenzi, Banzai and Ed from The Lion King 🙂‍↕️ I also used the mice from Cinderella (in general, not any specific mouse) as inspiration for some of their personalities and hobbies!

Eddie's hoodie was something his great grandma got him at a thrift store when they were hanging out together and he loves it so much he's always wearing it!

Maggie HATES being in Pomefiore and she desperately wanted to change to Savanaclaw, but it grew on her through time - her being in Pomefiore is a nod to the fact that her mother, Daisy, would've been sorted there if she had any magic.

I do not have any of their Unique Magics decided, one day if I ever decide it I'll put them here!

Additional references.

(Eddie's hoodie print)

[haikyu-mp4]

Oblivious – Komori x reader wc 1110 – gn!reader, storyteller!Sakusa

Komori might not have noticed your crush on him at first, but his cousin sure did.

Sakusa didn’t talk much, at least not at school, so whenever Komori would ramble at lunch while you listened with hearts practically bursting from your eyes, it was hard for Sakusa to ignore. He would look between the two of you slowly, realising that neither of you would have minded if he weren’t there.

Not that he minded much; he just grew tired of watching his cousin be so oblivious.

“Do you think y/n will come watch?” Komori asked Sakusa cheerily as they stretched before the first game of the day. Nationals didn’t seem as big and scary as it had the year before.

Sakusa fixed him with a deadpan stare, finding the question so incredibly stupid. “Obviously.”

“Heh,” Komori huffed a sheepish laugh. “It can’t be fun to watch all our games without being interested in the sport.”

“Not watching the game,” Sakusa mumbled, switching to twisting his torso the other way. “Y/n probably doesn’t even know who our setter is.”

“Why’s that?” Komori quirked up. “Because he’s a third-year?”

Once again, Sakusa stared at him despite the uncomfortable strain it put on his neck. A breath of air sharply passed his lips, jaw dropping in absolute disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Let’s go!” Iizuna yelled and clapped his hands to get them going, interrupting before Sakusa could figuratively smack some sense into Komori.

“You did great!” you yelled, running over to Sakusa and Komori and pulling them into one big hug, even though there were clear protests from Sakusa. Komori chuckling softly beside him and pulling you closer made Sakusa give in, though, grumbling something about third wheeling.

“Thanks! It’s a good thing Kiyo reached that last one in time, I really sent it flying,” Komori admitted as you pulled away from the hug.

You diverted your eyes to Sakusa and hummed. “Right, such a good save!”

“Thanks.”

As the team started dispersing, you and Komori naturally walked off on your own. Just like usual, Komori talked your ears off while you happily listened, always nodding and responding at exactly the right times.

Sakusa squinted and stood perfectly still while watching you leave, wondering if either of you might notice he wasn’t with you. It was childish, like some attention-seeking tween wondering if their friends actually cared. Maybe part of him worried a little that-

“What’re you looking at?” Sakusa nearly jumped out of his skin as their captain whispered from over his shoulder, chuckling at the reaction he got out of the ace. “Sorry, champ.”

He just grumbled and crossed his arms, glancing between his neon shoes and his best friends. “It’s complicated.”

In his third and last year at the All Japan training camp, Sakusa spent an evening talking to Atsumu about how you and Komori kept tiptoeing around the obvious, and the blonde looked way too amused for Sakusa’s taste. “Wait, wait. I’m confused, are you jealous of them or do you want them to get together?”

With a frown and a huff, the dark-haired boy looked away. “By now, it feels like they’re both sorry for me being lonely if they get together. If they could just get together, they’ll see I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

“Yer so weird, Omi. Sounds like yer a little worried they’ll leave you behind, to me.”

“Stop saying stupid shit, Miya.”

“This might be my last straw,” Sakusa breathed out, mostly to himself.

You and Komori stood arm to arm with wide, sheepish grins, looking at Sakusa like two children telling their parents they broke a vase. The three of you were on the last stretch of your third year, all set to go to the same university after summer, before the boys would pursue their careers in volleyball.

“You,” Sakusa pointed at you. “Asked him on a date.”

The two of you nodded in sync, and Komori leaned his head slightly towards you.

Sakusa then pointed at Komori. “And you said yes.”

Once again, you nodded in perfect synchronisation.

“And yet, you’re asking me to come with you. On the date.”

“You don’t want to?” you asked with a slight pout, not seeing the problem.

“It’s a date.”

“It’s not our first date.” Sakusa’s eyes widened, even though he tried to restrain his reaction. “We’ve kind of known we liked each other for a while,” Komori admitted. Sakusa thought back on the last few months, but couldn’t think of a particular moment where things changed. “It started, like, last summer,” Komori continued, looking at you for a nod of confirmation.

“Were you… Hiding it from me?”

With a kind smile, you reached up and smoothed out the wrinkle between his eyebrows. “Totally, it had nothing to do with you being so oblivious,” you joked, but it seemed like Sakusa didn’t find it so funny. “This wagon has three wheels, whether you like it or not. Or until you get a partner, then we can upgrade it to a proper carriage.”

“I might have… thought you were ignoring your feelings because you didn’t want me to feel left out.”

“You will be left out of the relationship,” Komori said with a sigh, making Sakusa swat him in annoyance at the joke. “Doesn’t mean we stop being best friends. Well, and cousins.”

“That’s-” Your heart swelled at the small smile on Sakusa’s face, and how his shoulders lowered just a tad. “That’s good.”

“Although we have been making out behind your back.”

“Disgusting.”

“You can imagine how difficult my teenage years were,” Sakusa said into the microphone with the most serious voice, and yet it prompted a wave of soft laughter through the wedding venue. “But I must admit, I would do anything if it meant my two best friends got to end up together.”

With glossy eyes, you smiled thankfully and grabbed your husband's hand. Komori sniffled, holding back the feels as he yelled “You’re so dramatic!” at his cousin.

“I thought they were completely oblivious, turns out I was the oblivious one.”

Everyone noticed that Sakusa might have had one glass too many at this point, as he smiled much too widely compared to his usual flatline.

“It warms my heart to see you two happy together. Thank you for sticking around and hiding your make-outs from me.”

And with that, Komori sealed the deal on Sakusa’s speech by pulling you into a breathtaking smooch, enjoying how everyone cheered, clapped and laughed.

The speech was recorded and put onto a CD for you to keep in the wedding album.

Sakusa’s guide to pouting about it until it solves itself.

masterlist

requested by @kinz-z for don't forget me<3

[chilling-seavey]

I looove finding long George fics!!!! Sign me UP!

UGH the intro paragraph 🥺🥺 Already getting me right in the heart

“At 27, he's the same age as you, but while you're a mess of tears and worry, he looks immaculate in his race suit, the top half tied around his waist.” A gorgeous visual

“"Kimi mentioned you seemed upset. He's worried about you too, kept asking if anyone had seen where his 'Team Mom' disappeared to."” CUTE

“You can't help but laugh through your remaining tears. "She'd love that. She's already telling everyone at school that she knows George Russell."” SWEET

I love the little social media breaks! That’s super fun. And these actually feel realistic!!

“"George!" Amelia squeals, pressing her face closer to the camera. "I drew you! You're really tall in my picture!"” IM SQUEALING SHES SO CUTE

“"Now, how about you tell me more about this artwork where I'm apparently a giant? Should I be concerned about how I'm being portrayed to the next generation?"” LOLLL

George playfully saying he’s going to test her maths…would he even be able to keep up with Amelia? LOL

“Should I start calling him team dad” LMFAJENRG dkm

UGH I love how gentle and easy George is with her :’)

“"I've seen how she talks about you, her mummy who makes the silver cars go fast.”” STOP ILL CRYYY :’)

“She says her favorites are the silver arrow boys, but the papaya ones are also cool” Amelia is me on the lowkey

“"Sophie says her dad doesn't even remember to call when he goes on business trips."” OOF sorry sophie </3 get rekked

“Amelia just did a better launch off the couch than any F1 car” HAHAHA

Amelia has my HEART omg shes so excited

“he's nervous too” 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Melia being a little math wizz UGH we love a girlboss

“"She helps me count my pocket money and everything. And she knows exactly how many sleeps until every race."” CRYINGGG

She’s so obsessed with him I love it sm 😭

“"And he makes you smile the pretty smile."” IM GONNA CRYYYY

“She’s just like you - brilliant and beautiful” STOPPPP OH MY GAWD I NEED A SECOND

“"Quali strategy," Kimi mouths behind George's back, making kissy faces. You resist the urge to throw your pen at him.” I snorted out loud

Amelia and Kimi being besties omg their energy is so perf

“"Kimi showed me his room! And all my drawings are on the wall! And he has a special chair that spins around and around and-"” IM OBSESSED WITH HERRR I LOVE HER

The notes in the notebook stopppp 😭😭😭😭

“"The red car is being silly, Mummy make them move!"” HAHAHAJSFBWEHG

“the smile on George's face when he hugged you and Amelia after the race could probably light up London after dark.” :’))))

George’s silverstone post and caption AHHH obsessed. Did I mention I love girl boss amelia?? Because I do

“lando: mate she really wrote "george needs to drive more zoomy" in her notebook i'm crying” LMFAOOO ACTUALLY LAUGHED OUT LOUD

“It's well past Amelia's bedtime when you unlock your front door, cheeks still flushed from the perfect evening, and the goodnight kiss that made you feel like a teenager again.” I SCREAMED OMG WHERE CAN I SIGN UP

“"Because I think we should keep him,"” yess!!!

The little sneak away to the kitchen to kiss eheheheheh im giggling kicking my feet no one look at me

“"Mummy? George? What are you doing?" || "We were just..." you start, face burning. || "Were you kissing?" she asks directly, making you both flush deeper.” LNWGKWJRNW

Stop it right now I’m tearing up over him carrying her to bed and getting her changed and tucking her in and telling her the story of magical Monaco why are you doing this to me 😭😭

Uh oh…

Uh oh x2 her cold text replies…

The grownup conversation oh gosh here we go

“"And I love her," he insists. "More than I ever thought possible. Do you know what I keep in my wallet? That drawing she did of us, where she put all three of us together and wrote 'my family' at the top. I look at it every day. It's not some game to me."” ohhh shivers

The happy birthday post :’))))

Ugh the vibes of the party aftermath…the come down…the putting her to bed after an exciting day and now its just them…so gorgeous 

“”Let me prove to you that some people stay."” UGHERJGH 

HER BIKEEE IM IN FUCKING TEARS

“"The racing car bed better be amazing," you whisper.” 😩😩😩

Oh my GOD what a beautiful read. The depth of everything just made it all feel so REAL. Thank you, op, for sharing this gorgeous masterpiece with us <3

puzzle pieces - gr63

summary: a new strategist who happens to be a single mom of a five-year-old girl joins the mercedes team for the 2025 season, and george fits in their world like puzzle pieces. wc: 13.3k + social media posts

folkie radio: MY FIRST GEORGE LONG FIC !!! im not that confident about it but i really hope you like it ! let me know all of you thoughts

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

📍Melbourne, Australia

You're huddled in the darkest corner of the Mercedes garage in Melbourne, your silver shirt dampened with tears as you try to muffle your sobs. The Australian Grand Prix weekend has barely begun, but your heart is 16,000 kilometers away in London, where your five-year-old daughter Amelia is fighting a nasty fever. Your mother had called an hour ago - Amelia's temperature wasn't going down, and she kept asking for you between fitful naps.

The garage is a flurry of activity, with mechanics and engineers rushing around to prepare for the first practice session of the 2025 season. You know you should be at your station, going through the setup parameters with Kimi, who you'd worked with during his F2 championship run at Prema last year. The transition from F2 to Mercedes F1 had been smooth, largely because Kimi had practically begged the team to bring you along when they signed him. But right now, you feel like the worst mother in the world for being so far away from your baby girl.

"Hey, are you alright?"

The soft, distinctly British voice makes you jump. You quickly wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, mortified to find George Russell, your other driver, standing there with concern etched across his features. At 27, he's the same age as you, but while you're a mess of tears and worry, he looks immaculate in his race suit, the top half tied around his waist.

"I'm so sorry," you stammer, trying to compose yourself. "I'm being completely unprofessional. I should be with Kimi, going through his-"

"No, no, don't apologize," George interrupts, crouching down beside you. His eyes are kind, and there's genuine worry in his voice. "Kimi mentioned you seemed upset. He's worried about you too, kept asking if anyone had seen where his 'Team Mom' disappeared to."

You manage a weak laugh at that. Kimi had started calling you that in F2, and the nickname had stuck. "I should go find him, he'll be nervous about his first F1 weekend-"

"He's fine," George assures you. "What's wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?"

The kindness in his voice makes fresh tears well up in your eyes. "My daughter," you manage to say. "She's sick back home in London. She's only five, and I've never been away from her for so long, and now she has this fever that won't break, and I just-" Your voice cracks.

"I didn't know you had a little girl," George says softly. "What's her name?"

"Amelia," you reply, a small smile breaking through your tears at the thought of your daughter's bright brown eyes and untameable curls. "She was so excited when I got this job. She made me promise to bring home one of those tiny Mercedes model cars they give out during race weekends."

George smiles warmly. "I'm sure you have an amazing support system back home helping you out with her?"

You bite your lip, looking down at your hands. "It's just me and her, really. And well, my parents help when they can. I'm a single mum."

His expression shifts to one of deeper understanding. "Oh, I didn't know that. That must be really challenging, especially with a job like this."

"It is," you admit, wiping away another stray tear. "Most days I can handle it, you know? We have our routine, and Amelia's such a good girl. The team at Prema was amazing with her too, always making sure we could manage. But being so far away when she needs me..." You trail off, the lump in your throat growing bigger.

"Listen," George says, his voice gentle but firm. "Being a single parent in F1 is incredibly tough. I can't even imagine how you manage it all. But you're here, following your dreams, showing your daughter that anything is possible. That makes you an amazing mum."

You look at him, touched by his understanding. "It's just... I feel like I'm failing at both jobs right now. I should be focused on the race weekend, but all I can think about is Amelia."

"You're not failing at anything," he insists, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "And you know what? I bet Amelia is going to be so proud when she tells all her friends that her mum works for Mercedes F1. Speaking of which, we definitely need to get her one of those model cars. And maybe a signed cap too?"

You can't help but laugh through your remaining tears. "She'd love that. She's already telling everyone at school that she knows George Russell."

He grins, his eyes twinkling. "Well, now she actually does. Come on, let's get you some water, and you can tell me more about this little fan of mine. I've got some time before practice, and I'd love to hear about the girl who's apparently been spreading my fame in London playgrounds."

As you follow him toward the team's hospitality area, you feel a little lighter. Your worry about Amelia hasn't disappeared, but somehow, sharing it with someone who seems to genuinely care has made it a bit more bearable. Sometimes comfort comes from the most unexpected places, even from a Formula 1 driver in the corner of a garage in Melbourne.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli and 987,487 others

f1 NEW ADDITION TO THE SILVER ARROWS!

Mercedes F1 Team welcomes YN as their newest Race Strategy Engineer for the 2025 season! The 27-year-old British engineer joins from Prema Racing, where she spent three years working on race strategy and simulation.

Fun facts about YN: First class honors in Mechanical Engineering from Imperial College London Started her motorsport journey as an intern at Sauber in 2020 She was key to Kimi Antonelli's championship last year (he even calls her "Team Mom") She's a mum to 5-year-old Amelia 👶 Youngest strategy engineer on the current Mercedes team

Welcome to the Silver Arrows family, YN! 💫

view all comments

username1 love seeing more women in F1! and a mum too, that's incredible!

username2 i already stan her so bad

mercedesmagf1 Welcome to the best team on the grid! 🏁

kimi.antonelli THATS MY TEAM MOM!

username3 impressive cv

username4 One of the minds behind Prema's brilliant season last year! Mercedes making smart moves for 2025

username5 Imperial College London grad 🤓 She's definitely got the brains for this!

username6 THIS DIVA

georgerussell63 Welcome to the team! 🌟

liked by georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli and 54,098 others

yourinstagram First race weekend with @/mercedesamgf1 in the books! ✨

Still pinching myself that this is real. What an incredible start to the season: P3 for @/georgerussell63 and P4 for @/kimi.antonelli! Proud to be part of the team that made this result possible.

Special shoutout to everyone in the garage who made this rookie engineer feel so welcome (especially when I was having a bit of a mum meltdown missing my little one 🥺). The Silver Arrows family is real!

And to my little Amelia back home: Mummy's bringing back some very special presents from George and Kimi (aka Baby Driver) Thank you for being such a brave girl this weekend. You're the reason I push myself to achieve these dreams ❤️

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username1 AWE THIS IS SO CUTE

username2 her little girl must be adorable

georgerussell63 Couldn't have done it without you! See you in China (with presents for a certain little fan )

↳ username1 THE WAY HE SAID LITTLE FAN I'M CRYING

↳ username2 George is so sweet omg

mercedesamgf1 Silver Arrows family forever! 🌟

friend1 So proud of you! Amelia was screaming watching the podium 😂

username3 living the dream! you're such an inspiration!

username4 From one racing mum to another - you're crushing it! 💪🏼

username5 the way the entire F1 community is rooting for you

username6 I BET AMELIA CALLS KIMI BABY DRIVER AHH

kimi.antonelli love you team mom

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

📍Shanghai, China

The Shanghai paddock is relatively quiet this early in the morning, and you've found a peaceful corner in the Mercedes hospitality area to have your breakfast while FaceTiming Amelia. She's excitedly showing you her school art project, a rather creative interpretation of a Mercedes F1 car, complete with glitter.

"And look, Mummy! I made George extra tall in the drawing!" she giggles, holding up her artwork where she's drawn a stick figure at least twice the size of the car.

You're in the middle of laughing when a familiar voice comes from behind you. "Did I hear someone say my name?"

Amelia's eyes go wide as George Russell himself appears in the frame, leaning over your shoulder with a warm smile, a coffee in hand.

"George!" Amelia squeals, pressing her face closer to the camera. "I drew you! You're really tall in my picture!"

George laughs, pulling up a chair beside you. "Well, I am quite tall in real life too! How are you feeling now, Amelia? All better?"

"Much better! I got a golden star at school yesterday for my maths!" She beams proudly. "And Sophie believes me now that my mummy knows you because I showed her my signed cap!"

"That's brilliant!" George responds enthusiastically. "You'll have to show me your maths skills sometime."

"Okay, sweetheart," you cut in, noticing the time. "You need to get ready for school now. Be good for Grandma, alright?"

"Okay, Mummy! Bye George! Good luck in the race!"

After you hang up, you can't help but smile at how Amelia has somehow managed to wrap one of Formula 1's top drivers around her little finger without even meeting him in person.

"You know," George says thoughtfully, taking a sip of his coffee, "why don't you bring her to one of the European races?"

You look up from your tea, surprised. "Oh, I... I hadn't really thought about it. I mean, I'd love to, but managing a five-year-old in the paddock while working..."

"Bring her to Silverstone," he suggests. "It's home race, your parents could come too. The team would love to meet her - she's practically our mascot now, the way Toto smiles whenever someone mentions 'George Russell's biggest fan.'"

You laugh, remembering how the team principal had been thoroughly amused by the story of Amelia's reaction to George's message. "She would absolutely lose her mind. She's been begging to see a real race."

"Then it's settled," George says with that characteristic Russell determination. "I'll talk to Toto about getting extra passes for your family. We can set her up in the garage with some headphones, show her the cars up close." He grins. "Plus, I need to see if she's as good at maths as she claims."

"George, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he interrupts gently. "You're part of the team now, and so is Amelia, in her own way. Besides," he adds with a playful smile, "I need to make sure my biggest fan gets the full Mercedes experience, don't I?"

You feel a warm glow in your chest, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, George. Really."

"Don't mention it," he says, standing up. "Now, how about you tell me more about this artwork where I'm apparently a giant? Should I be concerned about how I'm being portrayed to the next generation?"

As you describe Amelia's creative interpretation of the Mercedes team, complete with glitter and impossibly tall drivers, you find yourself looking forward to Silverstone more than ever. The thought of sharing your new world with your daughter, of seeing her eyes light up at the sight of the cars and meeting the team she's heard so much about... maybe George is right. Maybe it's time to bring your two worlds together.

"Oh, and YN?" George adds as he's about to head to the engineering briefing. "Tell Amelia to practice her maths. I'll be testing her when I see her."

You shake your head, laughing. Who would have thought that your daughter would end up with a Formula 1 driver as her personal maths tutor?

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

📍Suzuka, Japan

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 10,985 others

f1updates Spotted: Mercedes driver George Russell grabbing coffee with the team's new strategy engineer YN outside the Suzuka paddock this morning. Could there be a new F1 couple on the horizon?

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username1 omg they look so cute together!! did you see how he's looking at her? 🥺

username2 okayy let's not be weird about this

username3 please chill out they're coworkers grabbing coffee

username4 she's the one who came from prema with kimi right? love seeing her settling in at mercedes!

username5 wait isn't she the single mom everyone was talking about during the melbourne weekend? when george was so sweet about her daughter being sick?

username6 kimi's team mom and george

username7 george russell 🤝 having excellent taste in both coffee and women

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Bahrain paddock is eerily quiet at 1 AM, most of the team having retreated to their hotels hours ago. The gentle hum of your laptop and the occasional click of your mouse are the only sounds in the engineering room as you pore over tomorrow's race simulations for the hundredth time.

"You do know quali ended six hours ago, right?"

You jump slightly at George's voice. He's leaning against the doorframe, changed out of his race suit into casual wear, looking at you with concern.

"Just want to make sure we've covered all the scenarios for tomorrow," you mumble, stifling a yawn. "Your start position gives us a real chance at a win, I just need to-"

"YN," he interrupts softly, walking over to your desk. "It's 1 AM. The simulations will still be here in the morning."

You shake your head, forcing your tired eyes to focus on the screen. "I'm fine. I just need to run through these few more scenarios. Can't afford to miss anything."

George pulls up a chair, sitting beside you. "Can't afford to, or won't allow yourself to?"

Something in his gentle tone makes your carefully constructed walls crack a little. You sit back in your chair, running a hand over your face.

"I just... I need to prove I deserve this position," you say quietly. "I need this job, George. It's not just about the racing anymore. I have to put food on Amelia's table, pay for her school, her clothes, her future." Your voice catches slightly. "I'm all she has."

"What about her father?" George asks carefully, then immediately adds, "Sorry, that's none of my business-"

"No, it's okay," you say, surprising yourself. Maybe it's the late hour, or maybe it's just George's caring presence, but you find yourself wanting to talk. "He left when I told him I was pregnant. Said he wasn't ready to be a father, that it would ruin his career plans." You let out a bitter laugh.

George's expression darkens. "What a-" he catches himself, but you can guess the word he's thinking of.

"Yeah," you agree. "Anyway, he signed away his rights before she was born. Hasn't seen her once in five years. Doesn't pay any support." You fidget with your pen. "So it's just me. Every promotion, every extra hour, every bit of overtime, it all goes to giving her the life she deserves."

"YN," George says softly, placing a gentle hand on your arm. "You're already giving her an amazing life. You're showing her what strength looks like, what dedication looks like. But you can't pour from an empty cup."

Tears prick at your eyes. "I'm just so scared of failing her," you whisper. "Every time I see a bill, or she needs new shoes, or I think about university fees in the future... I can't mess this up, George. I can't let her down."

"Hey, look at me," he says firmly. "You're one of the best engineers I've worked with. Toto wouldn't have hired you if he didn't see that. The team trusts you, I trust you. But working yourself to exhaustion isn't going to help anyone - especially not Amelia."

You wipe away a stray tear. "I just want her to be proud of me."

"She already is," George says with certainty. "I've seen how she talks about you, her mummy who makes the silver cars go fast. But I bet she'd be even prouder knowing her mum takes care of herself too."

You manage a weak laugh. "When did you get so wise?"

"Must be all those post-race press conferences," he grins, then stands up, offering his hand. "Come on. I'm calling you a car, and you're going to get some sleep. That's an order from your driver."

"Oh, pulling rank now, are we?" you tease, but you're already saving your files and shutting down your laptop.

"If that's what it takes to get you to rest, absolutely," he says. As you gather your things, he adds softly, "You know, you're not alone anymore, YN. The team... we look after our own. You and Amelia, you're family now."

Something warm unfurls in your chest at his words. As you walk with him through the quiet paddock, you feel a little lighter, like you've shared some of the weight you've been carrying for so long.

"George?" you say as you reach the paddock exit. "Thank you. For listening, for caring... for everything."

He smiles, that genuine Russell smile that makes his eyes crinkle. "Anytime. Now go get some sleep - we've got a race to win tomorrow. Can't have my strategy engineer falling asleep on the pit wall, can we?"

For the first time in weeks, you fall asleep without worrying about simulations or spreadsheets, George's words echoing in your mind: you're not alone anymore.

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liked by georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli and 67,890 others

yourinstagram Great triple header with a bunch of points for the team ! Super proud of George and Kimi and all the team who makes everything possible. Now it's home time where a certain little girl is waiting for me with hugs and drawings for her favorite drivers 🤍

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username1 WE LOVE YOU YNNN

username2 sometimes i forget that team members have families waiting for them at home and they spend so much time away at races

mercedesamgf1 Proud of our favorite engineer ✨

lando the famous amelia! eager to finally meet her

↳ yourinstagram She says her favorites are the silver arrow boys, but the papaya ones are also cool

username3 amazing job now time to resttt

username4 amelia must love kimi and george i'm crying

username5 you're a super mom! your little girl should be really proud

username6 rest queen you deserve it

kimi.antonelli love you team mom, say hi to my little bestie for me

↳ yourinstagram She says she can't wait to see you, baby driver

georgerussell63 Can't wait for more of Amelia's glittery good luck drawings

↳ yourinstagram She made you extra tall in those again

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You're curled up on your couch in your London flat, finally home after three grueling weeks of racing across different countries. The morning sun filters through your curtains, casting glow over Amelia's curls as she snuggles against you. She hasn't left your side since you got back yesterday, following you around the flat like a tiny shadow, even waiting outside the bathroom door. Now she's nestled into your side, her small hand playing with the sleeve of your jumper, a self-soothing habit she's had since she was a baby when she wants to make sure you're really there.

The TV is playing her favorite morning cartoons, but you can tell she's not really watching. She keeps glancing up at you, as if making sure you haven't disappeared in the last thirty seconds.

"Mummy?" she asks during a commercial break, twisting to look at you. "Does George miss us when we're not at the races?"

You smile at her use of 'us', even though she's never been to a race. "I don't know, sweetheart. Why do you ask?"

"Because you said he asked about me in Japan," she says matter-of-factly. "And he always says hi when you call me from the track." She pauses, then adds, "Sophie says her dad doesn't even remember to call when he goes on business trips."

You pull her closer, pressing a kiss to her head. Sometimes it startles you how perceptive five-year-olds can be. "That's because George is special. And you know what? You'll get to meet him at Silverstone."

"That's so far away," she pouts, crossing her arms. "It's ages and ages away. Does he know I got full marks in maths last week? Mrs. Thompson said my adding up was ex-cell-ent."

Before you can answer, your phone buzzes with a text. Speaking of the devil...

Your heart does a little flip as you read the message.

"Melia?" you say, running a hand through her curls. "How would you like to meet George today?"

The speed at which she sits up is almost concerning. "Really? Really really? Not just on FaceTime?"

"Really really," you confirm. "He wants to get coffee near the park."

Amelia launches herself off the couch, practically vibrating with excitement. "Can I wear my special cap? The one he signed? And my Mercedes shirt? And can I bring my drawings to show him? And-"

"Slow down, love!" you laugh. "Yes to the cap and shirt, and yes, you can bring one drawing. Now go get dressed while I text him back."

Two hours later, you're walking through Hyde Park, Amelia's small hand clutching yours tightly. She's wearing her prized Mercedes cap and has been chattering non-stop since you left home.

"Do you think he's as tall in real life as on TV?" she asks for the third time. "Will he remember that I said his car looked like a rocket ship? Can I show him my times tables? Do you think-"

"Breathe, sweetheart," you remind her gently, amused by her enthusiasm.

You spot him before she does, sitting at an outdoor table of the café. He's dressed casually in jeans and a white t-shirt, sunglasses perched on his head, looking nothing like the fierce competitor you see at races. He's doodling something on a napkin, and the sight makes you smile - he's nervous too.

"George!" Amelia calls out before you can stop her, and his face breaks into a bright smile as he stands up. He really is impossibly tall, you think, especially from a five-year-old's perspective.

"Hello there! You must be the famous Amelia," he says, crouching down to her level. "I've heard so much about you."

Amelia, usually so outgoing, suddenly turns shy, pressing against your leg. "Hi," she says softly, then adds with determination, "I got all my sums right at school. Even the hard ones with carrying over."

George's laugh is warm and genuine. "Did you now? Well, I brought something to test that." He reaches into his bag and pulls out a small notebook and some colored pens. "Thought we could do some racing maths while your mum and I have coffee. What do you say?"

Amelia's eyes light up, and just like that, her shyness vanishes. "Can we do sums about how fast you go? Mummy says you drive at three hundred kilometers per hour sometimes!"

"That's right," George grins. "Should we calculate how long it would take me to drive to the moon at that speed?"

"Don't get her started on space," you warn with a laugh. "We'll be here all day."

Soon, the three of you are settled at the table, Amelia perched on a chair between you and George as he draws race cars and creates simple math problems involving lap times and pit stops. You've ordered coffee for yourself and George, and true to his word, he's gotten Amelia a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.

"Right then," George says, drawing a simple track layout. "If I'm two seconds ahead of Max, and each lap takes one minute and thirty seconds..."

"That's ninety seconds!" Amelia interrupts proudly. "Because sixty plus thirty is ninety!"

"Brilliant!" George exclaims, and Amelia beams. "Now, if we do ten laps..."

You watch them interact, your heart swelling. George is surprisingly good with children, patient and engaging as he turns mathematics into a game about racing. He listens intently to Amelia's stories about school, asks her opinions about different racing tracks ("Abu Dhabi looks like a spaceship!" she declares), and seems genuinely delighted by her quick mind.

"Your daughter is brilliant," George tells you during a moment when Amelia is focused on coloring a particularly detailed Mercedes car. "She's got quite the mind for numbers. Wonder where she gets that from?"

"Like mother, like daughter," you reply, then catch him giving you a soft look that makes your cheeks warm.

"Mummy's really good at numbers," Amelia pipes up, not looking up from her coloring. "She helps me count my pocket money and everything. And she knows exactly how many sleeps until every race."

The afternoon passes quickly, filled with laughter and racing stories. George tells Amelia about his karting days, and she hangs on every word, occasionally interjecting with facts she's learned from watching races with you.

"I started racing when I was about your age," George tells her. "Maybe a bit older."

"Really?" Amelia's eyes go wide. "Mummy, can I do racing?"

You see George trying to hide his smile at your slightly panicked expression. "Maybe we can start with something a bit less dangerous," you suggest. "Like your school sports day?"

"Oh!" Amelia bounces in her seat. "George, I'm going to run in races at school! We have a special day and everything!"

"Is that so?" George leans forward, genuinely interested. "When is this big race?"

"Next Thursday!" she says excitedly. "We get to wear our own clothes instead of school uniform and everything! And Mummy's taking the morning off work to watch." She pauses, then adds hopefully, "Will you come see me race? I'm going to run really fast, like you drive."

"Amelia," you start to say, not wanting her to put George on the spot, but he interrupts.

"Well, I'll have to check my schedule, but I'd love to come see you race," George says seriously. "What events are you doing?"

"The hundred meter dash," Amelia pronounces carefully, clearly proud of remembering the proper term. "And the egg and spoon race. And maybe the three-legged race if Sarah wants to be my partner."

"Those are very important races," George nods solemnly. "Almost as important as the British Grand Prix."

"More important," Amelia declares. "Because Mummy says taking part is what matters, not winning."

You catch George's eye over her head, and he gives you a warm smile that makes your stomach flutter.

As the afternoon light starts to fade, you reluctantly check your watch. "We should probably head home, love. It's nearly dinner time."

"Five more minutes?" Amelia pleads, in the middle of showing George her detailed drawing of what she thinks the Mercedes factory looks like (complete with a rocket launch pad, because according to her, race cars are basically rockets).

"Tell you what," George says, "why don't I walk back through the park with you both? It's such a nice evening."

The walk back is filled with Amelia's chatter as she skips between you and George, occasionally holding both your hands to swing herself forward. She's completely at ease now, telling George about her friend Sophie's hamster and how she wants a pet too.

"Maybe a racing dog?" George suggests with a wink at you.

"George!" Amelia says suddenly, stopping in her tracks. "Will you come to my birthday party? It's not for ages and ages, but Mummy says we can have it in the garden and there might be a bouncy castle!"

"Amelia," you say gently, "George is very busy with racing-"

"When's your birthday?" George asks, ignoring your attempt to give him an out.

"In the summer!" she says proudly. "I'm going to be six!"

"I think I might be able to make it," George muses thoughtfully. "If your mum says it's okay, of course."

You're about to remind them both that summer is months away when you reach your street. As you're saying goodbye, Amelia surprises both you and George by hugging his legs. "Thank you for helping me with maths," she says. "And for making the silver cars go fast with Mummy."

George's expression softens as he hugs her back. "Thank you for being such a great student. Keep practicing those sums, okay? I'll need to test you again at sports day."

Later that night, as you're tucking Amelia into bed, she asks sleepily, "Mummy? I like George. He's nice."

You smile. "Yeah, baby. He is nice."

"He listens when I talk," she continues, fighting to keep her eyes open. "And he makes you smile the pretty smile."

You brush her curls back from her forehead, your heart full. "Get some sleep, love."

"Can we see him again soon?"

"We'll see," you say, kissing her forehead. "Sweet dreams, love."

As you close her door, your phone buzzes with a text.

You lean against the wall, smiling at your phone like a teenager. Something warm and hopeful blooms in your chest, a feeling you haven't allowed yourself to experience in a very long time. The way George was with Amelia today, so patient and kind, so genuinely interested in her thoughts and ideas...

You fall asleep that night thinking about George's smile, Amelia's laughter, and the way your little family of two suddenly feels like it might have room to grow.

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liked by georgerussell63, lando and 72,037 others

yourinstagram Someone special showed up to support our champion🥇 Thank you @/georgerussell63 for being such a good sport (literally) and making a little girl's day!

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username1 THIS IS SO CUTE OMFG

username2 IT WAS REALLY GEORGE

kimi.antonelli my team mom and dad being cute again 😎 tell my bestie i'm proud of her medal!!

mercedesamgf1 Our driver taking his coaching duties very seriously!

charles_leclerc this is adorable! congratulations amelia! 🎉

georgerussell63 Best co-pilot ever! Thanks for letting me join sports day, champ!

username3 GEORGE RUSSELL SHOWING UP TO SPORTS DAY AND DOING THE PARENT RACE?? this man is unreal 😭

username4 the way he's just casually becoming dad of the year?? help??

username5 THIS IS NOT REAL

username6 kimi calling them team mom and dad i can't- this family dynamic is everything

username7 the way the entire paddock is just watching these two co-parent at this point

username8 george showing up to support his engineer's daughter at sports day?? this is literally a romance novel

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You're in the Mercedes garage at Monaco, triple-checking the timing screens when Kimi bounces in, still buzzing with energy despite just finishing FP2. At seventeen, he's the youngest driver on the grid, but his talent is undeniable, having him move up to Mercedes feels like watching your second child succeed.

"There's my favorite strategy engineer!" he announces, dropping into the chair next to you. "Where's my bestie? I thought Amelia was coming to Monaco?"

You laugh, ruffling his hair despite his protests. "Silverstone, kid. That's the plan for her first race."

"But that's so far away," he whines, sounding remarkably like Amelia when she's disappointed. "I need her to draw me a good luck picture too. George keeps showing off the ones she makes him."

At the mention of George's name, you feel your cheeks warm slightly. Kimi notices immediately, his face splitting into a mischievous grin.

"Speaking of George..." he starts, wiggling his eyebrows. "I saw you two in the engineering room yesterday. Looking pretty cozy over those strategy plans."

"We were working," you say firmly, though your blush deepens.

"Sure, sure," Kimi nods sagely. "That's why George gets this dopey smile every time someone mentions your name. Because of work."

"Shouldn't you be in your post-practice debrief?" you deflect, trying to hide your smile.

"Oh, I'm gathering important team information right now," he says cheekily. "Like when George is finally going to ask you out properly instead of pretending he needs to discuss strategy at midnight."

You swat at him with your notebook. "Focus on your driving, kid."

"I am!" he protests. "Now let me focus on my other job, getting my two favorite people together." He pauses thoughtfully. "Well, three favorite people. Amelia's my number one, obviously."

"Of course she is," you roll your eyes fondly. "She asked about you this morning, by the way. Wanted to know if her 'baby driver' was being good."

Kimi beams at the nickname. "Tell her I'm being excellent. Unlike some people who keep pining away instead of-"

"Who's pining away?" George's voice cuts in as he enters the garage, and Kimi's grin turns positively wicked.

"Oh, just talking about-"

"Your tire management," you interrupt quickly, shooting Kimi a warning look. "Which needs work, by the way."

Kimi gives you an exaggerated wink before turning to George. "Hey teammate, YN was just telling me about Amelia's new drawing. The one where she drew you holding the trophy in Monaco?"

George's face lights up. "She drew that? Can I see?"

"It's not finished yet," you say, making a mental note to kill Kimi later. "She wants to add glitter."

"Of course she does," George laughs. "Speaking of Amelia, I found this great book about space and racing. Thought she might like it for her school project. I can bring it by later when we go over the quali strategy?"

"Quali strategy," Kimi mouths behind George's back, making kissy faces. You resist the urge to throw your pen at him.

"That would be nice," you say, trying to maintain professionalism despite Kimi's antics. "Thanks, George."

After George leaves, Kimi leans back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be good with numbers, you're really bad at calculating how totally in love with you he is."

"Don't you have some sim work to do?" you ask, but there's no bite to it.

"Fine, fine," he sighs dramatically, standing up. "But tell Amelia her baby driver misses her and needs more good luck drawings. And tell her that her future dad is doing great in practice-"

"OUT!" you laugh, pushing him toward the door.

"Love you too, Team Mom!" he calls over his shoulder.

As you turn back to your work, you can't help but smile. Between Amelia's enthusiasm, Kimi's teasing, and George's... everything, your life has become wonderfully complicated.

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liked by georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli and 82,478 others

yourinstagram Couldn't be prouder of these two! P1 for George and first ever podium for our baby driver. Special thank you to a certain 5-year-old whose lucky drawings (and very specific corner-by-corner instructions) clearly did the trick! 💫

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username1 COME ONNNN

kimi.antonelli BESTIE YOUR DAUGHTER IS MAGIC!! her rocket drawings made me faster, i have proof 🚀

georgerussell63 The fairy wings definitely gave us extra downforce today! Thanks chief engineer in training!

mercedesamgf1 Proof that rocket drawings = extra speed

alex_albon Need to know more about these magic drawings tbh 👀

username2 okay but can we talk about how george keeps amelia's drawings in his driver room?? proud dad energy??

username3 MY SON'S FIRST PODIUM 😭 and him immediately showing yn's daughter the trophy i'm deceased

username4 not me crying over kimi calling yn "team mom" and showing off his trophy like a kid who got an A+ 🥺

username5 the cutest f1 family doesn't exi-

username6 LIVING for george and yn trying to pretend they're not basically dating and co-parenting at this point

username7 george russell handsome successful f1 driver who keeps a 5 year old's drawings for good luck?? my heart can't take this

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The Silverstone paddock is buzzing with its usual race day energy, but today feels different. Your parents arrived with Amelia an hour ago, and watching your daughter take in the F1 world for the first time is making you see everything through new eyes.

"And this is where all the computers are," you explain, showing her around the garage. She's wearing her special Mercedes outfit, a miniature team kit that appeared mysteriously in your flat last week (you suspect George), complete with her own headset and passes.

"It's like a spaceship!" she whispers in awe, clutching your hand. "Is this where you make George and Kimi go fast?"

Before you can answer, a familiar voice calls out, "BESTIE!"

Amelia whirls around to see Kimi bounding toward her, already in his race suit. "Baby driver!" she squeals, running to hug him.

Kimi scoops her up, spinning her around. "Finally! I've been waiting forever to see you! Your drawings give me good luck, you know."

"Really?" Amelia beams. "I made you a new one for today! Mummy, can I show him?"

You pull the carefully protected drawing from your bag. Kimi and George's cars racing with what appears to be rockets attached to them. Kimi examines it with exaggerated seriousness.

"This is perfect! The rockets are exactly what we need," he declares. "Should we go put it up in my driver room?"

Amelia looks at you questioningly. "Can I go with Kimi, Mummy?"

"Of course, sweetheart. Grandma and Grandpa can go too." You turn to your parents, who are watching the scene with amused smiles. "I need to check some things before the race."

"Come on, bestie," Kimi says, still holding Amelia. "I'll show you where I keep all your other drawings. They're my lucky charms!"

As they head off, Amelia chattering excitedly about her rocket design theories, you hear your mother say to your father, "Did you ever think our granddaughter would have a Formula 1 driver as her best friend?"

You're reviewing last-minute strategy changes when George arrives, looking sharp in his race suit but slightly nervous.

"Is she here?" he asks, peering around the garage.

"Kimi kidnapped her," you laugh. "Something about lucky charm drawings."

George's face falls slightly. "Oh. I, uh, I got her something. For her first race." He pulls out a small package wrapped in silver paper.

"George..." you start, touched by his thoughtfulness.

"GEORGE!" Amelia's voice echoes through the garage as she runs back in, Kimi following with a grin. She launches herself at George, who catches her easily.

"Hello, trouble," he says warmly. "Ready for your first race?"

"Kimi showed me his room! And all my drawings are on the wall! And he has a special chair that spins around and around and-"

"Breathe, love," you remind her, sharing an amused look with George.

"I have something for you," George tells her, setting her down and handing her the package. "Every proper race engineer needs one of these."

Amelia carefully unwraps it to reveal a personalized notebook with "AMELIA - Race Engineer in Training" embossed on the cover, along with the Mercedes logo.

"It's just like Mummy's!" she gasps, running her fingers over the lettering.

"Look inside," George encourages.

She opens it to find the first page filled with messages - one from George, one from Kimi, and to your surprise, messages from Lewis Hamilton, Toto, and the entire engineering team.

"Now you can take notes during the race," George explains. "Study all our moves so you can tell us what we did wrong later."

Amelia hugs the notebook to her chest, then throws her arms around George's neck. "Thank you! I'm going to write down everything! Even when you make mistakes!"

"Especially when he makes mistakes," Kimi adds with a wink.

The pre-race preparations fly by, and before you know it, it's almost time for the drivers to head to the grid. Your parents have taken Amelia to their seats in the garage, where she's already making serious notes in her new notebook.

"Right," Kimi says, giving Amelia a high five. "I've got my lucky drawing, so P1 is basically guaranteed."

"No way," George argues playfully. "My drawing has more glitter. That's worth at least half a second per lap."

As they head out, you hear Amelia ask your mother, "Grandma, why does George look at Mummy the same way Prince Charming looks at Cinderella?"

You feel your face heat up as Kimi bursts out laughing and George nearly trips over his own feet.

The race itself is intense. Through it all, you can hear Amelia's running commentary behind you:

"Mummy told George to go faster and he did!" "The red car is being silly, Mummy make them move!" "Baby driver is catching up!"

And even though the race itself didn't bring good results for the team, the smile on George's face when he hugged you and Amelia after the race could probably light up London after dark.

Hours later, you're packing up your things in the engineering room after a long day of post-Silverstone analysis when George appears in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically nervous. He's changed out of his team gear into casual clothes, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Hey," he says, lingering in the doorway. "Good day?"

"Yeah, just finishing up the race report," you nod, trying not to notice how good he looks in that light blue jumper. "You?"

"Same, all done with media." He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Listen, I was wondering... would you like to get dinner?"

"Oh," you say, checking your watch. "I should probably get home soon. It's Amelia's bedtime and-"

"I meant just you and me," he interrupts softly. "Like... a date."

You freeze in the middle of putting your laptop away, your heart suddenly racing. "Oh," you say again, eloquently.

"I know this great place in Mayfair," he continues quickly, as if afraid you'll say no if he doesn't get all the words out. "And I already talked to your mum, she said she'd love to watch Amelia for the evening. If you want to, that is. No pressure at all, I just thought... well, after everything, and Silverstone was amazing, and you're amazing, and-"

"George," you cut off his rambling with a smile. "Are you asking me on a proper date?"

He runs a hand through his hair, that endearing nervous gesture you've come to love. "Yes. Very badly, apparently."

"You talked to my mum?" you ask, amused and touched.

"Well, yeah," he admits, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "She cornered me after the race actually. Said something about being tired of watching us dance around each other and that she'd happily babysit any time."

You laugh, remembering your mother's knowing looks throughout the race weekend. "Did my five-year-old and my mother conspire to set us up?"

"Don't forget Kimi," George grins. "He's been sending me links to romantic restaurants for weeks. And threatening to tell Amelia all my embarrassing stories if I didn't, and I quote, 'get my act together.'"

"Sounds like we've been thoroughly outmaneuvered," you say, your heart feeling impossibly full.

"So..." George takes a step closer, hope written all over his face. "Is that a yes?"

You pretend to think about it. "Well, since you've already gotten approval from my entire family, including my self-appointed eighteen-year-old son..."

"YN," he groans, but he's smiling.

"Yes," you say softly. "I'd love to have dinner with just you."

His face breaks into that brilliant smile that never fails to make your stomach flip. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He takes another step closer, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "I've been wanting to ask you for ages," he admits. "Since Barcelona, really. Well, since before that if I'm honest."

"What took you so long?" you ask, even though your heart is hammering so hard you can barely hear your own words.

"I wanted to do it right," he says. "Make sure Amelia was okay with it, that you were ready. That I wasn't misreading things." He pauses. "Also, Kimi told me I had to wait until after Silverstone because he had money on me asking you out this week."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Of course he did."

"So," George says, taking your hand. "Tonight? I can pick you up at eight?"

"Seven sounds perfect."

As if on cue, your phone buzzes with a text from your mother:

Mum: Amelia and I are having a girls' night! Don't worry about bedtime, we've got it covered. Have fun on your date! 😘

George peers at your phone and laughs. "I think we've been set up by the most elaborate matchmaking scheme in F1 history."

"Seems like it," you agree, squeezing his hand. "Better make it worth their effort then."

His eyes soften as he looks at you. "I plan to."

As you walk out of the engineering room hand in hand, you can't help but smile at how perfectly everything has fallen into place. Your daughter adores him, your family approves, and even your teenage driver-turned-matchmaker is thrilled.

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liked by yourintagram, lando and 601,287 others

georgerussell63 Not the Silverstone weekend we wanted on track, but having this little engineer-in-training in our garage made everything better. Thanks for the lucky drawings Amelia - we'll get them right next time! P.S. Your detailed notes about my "silly mistake in turn 3" were very professional 😅

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username1 AHH THIS IS THE CUTEST THING EVER I CANT

username2 GEORGE SOFT ERA

kimi.antonelli she told me your mistakes too 😎 bestie keeps it real

lando mate she really wrote "george needs to drive more zoomy" in her notebook i'm crying

mercedesamgf1 Our newest team member giving very thorough feedback! 📝

yourinstagram She's already planning your strategy for Spa. Apparently it involves fairy dust and "extra zoom buttons"

username4 the way george claimed both yn and amelia is just to cute

username5 WE STAN AMELIA

username6 not to sound weird but you can tell that george ADORES both of them

username7 THIS IS MY FAMILY

liked by username1, username2 and 12,095 other

f1gossip BREAKING: Mercedes driver George Russell and chief race engineer YN spotted having dinner together at exclusive Mayfair restaurant. First time the two have been seen together outside of work events. 👀

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username1 HELLO??? THIS IS NOT A DRILL?? look at the way he's looking at her omg

username2 someone write this romance novel immediately

username3 not me zooming in on every detail 👀 THE HAND ON THE TABLE NEARLY TOUCHING HERS I'M SCREAMING

username4 not to be That Person but the way he's always so sweet with her daughter?? and now this?? im crying in the club rn

username5 don't be weird about this

username6 someone check on kimi, bet he's having a proud son moment watching his team parents finally get together

username7 manifesting the cutest f1 family rn 🕯️🕯️🕯️

username8 GEORGE RUSSELL BOYFRIEND ERA STARTS NOW

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It's well past Amelia's bedtime when you unlock your front door, cheeks still flushed from the perfect evening, and the goodnight kiss that made you feel like a teenager again. You expect to find your mother reading on the couch, but instead, you hear small feet padding down the hallway.

"Mummy!" Amelia appears in her pink princess pajamas, clearly having fought off sleep to wait for you. "You're home!"

"Sweetheart, why aren't you in bed?" you ask, though you can't bring yourself to be stern when she looks so excited.

Your mother appears behind her, looking apologetic. "Someone insisted on staying up until you got back. Said she needed to make sure the date went well."

"Did you have nice dinner?" Amelia asks, taking your hand and pulling you to the couch. "Did George tell you funny stories? Did he make you laugh? Sophie says her mummy went on a date and didn't laugh at all and never saw the man again."

You catch your mother trying to hide her smile as she disappears into the kitchen, clearly giving you space for this conversation.

"Yes, we had a lovely dinner," you say, settling onto the couch. Amelia immediately climbs into your lap, her favorite spot for important conversations. "And yes, George made me laugh a lot."

"Good," she says seriously. "Because you have a pretty laugh, Mummy."

Your heart catches at her observation. Sometimes you forget how perceptive she is.

"Did you wear your sparkly dress?" she continues, playing with your necklace - the delicate silver one George had noticed and complimented over dinner.

"I did."

"George likes sparkly things," she nods sagely. "He always says my glitter drawings are his favorite."

You smile, remembering how George had shown you a whole folder on his phone of photos of Amelia's artwork. "He does love your drawings."

"Mummy?" Amelia looks up at you, her expression suddenly serious. "Are you happy?"

"What do you mean, love?"

"When George is around, you smile different," she explains. "Like when we have ice cream on Sunday or when I learn a new word. It's your happy smile." She pauses, thinking hard.

You pull her closer, pressing a kiss to her curls. "You're right. George does make me very happy."

"Good," she declares. "Because he makes me happy too. And he helps me with maths. And he remembers what I like. And he makes baby driver behave." She counts off these qualities on her small fingers.

"Does he now?" you laugh.

"Mhm. Today when you were getting ready, he called to tell me a bedtime story about racing cars while Grandma did my hair. But then I had to promise not to tell you because it was supposed to be a surprise that he called."

Your heart melts at this revelation. You hadn't known about the bedtime story.

"And Mummy?" she continues, fighting back a yawn. "I think George has a happy smile when he sees you too. Like when you wear your sparkly dress or when you tell him he did good racing."

"Did well racing," you correct automatically, making her giggle.

"Did well racing," she repeats. "So can we see him again soon? Maybe for pancakes? He promised to show me how to make them in funny shapes."

"Did he now?"

She nods enthusiastically. "He said he can make race car pancakes! And he said maybe next time we can both come to dinner with him, and he knows a place that has the best chocolate cake ever."

"We'll see," you say, but you're already smiling at the thought. "But right now, little miss, it's way past your bedtime."

"One more question?" she pleads, giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

"One more."

"If George makes us both happy, and we make him happy, and he makes good pancakes..." she thinks carefully about her words, "does that mean he can stay? Properly stay?"

Your throat tightens with emotion. "Oh, sweetheart..."

"Because I think we should keep him," she says matter-of-factly. "He fits good with us. Like my puzzle pieces when they click together right."

"Fits well," you correct softly, blinking back tears.

"Fits well," she agrees, snuggling closer. "So can we keep him? He remembers everything. That's important, Mummy. Mrs. Thompson says remembering things about people you love is very important."

"When did you get so wise?" you ask, hugging her close.

"I learned it from you," she says simply. "And George says I'm smart like my mummy. I think we should definitely keep him."

Looking at your daughter's hopeful face, thinking about the perfect evening and how naturally he fits into your lives, you find yourself agreeing.

"Yeah," you say softly. "I think we should."

"Good," Amelia yawns, finally letting sleep catch up with her. "Because he makes everything better. Like sprinkles on ice cream."

As you carry your sleepy daughter to bed, she mumbles, "Mummy? I'm happy you're happy."

You tuck her in, your heart so full it might burst. "I'm happy you're happy too, love."

"Tell George I said goodnight," she murmurs, already drifting off. "And that he better not forget about the pancakes..."

Looking at your sleeping daughter, thinking about George's words, you realize that sometimes the best families are the ones you build yourself, piece by perfectly fitting piece.

You fall asleep that night with a smile on your face, dreaming of race car pancakes, perfect puzzle pieces, and the way happiness feels when it finally clicks into place.

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The summer heat has turned your London flat into a lazy afternoon paradise. You're in the kitchen preparing cold lemonade while Amelia sits at the counter, tongue stuck out in concentration as she works on her latest masterpiece - a drawing of what she claims is Kimi's car with rocket boosters.

"Mummy, do you think baby driver will like the purple rockets?" she asks, reaching for another crayon.

"I think he'll love them," you assure her, just as there's a knock at the door.

"I'll get it!" Amelia scrambles off her stool before you can stop her.

"Amelia, wait-" but she's already running to the door.

"Who is it?" she calls out, following your safety rules.

"It's George!" comes the familiar voice, and Amelia beams at you.

"Can I open it, Mummy? Please?"

You nod, and she throws the door open to reveal George standing there in casual clothes, looking unfairly handsome in a simple white t-shirt and jeans.

"George!" Amelia launches herself at him, and he catches her with practiced ease. "Are you here to see my new drawings? I made one for baby driver with rockets!"

"Of course I am," he grins, carrying her inside. His eyes meet yours over her head, soft and warm. "Hi."

"Hi," you reply, trying to control your smile. "This is a surprise."

"Good surprise?" he asks, setting Amelia down.

"Look!" Amelia interrupts, grabbing his hand and pulling him to her artwork. "See? Purple rockets!"

"Very aerodynamic," George nods seriously, examining the drawing. "Though I think the Mercedes might need some rockets too, don't you?"

While Amelia launches into an elaborate explanation of her rocket distribution strategy, George catches your eye again, mouthing 'kitchen?' with a raised eyebrow.

"I'll get you some lemonade," you say, heading to the kitchen. Moments later, you hear him tell Amelia he'll be right back to help her with the Mercedes rockets.

As soon as he enters the kitchen, he's in your space, hands settling on your waist. "Hi," he says again, softer this time.

"You said that already," you tease, even as your heart races.

"Didn't get to say it properly though," he murmurs, leaning down. "Been thinking about doing this all week..."

His lips meet yours in a gentle kiss that makes your knees weak. You wind your arms around his neck, melting into it as he pulls you closer-

"Mummy? George? What are you doing?"

You jump apart like teenagers caught by their parents. Amelia stands in the doorway, head tilted in confusion, her purple crayon forgotten in her hand.

"We were just..." you start, face burning.

"Were you kissing?" she asks directly, making you both flush deeper.

"Um," George runs a hand through his hair nervously. "Yes?"

Amelia considers this for a moment. "Oh. Like in the princess movies?"

"Something like that," you manage, wondering how to handle this situation.

"Okay," she says simply. Then, "Can I have more lemonade?"

You blink at the sudden change of subject. "Of course, love."

As you pour her drink, she looks between you and George thoughtfully. "Does this mean George is your boyfriend now?"

George makes a choking sound beside you, and you nearly spill the lemonade.

"Well..." you look at George, who seems equally unsure how to answer.

"Because Sophie from school says when people kiss they're boyfriend and girlfriend," Amelia continues matter-of-factly. "And you smile a lot when George is here. And he brings me drawings from baby driver. And he remembers I like the blue cup not the red one."

She says all this while George hands her the correct blue cup, proving her point.

"Would that be okay?" George asks carefully. "If I was your mummy's boyfriend?"

Amelia takes a long sip of lemonade, clearly thinking it over. "Will you still help me with my drawings?"

"Of course."

"And tell me racing stories?"

"Absolutely."

"And you won't make Mummy sad?"

Your heart clenches at that, and you see George swallow hard.

"I promise," he says softly, "I will try my very best to only make your mummy smile."

Amelia nods, apparently satisfied. "Okay then. Can we do the rockets for your car now?"

"Lead the way, boss," George says, shooting you a relieved smile.

As Amelia skips back to her drawings, George quickly squeezes your hand. "That went better than expected?"

"Yeah," you breathe out. "Though we might want to be more careful with the kitchen kisses."

He grins, brushing his thumb across your knuckles. "Noted. Though I can't promise I won't want to kiss you every time I see you."

"George!" Amelia calls. "The rockets won't draw themselves!"

"Coming!" he calls back, then quickly steals one more kiss. "For the road."

You watch him join Amelia at the counter, the way he listens intently to her explanation of rocket physics (mostly gathered from cartoons), and feel your heart swell. It's early days still, but watching them together, you can't help but hope this is just the beginning of something wonderful.

"Mummy!" Amelia waves you over. "George says we need strategy for the rockets. That's your job!"

"Can't argue with that," you laugh, joining them at the counter.

As evening settles in, you find George and Amelia sprawled on the living room floor, surrounded by LEGO pieces. The instructions for her new F1 car set lie forgotten as George helps her create what appears to be a highly modified version.

"See, if we put this piece here," George explains, "it makes the perfect spot for your rocket boosters."

"Can we make the wheels rainbow colored?" Amelia asks through a yawn.

"Of course we- did you just yawn?" George teases, poking her side gently.

"No," she protests, even as another yawn escapes. "M'not tired."

"Really?" you ask from your spot on the couch. "Because it looks like someone's about to fall asleep in her LEGOs."

"But George hasn't finished helping me," she whines softly, rubbing her eyes.

George catches your eye, silently asking permission. At your nod, he says, "How about I help you get ready for bed, and tomorrow you can finish the car?"

Amelia perks up slightly. "Promise you'll come back tomorrow?"

"Actually, sweetheart," he says carefully, "I have to go to Monaco for a few days. But I'll be back for your birthday next week."

Her lower lip trembles slightly. "You won't miss my party?"

"Miss your sixth birthday party? No way," he assures her. "I've already got your present picked out and everything."

"Really?" she asks sleepily.

"Really. Now, bedtime?"

She holds up her arms. "Will you carry me like when I fell asleep at the factory?"

George scoops her up easily, and your heart melts as she immediately snuggles into his shoulder. "Story?" she mumbles.

"One story," you say, following them to her room.

You watch from the doorway as George helps her into her pajamas and tucks her in, making sure her favorite stuffed car is properly positioned.

"Can you tell me about Monaco?" she asks as he sits on the edge of her bed. "Since that's where you're going?"

"Well," he starts, smoothing her hair back, "Monaco is like a magical kingdom by the sea. The buildings are all white and shiny, and the race track goes right through the city..."

You listen as he weaves a story about princesses who race cars and dolphins who watch from the harbor. By the time he's describing the tunnel section, Amelia's eyes are fluttering closed.

"G'night George," she mumbles. "Love you."

George's hand stills in her hair for a moment, and you see the emotion cross his face. "Goodnight, princess," he whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Sweet dreams."

He joins you in the doorway, both of you watching as she snuggles deeper into her blankets.

"You okay?" you ask softly, noting his expression.

He nods, leading you back to the living room. Once you're out of earshot, he pulls you close, burying his face in your hair.

"She said she loves me," he murmurs.

"She does," you confirm, wrapping your arms around him. "You've become very important to her."

He pulls back enough to look at you, his eyes intense. "You know you both are important to me too, right? I know we haven't been dating long, but..."

"I know," you assure him, reaching up to touch his cheek. "We know."

He leans into your touch. "I hate that I have to go to Monaco."

"It's only for a few days," you remind him. "And it's part of the job."

"Yeah," he sighs, pulling you toward the couch. You curl into his side automatically. "I just... I'll miss this. Miss you both."

"We'll miss you too," you admit. "But you'll be back for the party. Speaking of which, what exactly have you got planned? Amelia's been trying to guess all week."

His face lights up. "Ah, that's classified information. But I think she'll love it."

"George..."

"Don't worry," he laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Nothing too extravagant. Well, maybe a little extravagant. But she's only turning six once!"

You shake your head fondly. "You're going to spoil her rotten."

"That's my job, isn't it?" he asks, then seems to catch himself. "I mean, not my job, but... you know what I mean."

"I do," you say softly, understanding the weight of what he's not saying. It's early days still, but you both know this is heading somewhere serious.

He pulls you closer, and you sit in comfortable silence for a while, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm.

"When do you leave?" you ask eventually.

"Early tomorrow," he sighs. "Need to be there for some sponsorship events."

"Then we should probably clean up these LEGOs before someone steps on one in the morning."

He groans dramatically but helps you up. As you both kneel to collect the scattered pieces, he keeps stealing glances at you.

"What?" you ask after the third time you catch him looking.

"Nothing," he smiles. "Just... thank you."

"For what?"

"For letting me be part of this," he gestures around the flat, at Amelia's drawings on the fridge, the LEGOs, the life you've built. "For trusting me with her. With both of you."

Your heart swells. "Thank you for wanting to be part of it."

He reaches for you then, LEGOs forgotten as he pulls you into a soft kiss. It's different from the heated kitchen kiss earlier - slower, deeper, full of everything neither of you are quite ready to say out loud.

When you break apart, he rests his forehead against yours. "I should go," he whispers. "Early flight."

"Okay," you murmur, stealing one more kiss.

At the door, he turns back. "Tell Amelia I'll FaceTime her from Monaco? And maybe..." he hesitates, "maybe we could FaceTime too? After she's in bed?"

"I'd like that," you smile.

"And you'll text me if you need anything? Or if she does?"

"George," you laugh softly, "it's three days."

"I know, I know," he runs a hand through his hair. "I just... I got used to seeing you both every day. This is different."

"We'll be fine," you assure him. "Just come back in time for the party. Can't disappoint your biggest fan."

His expression softens. "Never." He kisses you one last time, gentle and sweet. "Sweet dreams, beautiful."

Later, checking on Amelia before bed, you find she's kicked off her blankets as usual. As you tuck her back in, she stirs slightly.

"Mummy?" she mumbles. "Is George gone?"

"Yes, love. But he'll be back soon."

"Good," she sighs, already drifting back to sleep. "He gives good hugs. And he makes you smile the proper way."

Looking at your sleeping daughter, thinking of George's gentle ways with her, his careful consideration of her feelings, the way he's slotted so perfectly into your lives, you can't help but smile "the proper way."

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liked by username1, username2 and 17,984 others

f1gossip George Russell pulled up to a Mercedes event in Monaco… and brought a model with him 👀

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username1 OHHHHH

username2 what about yn...

username3 THEY LOOK SO GOOD

username4 george single era is coming

username5 this is why i told y'all not to be weair about him and he merc strategist

username6 NOOO HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE WITH YN

username7 yn and amelia are literally right there

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The flat feels quiet without Amelia's laughter echoing through it. Your mother had taken her for a girls afternoon, and you stayed back home doing some chores. A certain British driver's smile coming to your mind as you move through the house.

You're curled up on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when they appear, photos that make your heart stop. George at some glamorous Monaco event, looking devastatingly handsome in his tailored suit. But it's not his appearance that makes your stomach churn, it's the stunning model on his arm.

They look perfect together - like something out of a magazine spread. The kind of couple that belongs at these events.

Your phone rings, making you snap out of it. Kimi's name appearing on screen. For a moment, you consider letting it go to voicemail, but he'd only keep calling.

"Hey," you answer, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Finally," he grumbles. "Been trying to figure out what to get the little monster for her birthday. Does she still like those unicorn games?"

"Yeah, she does."

"That's enthusiastic," he says sarcastically. "What about- hang on. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Don't bullshit me, YN. I've known you too long. You're my team mum."

You sink deeper into the couch, pulling a throw pillow to your chest. "I'm fine."

"You sound like when George beat you at Mario Kart and you pretended it didn't bother you for two weeks."

"That was different," you protest weakly. "He cheated."

"Stop deflecting. What happened?"

You're quiet for a long moment, then, "Have you checked social media today?"

There's rustling, then typing. A long pause. "Ah, fuck."

"Yeah."

"YN..."

"Don't," you cut him off, voice thick. "Don't try to explain it away. I get it. She's gorgeous and sophisticated and probably knows all about sponsorship events and doesn't have a complicated life with a six-year-old and-"

"Stop," Kimi interrupts firmly. "First, you're spiraling. Second, you know these events are bullshit. Remember when they tried to set me up with that Instagram model?"

"This is different."

"How?"

"They look..." you swallow hard, "right together. Like they fit. Like they make sense."

"And you and George don't make sense?" Kimi asks skeptically. "Because from where I'm standing, you fit better than most things in this ridiculous sport. Like Amelia says, puzzle pieces."

"I thought..." your voice cracks. "I really thought maybe this time would be different. That maybe..."

"Have you talked to him?"

"No."

"YN..."

"I can't," you whisper, tears finally falling. "I can't hear him say that this was fun but he's found someone more suitable or-"

"Now you're being stupid," Kimi cuts in. "George isn't like that. You know he's not."

"Do I? Because I thought Amelia's father wasn't like that either, and look how that turned out."

There's a long pause. When Kimi speaks again, his voice is gentler. "George isn't him. You know that."

"I can't risk it," you say softly. "I can't risk Amelia getting hurt. I can't have her wait by the window, hoping he'd come back."

"And that's exactly why you should talk to George," Kimi insists. "Because he's not the kind of man who makes little girls wait by windows."

"But what if he is?" Your voice is barely audible. "What if I let her love him and then..."

"Then you'll deal with it. But you can't protect her from everything, YN. And maybe you're protecting her from something beautiful."

You wipe your eyes. "When did you get so wise? Why am I taking advice from my 18-year-old work son."

"I've always been wise. You just never listen." His tone turns serious again. "Have you checked your phone? Has he tried to contact you?"

You glance at your notifications - nothing from George. The realization makes your chest ache. "No."

"Give it time. There's probably an explanation."

"Yeah," you say hollowly. "The explanation is probably five-foot-ten with perfect hair and no emotional baggage."

"YN..."

"I should go," you cut in. "Amelia will be home soon and I can't... I can't let her see me like this."

"You don't have to handle everything alone, you know."

"Yes, I do," you say quietly. "That's what being a single mother means."

Before he can respond, you hear keys in the door. "They're back. I have to go."

"YN, wait-"

You hang up just as Amelia bursts in, already talking excitedly about her day with grandma.

"And then we saw the biggest dog ever and- Mummy?" she stops suddenly, looking at you with those too-perceptive eyes. "Are you sad?"

"No, love," you force a smile, quickly wiping your face. "Just tired."

She climbs onto the couch next to you, her small hand reaching up to touch your cheek where a tear had fallen. "You look sad though."

Your heart clenches. This is exactly what you were afraid of - her picking up on your pain, carrying it. You won't do that to her.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," you say, pulling her close. "Tell me more about your day with grandma."

"Well..." she starts, but then pauses. "When is George coming back? He promised to help me finish my LEGO car."

The innocent question feels like a knife to your heart. "He's very busy with work right now, love."

"But he'll be back for my party, right? He promised."

You hold her tighter, breathing in her familiar sweet scent, trying to find the right words that won't hurt her. "Sometimes... sometimes grown-ups have to change their plans."

"Oh," she says quietly, and you can hear the beginning of disappointment in her voice. It makes you want to cry all over again.

Looking down at Amelia, at her tiny fingers playing with the bracelet George gave her, you think maybe some risks aren't worth taking. You won't let her build hopes around someone only to watch them crumble.

Better to step back now, before she gets even more attached. Before those goodnight calls and LEGO sessions and racing stories become something she can't live without. Before George becomes a person she waits by windows for.

Even if it means breaking your own heart in the process.

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The soft knock at your door comes just after ten. You knew he'd come, George Russell isn't the type to let something go, especially not this. Still, your hands shake as you open the door.

He looks exhausted, still in his travel clothes, hair messy like he's been running his hands through it repeatedly. The moment he sees you, his face crumples with relief.

"YN," he breathes, stepping forward, but you move back.

"You shouldn't be here," your voice is barely a whisper, conscious of Amelia sleeping down the hall.

"Where else would I be?" He stays in the doorway, respecting your space even as his eyes plead with you. "Please, just talk to me. What happened? What changed?"

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hold it together. "I saw the photos."

"The- oh god, the event photos?" His eyes widen. "YN, that wasn't- it was just PR. Mercedes arranged it, I should have told you but I didn't think-"

"It's not about the photos," you cut in, though your heart clenches remembering them. "It's about what they made me realize."

"Which is?"

"That this isn't fair. To any of us. But especially not to Amelia."

His face falls. "What are you talking about?"

You glance down the hallway, making sure her door is still closed, then move further into the living room. George follows, closing the front door softly.

"She never met her father," you say quietly. "He left when I told him I was pregnant. Said he wasn't ready for a family, for responsibility. Last I heard he was in Australia somewhere."

"YN..."

"She used to ask about him," you continue, voice thick. "When she was younger. Why didn't she have a daddy like other kids? Was it because she wasn't good enough? Did she do something wrong?"

"She was just a baby," George says softly. "It wasn't her fault."

"No, it wasn't. It was mine. For letting someone into her life who could hurt her." You look at him directly. "I won't make that mistake again."

"I'm not him," George steps closer. "I would never-"

"You can't promise that," you cut in. "You can't promise you won't wake up one day and realize this is all too much. The responsibility, the complications, the fact that you're barely twenty-seven and suddenly playing father figure to a five-year-old."

"I'm not playing at anything," he says fiercely. "I love her. I love you both."

"Now you do. But what about in six months? A year? When the novelty wears off and you realize you could have someone without all this baggage?"

"Is that what you think this is?" He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "That you're some kind of novelty? That Amelia is baggage?"

"I think you're young and successful and have your whole life ahead of you. And I think one day you'll realize that life could be a lot simpler without us in it."

"You don't get to decide that," he says, voice rising slightly before he catches himself, lowering it again. "You don't get to decide what I want or how I feel."

"I get to decide what's best for my daughter."

"And you think pushing away someone who loves her is what's best?"

"I think..." your voice cracks. "I think protecting her from another heartbreak is what's best. You should have seen her face yesterday, when she thought you might miss her party. The way her whole world dimmed, just at the possibility. I can't... I can't watch her go through that for real."

"Then it's a good thing she won't have to," he steps closer again. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

"You can't promise that."

"Yes, I can." He reaches for your hand but you pull back. "YN, please. Look at me."

You shake your head, tears falling now. "I can't risk it. The way she looks at you... she trusts you completely. She loves you so much already."

"And I love her," he insists. "More than I ever thought possible. Do you know what I keep in my wallet? That drawing she did of us, where she put all three of us together and wrote 'my family' at the top. I look at it every day. It's not some game to me."

"George..."

"No, listen to me. I know you're scared. I know you're trying to protect her. But pushing me away isn't the answer. Let me prove to you that I'm not going anywhere."

From down the hall comes a small voice: "Mummy?"

You both freeze as Amelia appears, rubbing her eyes sleepily. The moment she sees George, her whole face lights up.

"George!" she runs to him and he catches her automatically, lifting her up. "You came back!"

The way she clings to him, the natural way he holds her, the absolute trust in her eyes - it makes your heart ache.

"Of course I came back, princess," he says softly, but his eyes are on you. "I'll always come back."

"Promise?" she asks, already drifting back to sleep against his shoulder.

"Promise," he whispers, pressing a kiss to her hair.

You watch them, your chest tight with love and fear and possibility. "I should put her back to bed."

"Let me?" he asks quietly. When you hesitate, he adds, "Please?"

You nod, unable to speak past the lump in your throat.

You follow them to her room, watching as he tucks her in with practiced ease, making sure her favorite stuffed car is properly positioned.

"G'night George," she mumbles. "Love you."

"Love you too, princess," he whispers, smoothing her hair back.

Back in the living room, he turns to you. "That's what you're trying to protect her from? Love?"

"I'm trying to protect her from losing it."

"Then stop trying to make her lose it," he says gently. "Stop trying to make us both lose it."

"I'm scared," you admit, voice breaking.

"I know," he steps closer, and this time you don't move away. "But I'm not going anywhere. Not unless you make me."

"She needs stability."

"I know. Let me be that for her. For both of you."

"George..."

"Look at me," he pleads. "Really look at me. Do I look like someone who's going to walk away from this? From her? From you?"

You do look at him - at the sincerity in his eyes, the way he's still oriented toward Amelia's room like he can't help it, the drawing you know is worn at the edges from being taken out of his wallet so often.

"I can't lose you," you whisper. "Either of us."

"Then don't push me away," he reaches for you again, and this time you let him pull you close. "Let me love you both. Let me prove to you that some promises are worth believing in."

And there in the quiet of your flat, with your daughter sleeping peacefully down the hall and George's heart beating steady under your ear, you think maybe he already has.

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liked by georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli and 90,122 others

yourinstagram Six years ago, you made me a mother. Six years of endless love, racing car stories, messy art projects, and the kind of joy I never knew existed before you. You amaze me every single day with your kindness, your intelligence, and your incredible spirit. The way you see the world, the way you love so fearlessly, the way you make everyone around you smile. You're magic, my darling girl. Happy birthday to my little racer, my best friend, my greatest adventure. Here's to many more years of race car pancakes, LEGO building sessions, and hearing you explain aerodynamics to anyone who'll listen (sorry about that, fellow airplane passengers). I love you more than all the checkered flags in the world. ❤️

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username1 THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL

username2 happy birthday to little amelia !

georgerussell63 Happy birthday to the most amazing co-pilot anyone could ask for ❤️ Can't wait to finish that LEGO car with you today, princess. Love you lots x

kimi.antoneli happy birthday little monster. your present will make your mother cry. you're welcome.

carlossainz55 Feliz cumpleaños pequeña! 🎉 Still waiting for that rematch on the simulator!

lando HAPPY BIRTHDAY MELIA!

username3 the entire paddock loves her i'm crying

mercedesamgf1 Happy birthday to our youngest team member!

username4 yn is the best mama ever, doing it on her own too

username5 GEORGE THIS IS YOUR FAMILY

alex_albon Happy birthday Ames! 🎈 Still using those overtaking tips you gave me

username6 george bonus dad ever

username7 I LOVE THIS FAMILY SM

username8 Happy birthday to F1's favorite little princess

username9 george's comment 🥺 he loves them so much

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The house is finally quiet, scattered remnants of the party everywhere - wrapping paper, balloons, the racing track cake that took you hours to perfect. You're gathering paper plates when you hear George's soft footsteps coming from Amelia's room.

"She's finally asleep," he whispers, leaning against the doorframe. "Had to read the racing manual three times, but she's out."

You can't help but smile. "The manual? Really?"

"Her choice," he grins. "Said she needed to dream about proper racing lines."

"Of course she did." You shake your head fondly, continuing to clean up.

"Hey," he catches your hand gently as you pass. "Leave it. Just... sit with me for a bit?"

You hesitate, but nod, letting him lead you to the couch. You both sit, a careful distance between you that feels wrong after how close you've been these past months.

"She had a good day," you say softly, filling the silence.

"The best," he agrees. "Though I think Kimi might have gone overboard with the simulator."

"Might have? She's going to be impossible to get to school now."

George laughs quietly, then sobers. "YN... can we talk? Really talk?"

Your heart speeds up. "About?"

"Everything. Us. What happened this week. What you're afraid of."

You pull your knees up to your chest, making yourself smaller. "George..."

"Please," he says softly. "I need to understand. I need to know how to fix this."

"It's not about fixing," you say, staring at the birthday banner hanging crooked on the wall. "It's about... reality."

"What reality?"

"The reality that you're 27, successful, with your whole life ahead of you. And I'm..." you gesture vaguely, "complicated."

"You think that's how I see you? As complicated?"

"Isn't it true though? I come with so much... stuff. A child, responsibilities, limitations-"

"Stop," he cuts in, turning to face you fully. "Just... stop. You want to know what I see when I look at you both? I see family. I see home. I see the way Amelia's face lights up when she masters a new racing game. I see the way you scrunch your nose when you're concentrating on work. I see movie nights and pancake mornings and silly dance parties in the kitchen."

"George..."

"No, let me finish. You think you're some burden I'm carrying? You're not. You're the best part of every day. Both of you. Even when Amelia's giving me detailed critiques of my qualifying laps or when you're stress-cleaning at midnight before a deadline."

You feel tears forming. "But your life would be so much simpler without us."

"Simpler?" he laughs incredulously. "My life before you was empty. Sure, I had racing, but I came home to quiet rooms and takeaway for one. Now? Now I come home to crayon drawings on my fridge and LEGO cars in my shoes and two people who make everything better just by existing."

"But what about your career? The traveling, the events..."

"What about them?"

"I saw those photos, George. That world... it's so different from this one."

"You think I care about that world?" he moves closer. "You think I'd choose fancy parties over helping Amelia build racing tracks in the living room? Over watching you fall asleep during movies? Over this?"

"I don't want to hold you back."

"You don't," he says firmly. "You push me forward. Both of you do. Do you know what Amelia said to me tonight? She said we fit together like puzzle pieces. And she's right."

You wipe your eyes. "She's too smart for her own good."

"She gets that from her mum." He reaches for your hand, and this time you let him take it. "I know you're scared. I know you're trying to protect her. But I'm not going anywhere. Not unless you make me."

"I don't want to make you," you whisper. "That's what terrifies me."

"Why?"

"Because..." your voice breaks. "Because I love you. We both do. And if you leave..."

"I won't."

"You can't promise that."

"Yes, I can," he says fiercely. "I can promise that every single day for the rest of our lives if you'll let me. I can promise that I'll always come home to you both. That I'll always be there for school plays and birthdays and random Tuesday mornings. That I'll love you both more each day than the last."

"George..."

"You know what scared me most this week?" he continues. "Not just the thought of losing my girlfriend. The thought of losing my family. Of not hearing Amelia's bedtime stories or your laugh first thing in the morning. Of not being the person she runs to when she masters a new racing game or you turn to when you've had a hard day."

You're fully crying now. "When did you become so important to us?"

"Probably around the same time you became everything to me." He wipes your tears gently. "I love you, YN. Both of you. The busy mornings and quiet nights and everything in between. The complicated parts and the simple ones. All of it."

"Even when Amelia corrects your driving technique?"

He laughs softly. "Especially then. She's usually right anyway."

You lean into him finally, letting yourself feel the familiar comfort of his arms around you. "I'm sorry I pushed you away."

"I know why you did it," he kisses your hair. "But please don't do it again. Talk to me instead. Let me prove to you that some people stay."

"I'm still scared," you admit.

"That's okay," he says. "We can be scared together. Just don't shut me out."

From down the hall comes a small voice: "Mummy? George?"

You both look up to see Amelia standing there, clutching her stuffed race car.

"What's wrong, princess?" George asks.

"I forgot to say thank you," she says seriously. "For the best birthday ever. And..." she looks between you both. "Are you staying? For real this time?"

George looks at you, letting you take the lead.

Looking at them, at the man who loves your daughter like his own and the little girl who's already given him her whole heart - you make your decision.

"Yes, love," you say softly. "He's staying."

And sitting there, with your daughter asleep between you and George holding you both like he'll never let go, you think maybe it's okay to be scared sometimes. Maybe it's okay to let someone in, to trust that they'll stay, to believe in the kind of love that builds homes in hearts.

Because some puzzles are meant to stay together, even if it takes a six-year-old to show you how the pieces fit.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by yourinstagram, alex_albon and 601,299 others

georgerussell63 The best kind of Sunday 🚲❤️ From "I can't do it!" to "Watch how fast I can go!" in under an hour. Couldn't be prouder of my favorite co-pilot. Even if we had a few crashes into the bushes (sorry about that, YN). Worth every scrape and tear for that victory smile at the end. Now she wants to know when we can upgrade to a motorized version... Think that's a conversation for another day

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username1 THIS IS SUCH A PROUD DAD MOMENT

username2 he's protecting her from falling while letting her be brave

username3 george russell: world class driver, even better bonus dad

username4 "My favorite co-pilot" I'M NOT OKAY

username5 the way he naturally stepped into being her dad though 🥺

lewishamilton Next generation driver in training! 🙌🏾

lando should we be worried about our jobs?

yourinstagram Love you both, you troublemakers

username6 GEORGE REALLY IS THE FATHER WHO STEPPED UP

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The garage is a flurry of activity, screens displaying data streams and weather patterns while mechanics rush around with last-minute adjustments. You're deep in conversation with Bono about tire strategies when your phone buzzes with Amelia's FaceTime call.

"Hi baby," you answer, trying to keep one eye on the radar. "Ready for the race?"

"I've got ALL my lucky charms!" She holds up an assortment of trinkets, including the Mercedes keychain George gave her. "And Grandpa's watching with me! He says hi but he's pretending to be grumpy."

You hear your father's distinct grunt in the background and laugh. "Tell him I said-"

"Is that my favorite co-pilot?" George appears behind you, still in his race suit, hair messy from the helmet.

"GEORGE!" Amelia practically screams. "I miss you! Are you going to win today? I told everyone at school you would!"

His face softens in that way it only does for her. "Well, now I have to, don't I? Can't disappoint my biggest fan."

"I drew you a new good luck picture! Mummy has it!"

You pull the slightly crumpled paper from your pocket - a detailed drawing of a Mercedes car with "GO GEORGE!" written in wobbly letters.

"It's perfect," he beams. "Just what I needed."

"Mummy says it's going to rain," Amelia says seriously. "Remember what we practiced about wet weather racing?"

"Smooth inputs, gentle throttle, stay off the kerbs," George recites dutifully. "Did I pass the test?"

"Mmhmm. You can race now."

You both laugh at her solemn approval.

"Thanks, princess. Better go get ready now, okay? Watch out for me on the podium."

"Love you George! Love you Mummy!"

"Love you too, baby. Be good for Grandpa."

After you hang up, you notice George hasn't moved, still staring at the spot where Amelia's face had been.

"George? You okay?"

He seems to make a decision, turning to face you fully. "Move in with me."

Your heart stops. "What?"

"Both of you. Move in with me." His eyes are intense, certain. "The summer break is coming up. I've already been looking at furniture for Amelia's room, there's this racing car bed I found that she'd love, and the spare room would be perfect for your home office, and-" he stops, running a hand through his hair. "I know it's fast, but it doesn't feel fast, does it? It feels like we should have done this ages ago."

"George..."

"I hate coming home to an empty house," he continues. "I hate not hearing Amelia's morning chatter or your late-night typing. I hate that my fridge doesn't have her drawings on it, that my shelves don't have your books mixed with my racing magazines. I hate that when I buy groceries, I automatically get things for three people but there's only me there to eat them."

You glance around the garage, but everyone is deliberately focusing elsewhere, giving you privacy in the midst of chaos.

"The house is too big," he says softly. "Too quiet. Too... not you. Not us."

"Are you sure?" your voice barely a whisper. "This is a big step."

"I've never been more sure of anything." He takes your hands. "I want to wake up to Amelia jumping on our bed demanding pancakes. I want to fall asleep watching you work on race strategies. I want to build that LEGO city she's been planning in the spare room she already thinks of as hers. I want... I want everything. With both of you."

A mechanic calls out the five-minute warning.

"You need to go," you say, but don't let go of his hands.

"I need an answer more."

You look at him, this man who loves your daughter like his own, who makes you both feel safe, who wants to build a home with you.

"The racing car bed better be amazing," you whisper.

His face breaks into that brilliant smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." You squeeze his hands. "Now go win this race so we can celebrate properly."

He starts to walk away, then turns back. "YN?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you. Both of you. So much."

You smile, feeling something settle in your chest. "We love you too. Now focus on the race, or Amelia will never let you hear the end of it."

"Yes ma'am," he grins, pulling his helmet on.

You watch him walk to the car, your heart full. Outside, the Belgian sky opens up with rain, but for once, you're not worried about the weather.

And as George's car roars to life, as Amelia undoubtedly bounces with excitement on your couch at home (soon to be your old couch in your new home) you think about puzzle pieces and racing car beds and the way love builds itself into something permanent when you're not looking.

The race is about to start, but really, you think, the best part is just beginning.

[kkai-zen]

hello!!! i saw ur nightwing stuff and by god i love them i love ur writing so much 😭😭😭😭 feel free to ignore if ur not taking reqs btw but thoughts/hcs on dick/nightwing who has an idol!s/o? (this is just me wanting to see dick geeking out over a photocard of his beloved)

hiii! i'm so so sorry this took me so long but here it is and i hope you enjoy! thank you so much for the req (this was so fun hehe) and i hope you enjoy very much anon ⋆˙♡

idol ! ‧₊˚⊹

what dick grayson would be like dating an idol!s/o (thoughts + drabble) wc: 1.16k + sfw! + fluff + fem!idol!reader x dick grayson + kpop references (bonus points if you get them)

while dating an idol!s/o, dick grayson...

would be the most supportive bf ever.

he’s somehow at every concert, every fan meet, and every pop-up event even if it’s halfway across the world (he's really putting bruce’s bank account to use)

completely shameless when it comes to cheering for you

has the biggest, most obvious signs ever, with your name written all over it in big bold letters.

always winks at you from the crowd when he: 1) isn’t cheering his lungs out for you and 2) knows you’re looking at him.

teases the crap out of you during fan meets

“have we met before?” “you look like my future girlfriend.” “mind if i get your number?” (all while smirking at you)

your shared apartment is filled to the brim with your merch

it got so bad that you had to convince him to move it since it was taking up so much space 

he begrudgingly said he would move it. (he did not)

he has every album, every CD, every remix, every version of your light stick, posters, hoodies, shirts, etc etc

embarrasses you every time you’re in the car together because he’ll only play your music

will also unabashedly scream the lyrics to your songs (in the car, during karaoke, while watching your performance vids, honestly whenever he can get away with it)

teases you by asking for live performances at home 

also teasingly asks for signatures (which he already has many of; all of his albums, photo cards, and CDs are signed)

on days he can’t attend concerts, he’ll always watch the livestreams, performance vids, or fancams as soon as they come out

several residents of bludhaven have, more than once, seen nightwing perched atop buildings while watching your fancams intently on his phone, humming and bobbing his head to the music. 

has also been spotted (as nightwing and dick grayson) watching and re-watching several of your interviews and variety show content videos. 

it eventually became a widespread fact that infamous bludhaven vigilante nightwing was a huge fan of yours

nightwing’s phone case also made news headlines for having one of your rarest photo cards displayed in the case. 

many fans jokingly beefed with nightwing over the card, asking him to hand it over

(he’d rather die than give it up)

“NOOOOO!” 

You hear Dick’s cry from the living room and whip your head around. “Dick-! What happened?”

Your boyfriend is slumped over the coffee table, one of your albums laying in front of him, open, with photo cards laying haphazardly on top. He lets out another groan.

“Babe…”

You rush over to him, placing a hand on his back.

“What is it?” Eyes scanning his body, you urgently check for wounds. “Is it an injury? Did a stitch reopen?”

Dick lifts his head to look up at you. 

“…I…”

His hand is trembling as he points to the photo cards. 

“Dick-”

“I…already have those photo cards…”

“…huh?”

“I- I didn’t get the one I wanted…”

“…”

Smack!

“Ow!” He yelps, wincing, hand coming up to rub his shoulder. “Wha-what was that for?” 

You point an accusing finger at him. “I seriously thought you just got stabbed or poisoned or- or shot or something, for god’s sake, but you’re freaking out—” you pick up the cards. “—over my photo cards?!” 

Dick laughs nervously, shrinking back a tiny bit as you glower down at him. “Ah- haha…sorry babe. I’m just- uh- a passionate fan, y’know?” 

With a huff, you turn away, stomping off to your bedroom. 

“Hey babe, where are you- wait- I’m sorry! Shit.”

Dick sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s about to stand up and follow you, but before he can, you’re stomping back into the living room, something sparkly in hand. 

His eyes widen at the sight. 

“Is that-“

Sighing, you hold out the card to him. 

“The original 5th anniversary debut photo card you’re looking for, yes.” 

Dick’s eyes dart from you to the card to you and back to the card.

“Can I really have it?” He gapes at it like he’s won a million dollars. 

“Yes, Dick, you can have it.” 

His wide-eyed look of excitement is almost cute enough for you to forgive him for nearly giving you a heart attack earlier. 

He takes the card from you slowly, as if he was afraid it would evaporate from his hands, and after admiring it for a solid minute, he leaps up from the couch. Humming the catchy melody of your most recent single, he jogs to the bedroom before returning with a mini-photo card binder. He plops himself back down on the couch.

Sliding his newly-acquired card into a specifically designated spot (decorated with sparkly deco stickers?), Dick happily admires the card while tilting it, beaming at your smiling face from all angles. “Nice! I finally have all the photo cards from the debut album.” 

You tilt your head at him, eyebrow raised, hands on your hips. “Huh?”

“I’m only missing a few from the ‘READY TO BE’  album, and one from your ‘Love wins all’  single release. I might go to Barnes & Noble tomorrow to see if they have any of those in stock…” 

You stand there, mouth slightly agape. 

“And I think I already have everything from the ‘Feel My Rhythm’  EP… maybe I’m missing something from your third mini-album?” He strokes his chin thoughtfully. 

“Dick…” 

He looks up at you. “Hm?” 

You seat yourself across from him, leaning forward to place your elbows on your knees, hands tucked under your chin as you narrow your eyes. 

“What was the name of my debut album?” 

He squints at you. “What?” 

“What was the name of my debut album?” You repeat, voice grave.

“Uh…’Romanticize’ ?”

“And what was my first collab?”

“‘South End’ featuring RM.” 

“Which of my albums broke the most records?” 

“Mm…probably ‘READY TO BE’  in terms of sales? But ‘dreamscape’  broke the most record for Spotify streams in 24 hours-”

“And what was the most popular B-side in that album?” 

“In ‘dreamscape’? Well, I think ‘seoul city’ was, looking at the audience reception and streams…” his brows furrow in thought.

“But personally, I think that ‘people’  was the best. Like, the lyrics? The production? I mean come on, everything about that song is an absolute masterpiece. I get chills every time I listen-” 

You burst out laughing. 

“D-Dick- ”

Leaping over into his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck, grinning into the crook of his neck. 

“You really are a fan, huh?” 

He blushes a little red, scratching the back of his head. “Can you blame me?” Dick laughs back, playfully poking your cheek. “I’m dating you. Who also happens to be my long-time celebrity crush and a world-famous idol.” 

Beaming up at him, you curl closer into his chest. 

“Maybe I’ll give you another original photo card.”

“Wait, really?” 

“Only if you buy me dinner tonight.”

“You absolutely have a deal, princess.”

[thegreenlynx]

NPC - K.SM

Description: Your best friend Seungmin suggests playing Stardew Valley with you and he's far more into it than you were expecting. 

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Fem Reader

Genre: Fluff, slightly suggestive

Content Warnings: slight jealousy(of a game lol), suggestive content(just kissing/making out), Seungmin get's a little riled up

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: My submission for the Stay's secret gift exchange event created by @starlostastronaut. This is written for @j-0ne25, I really hope you like it! I enjoyed writing it, this event was so fun! ☆ ☆ ☆

"So I was thinking..." Seungmin starts, hand lightly tapping a rhythm on your cheap wood table as you cook the two of you lunch.

"Oh yeah?" You chuckle, flipping the stir-fry around in the pan lightly with a hum. "Didn't know you could do that."

He doesn't reply, so you turn around to look at him and are met with a very prominent pout. "Fine. Never mind then, I'll do it with someone else."

"No no." Your hand waves at him, still holding the spatula. "Lemme hear first."

"I was thinking we should try Stardew Valley next." He says it with a little smile, the pout going away immediately. Seungmin never stays upset long.

He's referring to a little thing the two of you have going. A thing where the two of you play games together, most of the time games neither of you have played before. It started when Seungmin had invited you, his best friend, to play among us with him and the boys. It was a lot of fun, and ever since the two of you have been playing together regularly. Usually with Hyunjin, Han, Jeongin, or Felix, sometimes Minho, and once in a blue moon someone will drag Chan or Changbin in too.

"Oh, yeah?" You ask, a little surprised at his choice, "I didn't think you'd be into that."

"Well you're wrong." He shakes his head and sighs at you before staring back at his hands that still tap on the table. "Sooo? Come on, say yes."

You roll your eyes as you go to grab the plates to set the table. "Yeah, of course we can play."

And so the two of you did. It had taken you a bit to get adjusted and play through the tutorial but the two of you were actually quite enjoying running your little farm together. Though admittedly neither of you were very good, both messing up pretty frequently at the start. Forgetting when stores close, running out of stamina far more times than would be socially acceptable.

Seungmin has taken to doing the hard part, clearing and cleaning up the overrun farm. While you get to chat with all the villagers. Frequently interrupting his work to force you both to watch cutscenes. One cutscene in particular threw you both off, the scene of Linus digging in the trashcans in town.

"Hey... I've been doing that too! That's my trash Linus!" Seungmin rants, kicking his feet. "What do you mean it's dirty? It's free stuff..."

His one sided conversation makes you laugh, leaning your head against your palm as you watch him and not your own screen.

"Uhhh y/n...?" Seungmin takes you out of your daze a while later. "It's 1:30, where are you?" You look at his character on his screen, now in the farm house in bed, then over at your own in the middle of town right as it passes out.

"Ah fuck, not again."

"Hey y/n?" Seungmin says, voice excited. "Come look, come look!"

"I'm kinda in the middle of fishing Minnie, what is it?" You say, trying to look over at his screen, but he covers your eyes before you can actually see anything.

"No you have to come see yourself! We can fish together after." He gets up and turns you back to your own screen. "Please? It'll just take a second, I swear."

"Okay, yeah fine." You put your hand over his on your shoulder and move your character with the other, wandering on back to your shared farm. "Up here?"

You feel him rest his head gently atop yours, "Yeah, a little to the left." His slender finger points at the screen. "There! I made that! For us!"

"Oh is it a chest?" You ask as you move your other hand to your keyboard and click on the chest to find it's already half filled with a bunch of materials.

"You kept complaining about running out of inventory space, so I made a chest." His arms naturally wind around your shoulders and his cheek rubs against your hair. "You can use whatever you want from it."

You feel your face heat up. Seungmin is normally affectionate but he's gotten especially cuddly with you lately. Ever since playing the game really. His arms are warm against you, the whole room just feels a little too hot. You look away a moment before refocusing on the game. "Isn't it your stuff though?"

"Yeah, but like... you can have it." His hands slide up your collar and rub your neck once before slipping away as he returns to his own screen. "I want you to have it."

"Oh..." You refuse to look at him, he doesn't need to know how red your face is right now. "Thank you Minnie."

When the two of you finally make it to exploring the caves Seungmin takes up the job of being your defender, he fights off all of the monsters while you do most of the ore mining. When you guys leave the cave despite you offering to give him half of your loot he only asks for a few ores.

You tend the crops, he does the cleaning up. You give gifts to the villagers, Seungmin laughs at you when they hate your gift. Seungmin digs in the trashcans, you laugh when the villagers call him out or when he ends up just getting the expected yet utterly disappointing broken CD. Seungmin places every piece of furniture you guys get in the most absurd and inconvenient places he can find, then gets disappointed when they disappear.

Overall, the community center is where the two of you have the most fun. Seungmin has turned it into a little competition, each time you compete to complete it first and whoever does is supposed to get the prize. However, you've begun to notice that if it's a good prize Seungmin never actually takes it for long. He lets you live in your state of being a loser just long enough to see you sulk before giving you the prize anyway so you'll smile at him.

This one time was different. Seungmin could have easily beat you to this bundle, he's far better at fishing. Yet, he had stopped fishing all of a sudden. It allowed you to finish it first.

"Seungmin! Minnie I did it! I got the bundle!" You leap out of your chair and cheer, you finally got one!

Seungmin just watches, silent but smiling wide as you celebrate all by yourself.

Eventually the two of you manage to get the farm cleaned up. Your crops have become more consistent, you've gotten better at fishing and cave exploring, you have bigger inventories, and your tools are upgraded. Everything feels like it's going shockingly well.

"Hey do you know where the prismatic chard is?" Seungmin asks one day while you are continuing your game. You're not at the farm but you walk back to check the chest for it. Yet before you can look a pop up shows across the screen.

'MiniMong has asked you to marry him, will you accept his offer of marriage?' 

You can feel your face heat up even worse than the last time as you stare blankly at the message. You slowly look over at Seungmin to see him staring back at you, not the game. His cheeks are a little flushed. He looks at you like he just handed you a knife and is hoping you don't stab him with it. Doubt with the slightest glimmer of hope roll around like two cats fighting in his beautiful dark eyes.

"Was that an accident?" You ask quietly, wondering if perhaps he was just holding the item and accidentally clicked on your character. Maybe he didn't know what it did. Maybe he did it as a joke. It isn't exactly unlike him to freeze like this out of embarrassment, not necessarily because he is actually nervous.

"No..." he says even quieter, glancing at your screen before looking at you. He takes a shaky breath and continues, playing with his fingers as he speaks slowly.

"I wanted to play this with you because I wanted to spend time with you. Just you. Not with the other guys getting in the way. I like pretending I'm racing you to finish a bundle to see you sulk, just to give you the reward anyway so you smile at me. I like watching your face more than the cutscenes. I like seeing how excited you get when you catch a fish. Every time I do something I want to tell you so you'll be proud of me. Everything I get I wanna give to you. I've had feelings for an embarrassingly long time and I don't want to be just your best friend anymore, I want an upgrade. Haven't I earned it yet?" The question is asked like he's been trying really hard to convince you to say yes. Like this wasn't sudden at all.

You stare at him wide eyed, not quite knowing how to respond. "Why didn't you tell me before?" You're blindsided really, you thought he was just being cute. Seungmin's always being cute. You didn't even consider he was trying to court you. Strange method and all.

"Wanted it to be a surprise. The second I learned you could propose to players I wanted this to be how I confessed. Be my girlfriend? Please?" He gets up and kneels in front of you on the floor. He holds your hands with both of his. It almost feels like a real proposal, you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears. "I'll be a good video game husband too. I don't wanna marry an NPC, say yes, please." He tries to sound playful, nonchalant, but the desperation is clear in his eyes and even more with every sweet please that falls from his lips. Really, how could you say no?

You smile at him, toothy and silly. "I'll be your girlfriend Minnie, I feel the same." You squeeze his hands in your own as you see him relax, a breath releasing as he looks at you with a mix of affection and relief.

However, suddenly he smirks at you. Kissing you, quick and brief on the cheek before clicking the yes button on your screen on your behalf. "Gonna be my wife too." His smile is goofy, filled with the signature mischief you should expect from him.

It prompts an exasperated chuckle from you, you shake your head. "I think I can live with that." He smiles at you, pausing the game and pulling you half on top of him on the floor to cuddle with him. A hand on your back and a finger twirling in your hair. "But..."

He quirks a brow, pausing briefly as his arm wraps fully around your waist. "But...?"

"Now I can't marry Harvey..." You tease, pretending to sulk about what would have been your lovely NPC boyfriend. He glares, flicks your forehead almost instinctually.

"Hey!" You go to tickle him but before you can even touch him he flips you over, grabbing both of your hands and pinning them above you on the ground.

"You do realize your little NPC boyfriend won't be able to do anything for you right? Like he's basically useless aside from a few cutscenes and a kid." You gasp, slightly offended at the drag, but he continues before you can say anything. "He won't bring you nice things, won't kill monsters for you when you suck at it, won't laugh at your silly jokes or make you feel better when you forget the time and lose some of your shit again."

You stare up at him, it's not unlike Seungmin to joke like this but for some reason he actually seems a little riled up about it. His eyes narrow a bit as he leans in a little closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "He's a doctor, sure, but will he understand you like I do?" He asks and his hands shift, one now taking hold of both of yours as the other slides down to your face, finger brushing your lips hesitantly. "He might kiss you but will you feel it like I can make you feel it?"

Your eyes widen as his face leans a bit closer to yours, breath ghosting across your lips, warm and unfamiliar. "Will it feel as good?" His eyes are on your lips now, barely open while his own lips get even closer, brushing against his finger he still has pressed against your soft skin. "Will it feel as soft?" The question is breathy, barely there as his finger slips to your chin.

His lips meet yours naturally the second it does. Not harsh, not fast. Soft, gentle, warm, perfect. Shaking just slightly, though you're not sure if it's nerves or excitement. It's always hard to tell with Seungmin. Your head tilts almost as if on instinct, not quite deepening the kiss but reciprocating by pressing your lips against his a little more. His lips lift into a beautiful smile in the kiss, you feel the breath of relief as he laughs a little against you before pulling away a bit.

"See y/n?" He lets go of your hands as you stare up at him with flushed cheeks, his newly free hand slides to your waist. "You want me, not an NPC." He smiles at you, genuine, not cocky like you would expect from him. "You wanna have me. That dumb doctor won't make you happy. I'm gonna make you so happy."

His smiling lips press softly against yours once more, you pull him into you fully by the collar and he barely manages to not crush you by resting his other arm on the ground by your head. He pulls back just enough to speak against your lips with a breathless chuckle. "Video game or real life, I'll make you the happiest."

He deepens the kiss then, lips pursuing yours again and again. He tests several angles searching for what gives him most access, desperation showing more and more with every part of his lips. It still isn't enough, your hand flies to his hair while you hum against his lips. In response his hand grips your waist a little tighter and his tongue tentatively slips to brush against your lips. The small gasp you let out and the tiny pull of his hair encourage him, he presses it between your lips and the moan he gives you as your tongue meets his rumbles against your chest.

By the time you part he's panting, looking down at you like he'd been waiting to do that for a little too long. When he catches his breath a bit, he lays his head on your chest and wraps his arms around your stomach. Mumbling against the fabric of your shirt in a way that is so adorable, and so Seungmin. "Also... his mustache looks stupid."

Stay's Secret Gift Exchange Master List ( ⮤ Click Here for Everyone Else's Entries! ⮥ )

SKZ Works

Taglist: @my-neurodivergent-world @possum-playground @m-325

[n0rmal-cat]

Kpop demon hunters x reader- selling your soul for job experience Part 14

[um…i have no idea what this is, not one. so if this is cringe its because i had a mental breakdown writing this…haha]

headcanon's part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13

"You're lying!" shouted in Romance’s face. 

“I don’t lie,” he retorted, flicking through the channels of the TV.  

"You lie all the time! And I thought you didn't have a lover. ‘The stage lights almost feel like the warmth of a lover' sound familiar?" they pressed, crossing their arms. 

Romance sighed, then brought his hand to their face, cold...has it always been so cold? He let go, returning his attention to the flickering screen. "They’re good enough for you."

"Yeah, but them?!" reader whispered.

"Leave me alone, it's been over three hundred years," he paused and started to smile, "and they make me laugh," he blushed.

"But why did no one tell me?"

"We didn't think we needed to. What's the sudden interest, anyway? Jealous?" he smirked, leaning back.

"It's not jealousy," they glared into the other room. "I just hate to lose to him."

"Yeah hun, that's called jealousy, there's no need you know and hey, I'll be honest, I like you." reader blushed at his words, surprised.

"I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t. I can’t say the same for the others, though." He shrugged 

"Are you always this open…?"

"Jinu gave me the name Romance for a reason. If your answer is no, then that's fine, you know, there's no pressure." He looked back at the TV, but not before giving them a closed-eye smile.

Reader got up and slowly walked back into their room, wanting to leave the awkward conversation as fast as they could. 

However fate seemed to have other plans for them as leaving one situation led to another more questionable one.

"Why are you on my bed?" One of their eyes twitched as Reader  stood in their doorway.

"You haven't been paying attention to me lately," Abby pouted. "I thought I might as well take it into my own hands and go somewhere I knew you couldn't resist!"

"Pay attention to you? I see you every day." They argued.

"Yeah, but that’s with the group." He rolled his eyes dramatically. "When's the last time it was just you and me, huh?"

Reader raised an eyebrow, trying to recall. "I met you guys like last week?"

"Oh, come on, spend some time with me!" he whined like a toddler.

"What do you even want to do? Don’t you have to practice for…I don’t know, the end of the world or something?"

"Reader, you will take me out, and we will have fun! Do you understand?" His eyes narrowed as he glared up at them.

Reader sighed, "Fine, what do you want to do so we can get this over with?" They prayed he just wanted to go out to eat or something simple like that, they really did not want to go back out just to do some random bullshit.

"The club," he declared

"The club!? I'm not taking you to the club!" They put their foot down.

"And why not? The club is amazing! Everyone is happy, and they’re all partying!"

"You have never been to any party, have you?"

He puffed out his cheeks in offence. "And if I haven’t?"

"Get up. We’re going somewhere," they instructed 

"Yes!"

"This is not the club," he watched as children ran around the park.

"One, it's two PM, and two, I don’t trust any of you with alcohol," they replied, sinking onto a nearby park bench together.

"I'm a great drinker.." he huffed

"Sure, sure," they patted his knee with a teasing smile. "Tangerine?" they offered, pulling the fruit from their bag.

He silently took a slice, putting it into his mouth. "Why here anyway?"  his voice muffled.

Reader looked out at the field before them, "You said you wanted it to be just you and me, right, and considering my track record so far, I didn't want to bump into you know who." They leaned on their hand

"The hunters?" He chewed 

they nodded

"Yeah, what a shame, man, if I were alive, I'd totally ask her out," he swooned.

"Who?"

"the pink one"

"Mira," reader smirked.

"Mira~" he mimicked,

pink, mean to him, both probably need glasses but never wear them...guy has a type huh?

"And you?" he turned his head to them.

“Hm, what about me?” they replied

He gave them a nudge. “Oh, come on! I see those goo-goo eyes you’re giving them.”

"What I give them..." they deadpanned.

“Admit it, we’re in love, huh?” 

Reader pulled back, "ok, you know what today has been a really weird day for me, and for some reason every time I'm alone with you guys we get to this subject, so I'm stopping you right here." They put a hand to  Abby’s lips

“Think of something else to talk about. I don’t know…” they trailed off, searching their surroundings for inspiration. Their gaze finally landed on a few birds flying through the sky.

“Birds…” they muttered, man, their conversation skills were ass.

"Like Sussie?..." he asked, confused.

"You know what, sure, let's talk about Sussie, what's the deal with him and derpy anyway? I understand their jinu pets, but are they demons too?" They slouched into the bench

"Oh, I guess I never thought about it that way," he thought with a hum. "I guess they have to be demons, huh, I mean, how else would they get down there...did Gwi-ma make a deal with a bird and a tiger...or were they born there?"

He put a hand to his chin, it looked like it was the most he'd thought about in a while.

"Born there? You can be born a demon?" That was new information

“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t know. There are basically two paths to becoming a demon: one is the way you did, and the other is being born a demon or, in Purple’s case, being a half-demon.” He crossed his legs, resting his head back against the bench with a yawn.

"Wow, wow! What do you mean, half demon!?" They grab onto his shirt

"Hey, don't hold on so tight, you're gonna hurt me," he pouted.

"Now's not the time to be pouting, who's the purple one! Rumi?!" One of the buttons on his shirt popped off

"Yeah, didn't you know? Well, I guess you weren't with us when Jinu found out, did he not tell you?" he tilted his head.

"So she's really...she's part demon?" They finally let go of him.

“Yeah, it’s kind of weird, though, how Gwi-ma doesn’t have control over her. Maybe it’s because she’s half hunter as well.”

He took the last slice of the tangerine and pop it into his mouth “speaking of gwi-ma he really wants to talk to you face to face, said he needs bonding time”

Reader raised a brow “bonding time, why the hell would me and him need bonding time. More importantly he doesn’t care about me and I don’t care about him”

“Well don’t hurt me over it I’m just telling you what he told us last night” he raised his hands up in defence.

Reader fidgeted with their hands as Abby laid back, "Thanks for bringing me here by the way.." he said looking away from them, his attention fixated on a group of friends walking down the path laughing with each other.

"Yeah.." they tried to talk inside their own head to maybe catch the attention of gwi-ma but the more they did so they realized that they sounded absolutely crazy.

His eyes drifted to the playground. "Hey, you wanna go play on the slide?" He pointed at the slide that didn’t look wide enough to fit his upper body.

“No, no, I do not want to do that,” Reader shook their head.

Abby scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Booooring... What about the swing-” 

"Please stop talking, I'm really trying to think here, you've given me a lot of new information, and I don't know how to feel about it." They shifted away from him.

"reader, you gotta stop trying to solve a mystery that doesn't need solving." He put his arm on the back of the bench.

"Got any more fruit?" He tried to open their bag himself but his hand was swatted away.

"No? I only really brought one for myself." They moved their bag away from him.

He paused for a bit. "wanna go kill someone then?" He looked up at the sky.

“What!? Abby, what are you even saying?!” they exclaimed, eyes wide with confusion and disbelief.

“We can’t just go and do that, Abby! T-that’s insane!” Reader’s voice trembled, caught between shock and disgusted.

“Come on, Reader. There are only eight days left until it’s time, and you haven’t eaten a single soul. When the feast finally happens, you won’t know how to eat,” he added, almost sad.

“The park is nice but I asked to go to the club to forget my past not relive it” he grumbled 

"But I don’t want to hurt anyone..." Reader muttered, shifting uncomfortably in their seat

"It won’t hurt, trust me... probably," he said with a nervous laugh, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. A wide grin broke across his face as he got up, pulling Reader along despite their hesitation. “So let’s go, and feast.”

"But wait, where are we going?!” they yelled, stumbling slightly as Abby tugged them along.

“Buffet!” He smiled

Abby led them through the park and into the streets, “this is where the parties at reader!” He stopped

“The train station?” They gathered themself

He took them inside without a word, weaving between people until he picked an empty cart and ushered Reader inside. The atmosphere was eerily quiet, only the faint hum of the train cutting through the stillness.

“Abby, where are you taking me?” they whispered to him.

"When the lights go off, open your mouth," he instructed

"Why-"

"Trust me, reader."

Reader sighed, glancing out the window as the tunnel loomed in front of them. This was supposed to be a peaceful trip to the park...

The lights from the window were covered. Reader reluctantly obeyed, opening their mouth. Confusion washed over them as they tasted something extraordinary sweet, savoury, almost otherworldly.

When the lights flickered back on, Reader's heart dropped. They were alone in the cart. No one else remained, not a single soul left behind.

“Divine,” Abby sighed contentedly, licking his lips with satisfaction.

"W-what just happened?" They stood up and walked around the cart, it was like they were never there in the first place.

“We just had lunch, that’s what happened! It was a nice trip to the park, and now we’ve got a meal to go with it,” Abby replied casually.

“That was it? We... ate them?” Reader asked, panicked

“They were good, weren’t they? The taste is far better when they don’t suspect a thing,” he said with a shrug as the train doors creaked open. “Well, this is our stop.”

Reader grabbed his sleeve, their voice shaking. “W-Wait...!”

"Are they all gone?" Their voice shook

"And if we don't get out of here soon, the hunters will find us, come on," he grabs their hand once again, pulling them along.

Dragging them through crowds of people and into the shadows of alleyways and in between buildings. He only stopped once they reached a dead end, to which he began to give them sickening laughs.

“Wasn’t that amazing!? What a rush! Hahaha!” he yelled, his laughter echoing off the brick walls, his human form momentarily shedding its facade, wearing only black with skin purple.

"How was it?" he asked, smirking down at Reader.

Reader collapsed onto the ground, their breath coming in shallow gasps as they stared blankly ahead, their mind foggy. “They were delicious... probably the best thing I ever tasted,” they admitted, a strange mixture of awe and horror. 

"Right, it's so good!" he shouted excitedly.

“Amazing,” they replied, shaking their head in disbelief.

"Yeah, yeah! Readers all grown up!" he pulled them up while jumping with them. "Oh, reader, this party is going to be the best!" He hugged them close to his chest.

They didn't even bother at that point, they just went limp in his arms. 'reader, I'm so proud of you, didn't I tell you you would be perfect here. You love it, don't you? It's nothing but heavenly, the others down here are starving, reader, don't you wish to help them?'

Their eyes dulled, and they took a breath before closing them. "reader?...re-" the outside world faded out and went blank.

When they woke up, they were no longer in Abby's arms, or on earth at all, for that matter. They could hear crowds of cheering from below them." What?" They sat up, peering over the many, many stairs.

“It’s so nice to finally see you,” a booming voice echoed behind them. 

They immediately recognized the voice and felt a chill run down their spine. “Gwi-ma, I—”

"Oh no, there's no need to speak. I just brought you here to show you all your adoring fans." reader felt their body being turned around against their will.

Looking down upon hundreds of demons, all cheering for the saja boys, "Show our little manager how grateful you are for them!” Gwi-ma commanded.

The demons erupted into an even louder frenzy, some crying tears of joy. Until this moment, Reader had never truly seen another demon, so seeing all of these demons full of well 'life', to put it simply, was jarring.

“Why did you bring me here?” they managed to ask, desperately trying to sound calm but failing miserably, their voice trembling slightly.

“I just wanted to show you what you’re fighting for. Look at all those happy faces,” he said, and set them back down in front of him.

It was only when they were placed on the ground that they realized they were dressed in different clothing. Glancing down at themselves. Black robs and purple skin, just like the boys.

“Well, don’t you just look adorable!” Gwi-ma cooed and began to puppet their body like there were strings attached.

“Lair, you brought me here for a reason! I may not know you fully, but I know you well enough to realize you want something else!” they shouted, their arms twisting involuntarily over their head, yet surprisingly, it didn’t hurt.

“You're right. I do love to torment you, but there’s another reason I brought you here. You see, you haven’t been doing much with the hunters. You understand how the modern world works, but it seems you lack the skills to torture," he replied.

"So you're gonna torture me so I can learn?!" they yelled.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic! And no, that would be a foolish idea. I’m going to accompany you in the human world,” he said, his voice low and almost mocking.

"Going to what?!" 

A loud explosion hit them straight on, they would have been flung back if their body were actually able to move.

As they blinked through the haze, they heard gasps from below. When they finally opened their eyes, standing before them was a middle-aged businessman fixing his tie.

“To be completely honest with you, I should have done this much earlier, but, haha!” He threw his head back, laughter spilling from his lips. “I just loved the way you fell under my influence slowly, and now that you’re fully under my control…”

Their body squeezed tightly as if they were going to pop. He walked towards them. “I just want to see your world crumble,” he sneered, a dark glint in his eyes.

“Bha!” they gasped for breath as they crashed onto the floor. “Get up, we’re going!” a gruff voice commanded.

"You brought me to hell just for that?!” they exclaimed, rubbing their heads and rising to their feet. Looking down, they were shocked to find themselves in their regular clothes again. “I’m already their manager-was that for nothing?!”

"For nothing? No, making a deal with you wasn’t for nothing. In fact, you gave me something I didn’t know I needed. I should have thought about making one of you sooner,” he remarked, glancing back with a smirk.

Now let’s go. Those idiots are running around like chickens with their heads cut off,” he scoffed.

Reader glared at him from behind

wait...now that they took a closer look at him in the sunlight… Why did he kind of look like them? Confusion washed over their face as they locked eyes with him..

"Why do you-"

“My human persona. Your father, did you like it? I made you the manager of one of the talent groups because I want you to continue the business. You're also a nepo baby now, ha, i just learned that word” he smirked, spinning around to face them.

"No?! Why would you do that!?"

"Good, I like to see you suffer."

Reader’s head throbbed with disbelief. 'I thought this was supposed to be a peaceful day in the park!'

the tag list-

@tumblblob @snowy-violet @yumi-does-stuff @d3sperate-enuf @kashasenpai @scara-simp69 @starwormy @luv1ayala @00hellohello00 @julia-loves-cupcakes @twilightknightt @caffeinatedtale @xoxoyukixoxo @mousedit @minthoneynbasil @iminyourwallsbbg @nightmarewasteland @qxuanii @insideoutjulie @stuxxnioe @milkcatfern @mod-strap @satansdaughter123 @wiggly-yrath @kpopgirliez @lvvcian @inkycapps @pureblood-blake @bunniotomia

[actuallywlccan]

I love spuffy too, but i think it's important in order to understand spike's character that she cant fool him bc he's REALLY good at reading ppl.

I think s4 is the best place to see this skill. In The Harsh Light of Day, in order to piss her off while they fight, he keeps making comments about Buffy's sex/love life right after she was used by Parker, which folds into all her Angel-related trauma.

In Something Blue (the kiss the librarian mug scene), Buffy and Giles are talking about Willow getting over losing Oz and Spike is the only one who can tell that she is NOT getting over it, and is only pretending to be in a better place. Instead of suggesting that they do something to help her, he makes fun of them for not noticing what he (an outsider) can see.

In The Yoko Factor, he helps Adam via emotional trickery, causing rifts between the scoobies by poking at what they each worry the others think about them (Xander feels directionless/useless, Willow is unsure how ppl view her sexuality and feels she has to be useful to be loved, and Giles is worried he's not needed as Buffy's watcher anymore). He's a manipulator, and the best manipulators are those who can exploit the emotions ppl try to keep hidden, which is what Spike is good at seeing.

This is one of Spike's best traits, and he uses it for good fairly often (mostly with Buffy and Dawn but with others too) especially (but not exclusively) after he gets his soul back. And while his ability to see through ppl's fronts is part of why he is good for buffy, who constantly puts up a front of being ok when she's not, it is not something he does only with her.

He does work as a shadow-self/reflection of Buffy, especially in season 2, so they are thematically linked, but his understanding of her comes more from his intelligence and experience with slayers rather than some sort of fate that drives them together.

This is the moment. The reverse echo. The rope of time braiding itself backwards.

Perfect.

[firefliesoul-corner]

Hello it’s nice to talk to you 🩵💙 love your digital parents fanfic. Now for my question what are some fun scenarios that you have in mind for digital parents? I think it would be hilarious Phainon and reader, purposely miss lede people into thinking they adopted an actual human child, that they were co parenting instead of a tamagotchi. X3

Hiii thank you for the question i'm glad you enjoyed the firts part of my work, it's the first time for me ^^

That's actually sooo fun to think about, i was actually thinking to write something like that at first but i didn't so i think it's fair if i leave it here as a scenario ;3

After a bit of convincing, you and Phainon became digital parents together, so you decided to play a little prank on your friends.

Aglaea was petrified as she looked at both of you, not really knowing what to say. You became parents? What? How?

"So, we became parents; we are so excited to do this together," Phainon grinned at you as he put a hand on your shoulder, lightly squeezing it.

"Yeah, it wasn't easy to make this decision, but Phainon insisted sooo much I just couldn't say no," you giggled, looking back at him.

"Wait, wait!" she stopped you both as she put her hands up in front of you. "How did this happen exactly?...I mean, I get you were getting close, but this? Do you even know what you are doing?"

She started yapping, almost scolding you for being so impulsive. She couldn't believe something like that. You weren't even together! How would you even be planning to raise a CHILD—no, scratch that—how in the world did you even manage to adopt a child in the first place??

In the meantime, Tribbie was witnessing all of this from behind the counter of the shop, noticing you and Phainon grinning like two idiots at each other, as Aglaea was out of it. She had already understood your little prank, but why were you saying you became parents out of the blue? It was pretty weird for a prank.

"Hey, Agly, calm down now..." she tried to say.

"How can I calm down? Did you even hear what they are saying??" She was sooo out of it; she went full "mom mode" on you, and there was no turning back.

Phainon, on the other hand, was trying so hard not to laugh, a hand covering his stupid smile.

"What a childish idiot," you thought.

Not that you were any better. You agreed on his idea as soon as he proposed to pull a prank on Aglaea. Something about pulling her leg was just so tempting, especially with Phainon.

"What is all this commotion about?" A grumpy voice echoed from the entrance of the shop—oh boy, that was Midey. Things were going to get more chaotic pretty soon.

Aglaea explained everything that you had said to him, trying to get the blonde man to help her make you understand their foolish idea.

Midey went silent, his expression unreadable as he looked at Phainon. "What the hell, Deliverer, don't doom (Y/N) with your sorry ass like that!"

"What is that supposed to mean?!" Phainon snapped back.

"How do you even plan to raise a child? (Y/N) would probably do most of the job."

"Well, you don't know that!"

"(Y/N), leave this idiot! He doesn't know what he is saying, he bearely can take care of himself!"

That's it. You couldn't hold it any longer; you just burst out laughing. The situation was getting far too ridiculous, between Aglaea's scolding, Tribbie's attempt to calm the situation down, and Midey and Phainon's little fight.

In the end, you had to apologize and explain that, yes, you had become parents, but not parents of a child. You were parents of your little pixel of joy, Iris, your little Tamagotchi, your digital pet. Useless to say that both of you had to work double to repay for the scare.

I wrote this down on the moment, but it was so fun, i love their chaotic dynamic, thank you for the suggestion ^^

Credits: diveders: cafekistune

Wrote by me pls don't steal or repost it on any other social, don't feed this to AI.