#sao angst

[bluerosesinthenightsky]

Yujikiris Imma bout to do what is called a pro-gamer feels move.

Let's talk flower language.

First let's start off with the number of flowers.

A bouquet of three roses means “I love You”

Now, we look at the color of the roses. Which are blue.

When it comes to love, a blue rose symbolizes mystery and a longing for the impossible.

Blue roses represent yearning, mostly towards someone out of reach, or for a relationship that cannot be fully realized for many reasons. Such as unrequited love, or because the person they love is no longer among the living.

Blue roses have essentially become a representation of the mysterious and the unattainable.

Blue Roses are Eugeo's whole motif, and his and Kirito's bond are the heart of the entire Alicization plotline.

A blue rose is what Eugeo is to Kirito. Eugeo is unattainable, because he's gone. Kirito can't get Eugeo back.

Eugeo is the pinnacle of someone Kirito loved and then lost.

I don't care what anyone else says, Kirito loved Eugeo and in turn Eugeo also loved Kirito in his own way, and that is not up for debate. There was something deeper than friendship going on between them, and anyone who denies that is a blind fool. There are so many subtle hints, metaphors, and scenes alluding to something more than platonic love between the two of them.

There was a deeper kind of love there, something that cannot be truly defined. It was a love that transcends all explanation. The love they shared is something that you could never put a label on.

I love them so much and my heart hurts for them. Eugeo should have fucking lived. Just... fuck. Let Kirito be happy! Give him his best friend and beloved Eugeo back. This is why I love the Lycoris video game, cause Eugeo lives.

[annisassintchaska]

Neymar Jr x Black!Reader (Zaeli): Like A Hostage

Zaeli and Neymar were childhood sweethearts who eventually got married, even after his 'accidental' infidelity. Neymar had cheated once with Carolina and got her pregnant when they had Davi. Zaeli forgave Neymar and moved on from it as they got married though there was a catch...Zaeli was forced by Neymar and his dad to sign a prenup stating that they couldn't get divorced unless Neymar was the one who filed for it. That alone should have been the FIRST BIGGEST RED FLAG going into the marriage...Zaeli IGNORED IT!!!!

Neymar was well behaved for the first few months of their marriage until after the honeymoon had ended. he bravely strides into their family home, hand in hand with Bruna Marquezine where he revealed that they were dating- despite her knowing he was married. Their relationship was toxically on and off for six whole years while Neymar ignored the existence of his wife whose only comfort was her stepson that she loved and treated as her own- Davi Luca.

After Neymar's relationship with Bruna ended, he tried to convince Zaeli that they should go back to being husband and wife, but she wasn't having it as she demanded he sponsored her a seven-year vacation. When she left, he was devasted for a while before picking himself back up, but trouble came in the form of another Bruna. Bruna Biancardi also knew that Neymar was married but didn't reject him, resulting in her giving birth to his daughter Mavie. Zaeli doesn't use social media and doesn't read or watch the news, so she found out about Mavie from Neymar's dad through a phone call where he lied saying that Neymar and Bruna were not together and were just coparenting.

A few months later, karma got to Bruna when it was announced that Neymar had welcomed his second daughter- third child Helena with a woman named Amanda Kimberly. Zaeli has no knowledge of the third child or that Bruna was still living with her husband in their matrimonial family house, so how do we think she will react when she returns from her holiday earlier than expected to an extra infant and a woman that she was told (lied to) that was gone?

[www-librarytearoom-com]

"Kazuto. The boy who looked at her as if she held the world. The first person to ever do that. The boy who Asuna would later on swear an oath to protect, and would continue to keep safe for the rest of her life.

She was in for a ride."

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

This is just a small snippet from my new fanfiction: a Sword Art Online role reversal, which I intend to finish. It will include all arcs and will follow the general canonical plot, with quite a lot of adjusting from me. However, I intend to spread equal development between both Asuna and Kirito, despite Asuna being the hero of this story.

Kirito will still be joining the Moonlit Black Cats.

I have a lot of experience with psychology, and I intend to include this within my writing in order to make sure everything is presented accurately. I also hope to make this all the more enjoyable by making THESE KIDS ACT THEIR AGE. They will still be their same old selves, but of course they're going to be having some good old teenage humour.

A lot of our characters will be LGBTQ. Including but not exclusively to: Bisexual Kirito. Because no one can tell me that boy ain't queer.

Find this fanfic on Archive of Our Own.

Title: My Little Bit of Happiness

My AO3 Account: LibraryTeaRoom

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

[darkedgey]

So I may have made an angsty edit of Kirito with a hint of Yujikiri and Kirisuna. 🥹🥹

[thegayfromrulid]

I only exist to be a jerk. Chapter 3 of Oasis is up now!

[madelynn-sienna]

coney island p. I (max verstappen x reader)

[ navigation / requests / guidelines ]

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★ prompt: ❛❛ what's a lifetime of achievement? if I pushed you to the edge? ❜❜ ★ pairing : max verstappen x reader ★ face claim : lily collins (+ one picture of kelly piquet and margot robbie each) ★ genres : angst ★ a/n : this will be a two-part hurt/comfort story inspired by the song coney island. be rest assured while this half is quite sad, the second half will make up for the angst and we will get a happy max x yn ending! also, per some creative liberty i took, max is only 23 years old here (he started racing in 2019, won his first gp in 2021 and was in school with the reader before he dropped out to pursue racing full time). ★ feedback and requests are always appreciated!

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ

liked by yourinstagram, redbullracing, landonorris and others

maxverstappen simply lovely race 🏆 what an amazing weekend and victory in jeddah, thank you all for your incredible support 🇸🇦

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yourinstagram another fabulous performance #mv01 🔥🔥🔥

redbullracing incredibly strong race today, a 1-2 finish is all we could have asked for 💙

user1 tu tu tu du max verstappen! user2 fastest pit stop too.

yourinstagram made me so proud max, ik houd van je 💕

maxverstappen ik hou ook van jou mijn liefste ❤️ user3 they said they loved each other in dutch. user4 he also called her 'his sweetheart' 🥹 user5 max and yn are literally the it couple on the circuit rn. user6 right? three time world champion and a bestselling author. user7 they so need to make a movie about it. user8 or a book, imagine a twisted lies style drama 😭

ruthbuscombe the strategy 💯

landonorris congrats mate!

maxverstappen thanks. user9 we're waiting for a win from you too lando! user10 this aged well haha

schecoperez ¡bien hecho!

user11 presenting our four time world champion everyone!

user12 we're only on the second race of the season 😭 user13 i mean if last year's anything to by, that's enough.

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text exchanges between yn & max dated 23/07, 02/08 and 04/08.

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liked by yourbestfriend1, lilymhe, francisca.cgomes and others

yourinstagram it's supposed to be fun, turning twenty-one...

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user1 faster than the flying dutchman?

user2 yoo-hoo, @.maxverstappen where are you? user3 right? like he's usually the first one here...

carmenmmmundt happy birthday🥂

danielricciardo happy 21 yn 🍾

user4 why isn't max in the pictures?

user5 he's been busy with the belgian gp! user6 dude, that finished on sunday — it's the next saturday. user7 he's prolly just really stressed, he hasn't won since canada. user8 yeah, but yn through him a massive party last year. user9 so? circumstances were different... she isn't busy 24/7. user10 she literally has a job.

alexandrasaintmleux belle fille❣️

charlesleclerc joyeux anniversaire 🎉

user11 that caption's giving me bad vibes...

user12 me too! user13 its from all too well, that's such a sad song 😭 user14 i wonder why she chose it? user15 this better not be a sign.

user16 seriously? where is max, it's been 24 hours...

user17 check their stories, they're like done done. user18 nooooooooo😭 user19 she gave so many signs...

Comments on this post have been limited.

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ

yourinstagram added to their story. maxverstappen added to their story.

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ

liked by charlesleclerc, redbullracing, landonorris and others

maxverstappen 5 wins in 5 races - thank you for your support in monza, baku, singapore, texas and sao paulo. you've made me happier than you know, happier than i've ever been before.

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user1 he really do be out here pretending he didn't break yn's heart.

user2 of course, he needs to maintain his bravado. user3 otherwise people, and he will realise, he messed up. user4 i can't believe he's trying to snub our girl yn.

This post no longer exists.

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liked by visacashapprb, schecoperez, maxverstappen and others

redbullracing max verstappen wins the world drivers championship 2024, after an outstanding race at the las vegas street circuit that leaves him at with a 62 point lead in the standings ❤️ 💛 💙

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user1 max, max, max, super max, max

user2 tu tu tu du max verstappen user3 i called it! i said he'd win the wdc back in jeddah 🏆

user4 were you standing in the hallway with a big cake? happy birthday.

user5 of course, he just painted yn's bluest skies the darkest grey. user6 you are getting pressed for a breakup you know zero about! user7 max literally said it in his interviews and his statement. user8 they broke up because he was too busy. user9 ergo, he wasn't there for her, not even on her birthday!

lewishamilton amazing work - congratulations max

user10 what a goat ❤️

danielricciardo maaaax verstappennnnn! four time world champion.

user11 why'd I read that like pierrreeee gaslyyyyy? user12 me too😭 daniel's an icon.

fernandoalonso ¡muchas felicidades!

user13 real question here is, what's a lifetime of achievement?

user14 especially when he pushed her to the edge. user15 right like did you see her in miami, she looked so sad😭 user16 we all know she was just too nice too leave. user17 i'd have dumped his ass ages ago.

user17 definition of a LEGEND

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liked by f1wags, yourinstagram, aston martin and others

f1 🚩 Red flag in the Abu Dhabi as Max Verstappen suffers a huge crash. The medical rescue team is currently trying to get the Red Bull driver away the resultant debris and fire as safely as possible.

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[tsukiran]

best offer ー brazil!hinata shoyo x reader angst/comfort

"Wait for me?"

His words rang in your ears as soon as you heard of the news. His friends reassured you over and over again. Even banned you from social media momentarily. Just until the news is clear.

You're waiting at an airport in Sao Paulo, as what he had planned weeks ago. Both about to do your Europe trip with his friends waiting in the starting city of your itinerary. Both about to spend your anniversary vacation. Both about toー

Your sob seeped through your system as your anxiety heightened.

"Have you checked your baggages?"

"Yes baby. A check-in baggage and a carry on. 10 sets of outdoor clothes. 3 of formal, rest are casual."

"Your toiletries?"

"We're sharing our toiletries for over 4 years already, baby." You heard his deep chuckle. "That's not gonna change until I die okay?"

What happened? Shoyo, just pick up..

"Bakayama and Oikawa-san's gonna get me if we're a flight late and not together. Wait for me, okay?"

Shoyo's supposed to be plane crashed somewhere enroute Sao Paulo. He was from an away game and just last night he told you about their win and coming home to your arms. He's a flight late but it didn't matter now. Sao Paulo's volleyball star all-rounder Hinata Shoyo is believed on board that crashed plane and all of the state is already on fact checking. It's been 2 hours.

You jumped upon your phone ringing, fidgeting hands pawed at Kenma's video call.

"Breathe." He said over the line after talking over calming you. "He's fine. Shoyo's fine. Trust me."

You nod, then sobbed, phone on your forehead as you broke down. Familiar voices were calling you on the other line easing your tension but heck, you can't as long as Shoyo's not here with you right now.

"Can't we go to Sao Paulo, Kenma? Yn's alone."

"Kenma, you can finance us."

"I already booked tickets for me and Iwaizumi-san."

"What about us!?"

"Yn needs calm people right now."

"Iwa-chan! We are calmー"

"Yeah right."

You tuned them out. You can care less who's gonna be here. All you wanted was Shoyo.

A chilling hour passed before the Brazil media went into a rushing chaos. You thought it was someone else they were waiting but when you saw a bright orange disheveled hair weaving across rows of media, you broke down again and got rooted in your place.

But you waited. You waited for him to reach you in your spot.

He ignored all of the media and when he spotted you, he dropped everything and directly made a beeline to you, crashing your head to his chest, comforting arms around you. Your arms may be crashing his torso right now but you don't care. He's here already.

"You're late, Shoyo."

"Well," His sniffles were audible along with his hoarse voice, all above his chuckle. "Plane's rude, baby. Left with me still in the toilet seat. And you forgot to mention my charger and wallet. When we settle down for our flight to Italy, I'm sorry but we have to reorganize my stuff."

You buried your face in his chest further, chuckling and crying. "Thought you're gonna make me wait forever."

He kissed your crown, above all the noise of the media and their flashing cameras. "Will never gonna happen. I have to have you with me all the time from now on. What do you say?"

Honestly? That's the best offer he gave you. But you have to give him a mouthful before that for being so clumsy.

quick whip after the plane crash in Sao Paulo yesterday. my condolences to all grieving families. will include you all in my prayers tonight.

ran2024. hearts and reblogs are appreciated.

[stellayuta]

Racing Hearts! - F1 Driver! Gojo Satoru (A LOTG spinoff)

synopsis: Ferrari sensation Gojo Satoru dominates headlines and social media with his unmatched driving prowess and intriguing personal life. Yet, beneath the surface, Gojo harbors a secret that could shake up the F1 world. An unrelenting F1 journalist, determined to unearth the truth, becomes his unexpected adversary—one who might finally expose the enigma that is Gojo Satoru.

content: formula one x jujutsu kaisen, eventual enemies to lovers, angst, themes of isolation, mental health themes, swearing

author's note: I've decided that we all deserve F1 Gojo as much as we deserved F1 Yuta. Hope the jjk and formula one fans enjoy this. This will be much more drama packed than LOTG. Keep following along!

word count: 2k

When the strongest roars across the asphalt, the crowd sees burning red

-

Satoru Gojo lounges lazily on his plush, red velvet, king-sized bed, eyeing his mail with curiosity. He holds a dainty pink envelope up to the light, squinting to make out the words through the paper screen. Carefully, he tears it open, revealing a letter and a photograph: a glossy snapshot of one of his closest friends and fellow drivers, Yuta Okkotsu. Yuta, dressed in a sleek, emerald tuxedo, is smiling dreamily at his fiancée, who is cradled in his arms in a princess carry. They look good, Gojo thinks. Yuta has regained his glow over the past year; in fact, he seems to have put on a few pounds of healthy weight.

Gojo fishes out the letter next. Dyed a flowery shade of baby pink similar to the envelope and stamped with red words, it reads: We are getting married, and you are invited!

Bummer. He was 99.9% sure he'd be asked to officiate. But alas.

He shakes his head comically as he reads further.

"Kindly do not bring any gifts, only your blessings. If you feel like gifting something, please donate to a charity of your choice!"

Tacky much. If he were in their place, he definitely would have asked for extravagant gifts. But given how Yuta's brain works and how much his fiancée mirrors him, Gojo isn't surprised in the slightest.

What does surprise him though is the last line in the letter, highlighting the best man and the maid of honor. The best man isn't his mates from his early racing days, Geto or Gojo. But Inumaki...

"Seriously, Okkotsu?" Gojo gawks at the letter dramatically and then shoves it away from him. Must be nice. To have a small circuit of friends, a good team, a hot fiancée, a quiet, successful life.

Must be nice.

He skeptically eyes the collection of trophies that decorate the wall opposite to his bed. Some golds from Melbourne, Suzuka, Sao Paolo, Silverstone. A few silvers and bronzes from the American and Asian legs. No driver's championship yet.

Gojo joined Ferrari at just 20 years old as their golden boy, and now, after eight years with the team, he had experienced many successful runs—but never a victory. He had finished second six times until Okkotsu entered the scene and began dominating the field, pushing him to third in the championship standings. Despite his outwardly charismatic and confident persona, the pressure of failing to deliver Ferrari their long-awaited win gnawed at him like a thousand needles.

The prince of Ferrari was yet to become their king. But perhaps, the prince will never grow up enough to be a king.

He tries to shoo the depressing thoughts away. There is no time for depression during the long-awaited summer break.

He needed to get out of the house, that would do the trick.

Gojo swings his legs out of bed, stretching lazily as his bare feet sink into the soft, imported carpet beneath him. His house, perched on a hill overlooking the sparkling Mediterranean Sea, is a gleaming example of his lavish lifestyle in Monaco. The sleek, modern architecture—glass walls, sharp lines, and white stone—gives it a futuristic edge. Even the driveway has an air of luxury, with its tasteful selection of Italian sports cars parked under the evening sun.

The dusk is warm, the salty breeze from the sea cutting through the air, ruffling his silver hair and putting on his sunglasses as he steps out of the front door.

*ka-chick*

"Huh?" Gojo's ears perk up and he looks around to see where the sound came from. Usually, paparazzi hunt their prey in a herd. They are easily recognizable by their incessant catcalling, comments and the barrage of flash noise. Maybe this was a newbie or a paparazzo gone rogue. Gojo shrugs, strikes a pose or two for this invisible photographer and continues on his merry way.

He isn't in the mood for the clubs or the cabarets today. He mostly certainly would prefer a quiet, inconspicuous bar though. He is not much of a drinker, hell he won't even drink the champagne he pops on the podium - but a bar is a perfect place to be incognito. The dim ambience and drunk people - no one would notice him.

He almost passes a shoddy looking establishment and decides to enter it. To his massive relief, it is rather empty. There a blue LEDs lining the bar counter and the ceiling. There's about two couples snogging in the dark corners of the bar and a few lone souls scattered about, too drunk in their sorrows and the alcohol to look up.

So, it's that kind of place. It might be poetic for him to be there, satoru thinks.

Gojo settles into a dimly lit corner of the bar, reclining into the worn leather booth with a relaxed yet cynical smirk. His sunglasses, still perched on his nose despite the low light, reflect the faint blue glow from the LED strips. It’s not a place one would expect to find a Formula 1 superstar like him, and that’s exactly why he’s here. Tonight, he just wants to vanish.

He signals for the bartender, a gruff-looking man with a thick beard and tired eyes. “Vodka, neat,” Gojo says, voice low and lazy. The bartender nods and moves without a word, leaving Gojo to his thoughts.

As he waits, his mind circles back to Yuta. That damn wedding invitation. It shouldn’t bother him, but it does. Yuta Okkotsu—once the rookie he used to coach on the finer points of track politics—had come into his own. Not only was he dominating on the track, but now he was settling down, tying the knot, living the kind of balanced life that Gojo had never allowed himself to dream of. Gojo could dominate in any social setting, but in his private moments, he always felt like something was missing—like he was playing a role, never truly himself.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. Gojo pulls it out, half-expecting spam but instead, it’s a message from an unexpected friend.

Geto Suguru: Get the invite yet?

Gojo satoru: Sure did. Gonna go?

Geto Suguru: Well, of course. Won't you?

Gojo Satoru: I'm having second thoughts. After he picked Inumaki as his best man. What speech is Inumaki even going to give, I swear I've never heard him speak!

As Gojo waits for a reply, the bartender slides him a stout glass full of clear liquid, reeking of spirit. Gojo takes a small sip that burns his palate and throat. He never drinks, what was he thinking.

He tries savoring the bitter aftertaste and the buzz hitting his brain as he sees the shadows on his tables shift.

He looks up from under his sunglasses and stares at you who is blocking the light from reaching his table completely. His eyes narrow as he tries to make out your features through the dim, blue-lit haze of the bar. It takes him a second to register who it is, but when he does, his expression lights up, though the usual cocky grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Well, well, well..." He sings. "Look who's here."

You don't reply back and take a seat across him. The leather on your seat is cracking and reeks of smoke. Could Gojo have not picked a better place to sulk in.

His eyes crinkle at their edges as you notice a slight shift in his expression. He appears to be pitying you.

"Out for my blood again, you leech?" he asks flatly, taking another sip of his drink. You don't recall him being a drinker from your years worth of notes.

"There are better things to drink." you reply, matching his tone as the bartender appears at the table again.

"Ah, miss, anything for you?"

"A bloody mary, please."

"On your tab right, sir?" the bartender looks at Gojo.

"Hell to the NO!" He snaps. "Put her drink on her tab!"

The bartender grimaces at Gojo and leaves, mumbling.

"They'll think you're a monster. Couldn't even pay for his woman's drink?" You prod Gojo, trying to make him break.

"As if anyone would ever think I'd be dating you. Don't embarrass yourself. What do you want from me now?" Gojo demands, crossing his arms against his chest after removing his sunglasses. His piercing blue eyes refuse to look away from you.

"The people need to know... I need to do my job." you state.

"They know enough. They don't need to know any more."

You quickly bring out a notepad, a recorder and press record on it.

"Any comments regarding rumors surrounding your transfer?"

At that moment, you witness the color leaves Gojo's face.

"W-What transfer? I am unsure what you're insinuating here."

"The rumor mill says you will be leaving Ferrari soon due to unsatisfactory performance and unreasonable team strategy. I'll quote you, please say something."

"You can't put those words in my mouth, all of that is-"

Gojo clears his throat and realizes he's now screaming, almost upright on his chair. He sits back to down.

"I am dedicated to Ferrari and their mission to win for this rest of 2024. That's all. Thank you."

You swiftly stop recording and lean over the table.

"So, what after 2024?"

"It's none of your business."

"I told you... this is my job."

"Y/N." His voice softens. "It's been nearly 7 years now. Can you not find any other driver to stalk?"

"I'm fine even if you report about my personal life." He continues. "That's less stressful than all of this."

Gojo's eyes, once sharp with irritation, soften as he leans back in his chair. His posture relaxes slightly, though his fingers still tap impatiently against the glass in his hand. The tension in the air between the two of you is palpable—years of history, unresolved tension, and unspoken words that neither of you have ever truly addressed. His last remark lingers in the dim light of the bar.

“Seven years, huh?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “And yet, here we are. You, still the untouchable star, and me, still chasing after the story that no one else can seem to tell.”

Gojo chuckles, though it lacks the usual arrogance. “Untouchable star? More like a dimming one. I can see it in your eyes. You think this is it for me, don’t you? That I’m washed up. A wasted talent. You can write about all that.”

You don’t reply immediately, watching him instead. The Gojo sitting across from you is different from the man you first met seven years ago. He was all fire and flash back then, burning too bright to let anyone close. But now, the cracks in the façade are starting to show. The endless pressure, the failure to deliver Ferrari’s long-awaited championship, and the gnawing sense of inadequacy have worn him down, whether he admits it or not.

“I don’t think you’re washed up,” you finally say, leaning back in your seat. “But I do think you’re scared.”

His blue eyes narrow slightly, the playful glint fading. “Scared? Of what?”

“Of what happens if you’re not the Satoru Gojo anymore. Of what happens when the lights go out, and the fans move on to the next rising star. What happens when you’re not Ferrari’s golden boy anymore?”

Gojo is speechless for a second after which he downs the remnants of his Vodka.

"I will resign before that happens." he declares.

"And you-" He gets up finally, covering the distance between you and him in a single stride, grabbing your jaw as he looks down at you.

"Move the hell on. It's been seven years. Get a life."

And with that, he pays for both of your drinks, takes his leave - the bar door chiming as it swings shut behind him.

"You are wrong Satoru." you whisper to yourself, letting go of the breath you were holding.

"Seven years. I have waited seven years for this."

You shimmy out your laptop from your bag and prop it open on the table. Quite a few curious eyes turn to see you.

*email sent!*

To be continued.....

[sbdskate]

Laws Of Attraction (Part 5) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings: language, angst, mature themes

Word Count: 4,371

A/N: In a shocking turn of events, this is in fact not the last part. I really wanted to put something out there this week but I’m still not quite finished with the last bit of the story. That being said, I think I found a good break point. I’m not even going to jinx myself by saying the next part is going to be the last, so TBD. Thank you again for your support. Please don’t be a ghost reader, and please feel free to comment or DM with any positive or constructive feedback. Enjoy!  

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue 1

You woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. Perhaps that was your fatal flaw all along. The entire time you spent trying and failing to suppress and divert your feelings for the driver, you would have been better served leaning into them and letting them go in a controlled space.  

In clearing the air with Daniel, you felt a weight lifted. You were still shocked by the revelation that the feelings were mutual at least in part, but there was comfort and stability in the understanding that had been reached. The lightness allowed you to finally stand in your confidence and share in the excitement of the next phase of negotiations. The season would be over in less than a month, with only two races left including Brazil. You were grateful for the light at the end of the tunnel.

You discreetly made your way to Red Bull hospitality on Thursday morning, bright and early in Sao Paolo before the chaos of media day began. There was only an admin there who greeted you showed you around. You made yourself comfortable in the empty kitchen area, where it was immediately obvious the difference in resources. It felt opulent yet comforting, especially compared to the aggressive orange and sparse theme of McLaren. Then again, spending any excessive time around McLaren hospitality or their garage nowadays just made you depressed and resentful.

It was early, even for you, and you desperately needed to caffeinate before the meeting. You saw the coffee machine, but no mugs in sight. You began opening drawers and cupboards in search of a vessel, cursing Christian Horner in your head. You finally found them, but of course they were on one of the upper shelves. You strained your body to extend as far as it would go, everything you needed just out of reach. While adjusting your balance on your tiptoes, you felt a warm body press against you and a shadow of an arm reaching over you. You closed your eyes and sharply inhaled, relishing the pressure on your back and the smell of familiar cologne. You opened your eyes again when he peeled away from you.

“I think you were looking for this?” Daniel handed you a mug. You took it, feeling your fingers brush again. The epiphany you had earlier was dispelled in an instant. Engaging in self pleasure may have acted as a momentary release, but it did not subdue the feelings that had taken firm root over the last few months. Masturbation was simply a light pruning for the sturdy tree that now grew in your garden that refused to be moved by earthquakes or hurricanes.   

“I could’ve gotten it,” you grumbled avoiding eye contact. You had told yourself you had no reason to feel awkward about the other night, but you felt yourself shrinking in his presence nonetheless. His voice went up several decibels and he batted his eyes to mock you.

“Good morning, Daniel! Thanks so much for helping me! Good morning to you too, no problem, so happy I could help.” You rolled your eyes.  

“Good morning. I promise I’ll be nicer in ten minutes once I’ve had my coffee.” You haphazardly raised your empty mug. He raised his hands and backed away, a small smirk on his face, but did not leave. He found a seat elsewhere in the kitchen, and you felt his eyes on your back as you went about your business.

You locked eyes when you turned around with a full cup. He innocently smiled and waved, while you forced an aggressive smile back. Leaning against the counter, you took a few sips of coffee without breaking eye contact. After a few minutes you joined him.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

“Are you done being a cunt?”

“Are you done being a douche canoe?” He snorted.

“I guess not.”

“Likewise.” You paused. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to be here so early before the meeting.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. Me neither. I’m excited, I think. And a little nervous.” He looked like a child on his first day of school, fidgety and unable to contain the energy requiring release. He couldn’t help the growing smile on his face. It was contagious, and you quickly found yourself smiling too.

“You should be – excited! Not nervous,” you quickly clarified. He looked down while he continued to bounce his knee.

“What if I make the wrong choice again?” he timidly whispered, though it could have been a question directed at you or the universe. It was no secret that many thought him leaving Red Bull in 2018 was the worst professional decision Daniel Ricciardo ever made, his short stint with Renault followed by his experience with McLaren as evidence. However, hindsight is 20/20. Perhaps he had too much hubris at the time, but he very validly thought he was being forced into a second driver position. How could he have known the series of unfortunate events that would follow? You did not fight the urge to hold his hand this time, gently placing yours on top of his in the middle of the table as you leaned in.

“There is no wrong choice this time,” you whispered back.

You truly believed that Daniel was in a win-win situation. Mercedes was a well-oiled, professional machine. The relationship there would be a symbiotic one. You thought they could help ground and focus Daniel, while Daniel could improve their public image and perhaps allow them to shed their somewhat stuffy, mechanical persona. Moreover, it would represent a clean slate with a new team. Conversely, you couldn’t deny how poetic a return to Red Bull would be. The place where Daniel spent so many years at the beginning of his career, it would be a momentous homecoming.

The Red Bull kitchen was quiet and empty. He looked at your hand. You were about to pull away but he lightly took hold of it before you could.

“Thanks,” he said in a soft voice to match the soft smile that graced his features.

“Of course. You know I’m always here for you.”

“I know.” He lazily rubbed your fingers with his thumb.

“Do you want to go over anything before the meeting?” You feebly attempted to redirect the conversation to be more professional, but you both knew there was no real effort as neither of you moved.

“Not really. I feel good this time.”

You remained in comfortable silence for a beat, lost in the exchange of energy that passed through one another. Your phone buzzed, pulling you away from the moment temporarily. Your face fell slightly. He looked at you expectantly.

“Well, you’re stuck with me today. The partner’s tied up with something.” You raised your gaze to meet his, searching for some kind of approval. He feigned distress.

“Oh no, what will I do? You’ve only handled 70% of this whole process on your own.” You squinted, skeptical of his confirmation.

“You trust a meager, low level associate to handle the entire trajectory of your future?”

“At this point, I trust you with my life.”

It was hard to tell whether he was being overdramatic for comedic effect or genuine. Foot steps in the distance pulled you from your trance, your hands quickly recoiling. With his back to the entry, he didn’t miss the chance to give you a wink and a smile that made you want to melt into the floor. Instead, you rolled your eyes in response but your bashful smile gave you away. You stood up when you saw your expected hosts enter.

“My two favorite people!”

“Good morning, Christian. I appreciate it, but you know flattery doesn’t work with me,” you quipped as you shook hands. When he wasn’t pissing off the rest of the grid, Christian really was quite the charmer when he wanted to be.

“On the contrary, it will get you everywhere.” The smile didn’t leave his face when he turned to Daniel, arms wide open. Their energy was well matched as they embraced in a warm hug. As happy as the driver was last week with his points finish, he seemed immensely more comfortable now.

When they separated, Christian looked at you again.

“What is this? Coffee and no Red Bull?” he teased.

“Sorry, had a bad experience in law school with energy drinks I’m afraid. Nothing personal. Though I was beginning to wonder whether the coffee machine was for decoration only.”

“They hide the mugs on purpose,” Daniel chimed in. Given the dimply smile and his tone, you would think he was joking but knew he was absolutely telling the truth.   

“He leaves for four years, comes back, and thinks he owns the place and can share company secrets.”

You had seen it several times now, but it amazed you how easy their relationship seemed. Although technically Mercedes was not out of the question, you already knew where Daniel’s heart was. It was now just a matter of ironing out the details.

Christian and the Red Bull lawyer joined you at the table in the kitchen. It was a nice change of setting, the informality of it made the weight of the discussion feel a bit lighter. The process with them was easy, especially compared to McLaren and even Mercedes. While it was slightly less formal, at all times you felt respected. Not once did anyone assume you were an admin or paralegal, which admittedly is a low bar. But even beyond that, especially with the partner’s absence, you were never treated as a subordinate and your professional capabilities were never called into question. Of course this process was not about you, but in your opinion you believed choice of outside counsel was an extension of the type of work environment your client could expect. Red Bull had been a pleasant surprise in this respect.

It was all smiles when you exchanged handshakes as you parted ways. You and Daniel were shown out the back door to avoid a few media that had just started to arrive at the paddock. You walked behind the teams’ hospitality stations so that you could join the main entry of the paddock without raising suspicion.

“So. How do you think it went?” you casually asked. You didn’t want your own opinion to taint whatever his genuine response may be.

“Honestly… I think it went really well.” The dimply smile you had become so fond of returned to his face.

“Honestly… me too.” You allowed yourself to show your enthusiasm, feeling yourself break into a wide grin. Away and hidden from the main walk of the paddock, he grabbed your hands and you both quietly squealed and jumped up and down. After a few seconds when you stopped and regained composure, he asked:

“So, what’s next?”

“Well, that depends on you. If you think you’re ready to pull the trigger with Red Bull, you let me know ASAP and assuming we’ve already nixed any dealbreakers that would’ve been in their offer, we go through everything again with a fine-tooth comb, see if they’re able to come up on anything and sign.”

“And Mercedes?”

“We keep them in play until everything is in writing and executed. No need to have a PR disaster like Alpine.” You were, of course, referring to the unfortunate circumstances of Alpine prematurely announcing Oscar Piastri as their second driver for 2023. He chuckled as you continued walking towards McLaren. You could hear the hustle and bustle from the press getting louder as more people began to arrive. He paused just before you were about to turn the corner and enter the circus.

“I want to be at Red Bull,” he said definitively. You smiled.

“Ok then. I’ll get to work.” He gave you an encouraging fist bump before taking a deep breath, knowing this would be the last bit of downtime you both had for the rest of the weekend, reluctant to leave the nest of the quiet sanctuary you shared just behind the organized chaos.

“Shall we?”

You sighed. “No time better than the present.”

-

Brazil was an eventful whirlwind. It was no surprise to you that Daniel continued to skillfully navigate an onslaught of questions about his future in the sport on press day and the rest of the weekend. On Saturday, the two of you gossiped excitedly when Kevin Magnussen got pole in qualifying despite Daniel’s own mediocre performance. Obviously the sport was cut throat, but everyone couldn’t help but root for the Haas underdog. There was a buzz during the sprint, Daniel just out of reach of the points in p11. Unfortunately, the race itself ended up resulting in a DNF for both McLaren boys. With each day of events, Daniel’s mood seemed to sour despite the positive steps being taken behind the scenes. Of course DNF-ing on what could be his second to last race ever is not what anyone wanted. However, while you sympathized for Daniel, that’s not what you were focused on. There was the celebration of George’s first win with Lewis also on the podium, but then there was the internal team drama you watched unfold at Red Bull.  

You anxiously waited out the post-race interview process so that you could update your client. If there was any question on what the path forward was before, it became crystal clear today.

As he walked through the paddock eager to get to his drivers room for some solitude, he saw you practically bouncing on your toes. He was a little annoyed to see you in such high spirits after an abysmal race, but it also made him relax a bit.

“I should DNF more often if it makes you this happy,” he dryly joked as he approached you. You should have been used to this song and dance by now. He makes a questionably flirtatious comment, you blush and get flustered, and after a bit of fumbling you redirect course and get back to business. You knew he wouldn’t change his behavior, no matter how many times you halfheartedly scolded or ignored him. It shouldn’t make you flustered any more, but there was excitement in not knowing whether there was any truth behind it. And as much as you hated to admit it, you liked it. But that was before your conversation in Mexico, where you divulged so much about your own inner turmoil. You had made yourself vulnerable. After that, you had assumed he would stop out of respect. What was a thrill before now felt like a cruel joke at your expense.

“Very funny,” you deadpanned. “I have some important news to share with you, can we go somewhere private to discuss?”

“You’re not going to buy me dinner first?” He had said this before, but it wasn’t landing like it used to.

“You’re going to have to buy yourself a new lawyer if you keep this act up.” For someone who didn’t finish the race, he was being awfully cocky today. And by goodness, did it make you feel things.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re the one who said you wanted to be alone with me -”

“Daniel.” He usually stopped after the first rebuttal.

“Not that I’m mad at it-“

Your previous excitement began to sour in your mouth as your heartbeat quickened. You grabbed his wrist and dragged him through McLaren hospitality to his drivers room. You didn’t care who saw or what it looked like. You practically pushed him in and shut the door behind you. His eyes widened as you got in his face.

“Oh shit, is this actually happening?” he began to pull at his shirt.

“What?! No. Shut up. What is wrong with you today?”

“Oh come on, I was just joking! You know I always do this.”

“No.” You pushed your pointer finger into his chest. “Today, you’re being an ass. I don’t know if this is you acting out after a shitty race or what, but pull it together. You are not a 21 year old frat boy, you’re a 33 year old world class athlete with a fully developed frontal lobe - who is now wasting my time, and rest assured, I am billing you for it. And if you stopped your inappropriate jokes for two fucking seconds and let me do my job, I would have told you that there’s a solid chance you can be on the grid in 2024 in a fucking Red Bull. Thought you might want to know.”

You had backed him into a wall and were inches away from his face, huffing and puffing. You were so mad, that one man could make you so infuriated and horny at the same time. His eyes were still the size of dinner plates, but his expression had fallen slightly. It was his turn to blush. He had been surrounded by yes-men for so long, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been chastised like this.

“I’m sorry-” You continued, your tone somewhat more even.

“Max wouldn’t let Checo through today despite what it would mean for the driver’s and constructor’s championships because he thinks Checo purposefully sabotaged him during qualifying in Monaco. The girls are fighting which is more bad PR for Red Bull, Checo’s contract is up next year, and if this dynamic continues between the two drivers then there’s a good chance they won’t renew it.”

“That’s great news-” You cut him off again.  

“Am I a joke to you? Because I know you wouldn’t be making these comments if I was a man. I know you thought I was some secretary when we first met, but I really thought I had earned your respect throughout this process.” He looked at you now wearing the pink pantsuit you’d worn on that fateful first day.

“Can I just-”

“I’ve had to deal with so many mediocre men with undeserved self-inflated egos my entire life. I’ve dated them, I’ve been in class with them, I’ve worked with them, I’ve worked for them – especially the last five years at this godforsaken law firm. Lord knows I don’t need another one. I’ve had to work twice as hard and be better than them to prove myself as an equal. And even with all that, no matter what, as soon as I leave the room I’m the punchline of some joke I never asked or wanted to be a part of because I have boobs. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot initially but I really thought you were different. But no-”

One second you were ranting, the next you were cut off by lips crashing into yours. In your fury you missed his warm brown eyes darting between your eyes and your lips. In a flash he had grabbed the lapel of your suit jacket to bring you towards him, your hands landing firmly on his chest. Fireworks flashed behind your eyelids and for a moment you forgot what day it was, where you were, and who you were. You don’t know how long it lasted. You should have pulled away. You definitely shouldn’t have kissed back. But the taste of saline on him from the demands of the day and the scruff of his beard on your chin and cheeks made you want to stay. You smelled his cologne mixed with musk and, what was that, aftershave? Instead, he pulled away first.

You blinked a few times, jaw slack. You brought a hand to your lips, half to make sure they were still there but also for confirmation that you didn’t just hallucinate.

“Sorry, it was the only way I could think to get you to shut up so I could get a word in edgewise. If you’d let me talk, I would say I think you’re the most brilliant person I’ve ever met. You’re smart, witty, funny, and no, it doesn’t hurt that you’re as good looking as I am. You think I give a fuck about billing? I would spend my entire fortune down to nothing if it meant I got to spend more time with you. I’ve known for weeks I wanted to go to Red Bull and I didn’t tell you until three days ago because as excited as I am about figuring out what I’m doing next year, I’m equally dreading it because as soon as I sign that means you leave. When you’re not in the room I only sing your highest praises. So yes, of course I respect you. And I realize, kissing you just now may have proved your point, and I’m sorry about that. And you’re right that I’ve been a cunt today and a lot of this weekend, and I’m sorry about that too.”

There had been very few times in your life where you were left speechless, and this was one of them. It was literally your job to be good with words, and right now they failed you.  

“And I know you’re going to say ‘let’s forget that this ever happened’ and I’ll move on and get back to business, but I can promise you I won’t. I’ll never tell another soul for your sake, because I don’t want you to lose your job, but I refuse to forget this, our conversation in Mexico, or that Sunday in Austin. You’re unforgettable f/n l/n.”

You stood there in silence for a few moments. Your adrenaline was through the roof and your mind was blank. He was clearly looking for a response, yet you had none. You did your best to break the tension.

“Well if your goal was to get me to shut up, you succeeded.”

“Honestly, I’m as shocked as you are,” he said with a small laugh. There was another long pause. “I shouldn’t have said all of that, I’m sorry.” You gave him a knowing smile.

“No you’re not.” He smirked.

“Yeah, not really.” You had become particularly focused on a speck of dirt on the floor, but finally returned his gaze.

“You know nothing can happen,” you whispered. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact that was directed at yourself as much as him. You unsuccessfully tried to hide the disappointment in your voice. He refused to look away from you even when you continued to avoid eye contact.

“Yeah, I know.”

Silence descended again. There was nothing else to say. You realized through your tirade and this whole exchange you had been standing dangerously close to one another, and you hadn’t backed away after the kiss. You could feel his heartbeat on your chest, and you were pretty sure he could hear yours. You separated yourself and tried to pick up whatever pieces of dignity you had left. You straightened out your suit jacket and cleared your throat.

“I’m going to try to add some clauses in the contract for 2024 primary driver placement. They’ll almost certainly come back with red lines to make them conditional, perhaps based on Checo’s performance and/or your own performance in the sim, but Horner loves you so much that I think they’ll be receptive to the idea overall.” Your heart hurt at how crestfallen he looked.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“I’ll send you a draft before it goes to Red Bull. You can expect deliverables by tomorrow.”

“Ok.”

“Assuming everything goes smoothly, I anticipate the agreement to be fully executed by Abu Dhabi. Does that sound like a reasonable timeline?”

He was incredulous at how quickly you could shut everything off. He had spilled his heart to you and in return he received merely an acknowledgement before you put an abrupt end to the conversation. You had done it so many times before to a lesser extent that he shouldn’t have been surprised by how quickly your walls went back up, but he somehow thought this time would be different.

“Yeah,” he finally answered. “But… I want to wait until after the race. I don’t want to have to worry about sneaking away in the middle of practice or qualifying.” It was his way of saying he wanted you there for the duration of the race weekend, he had gotten used to your presence over the last three months. Despite whatever this altercation did to your relationship, professional or otherwise, he couldn’t imagine finishing the tumultuous season without you by his side. He hoped you would pick up the subtlety, but it went over your head.

“I don’t know Daniel, Red Bull probably has a million celebratory events immediately afterwards seeing as their driver won the championship and they won the constructor’s. I imagine McLaren also has a bunch of end of season events planned as well that you’ll have to attend.”

“Can we ask if they can spend an extra day in the country?”

“If you want to wait until after the season is over I totally get it, it might just be easier if we try to schedule something at Milton Keynes the following week.” For someone so smart you were also awfully dense. He tried to come up with a logical explanation that you would be willing to go along with.

“I just thought it would be smart to be able to announce this within a few days after the end of the season, where there’s still buzz and interest and before we get too far into winter break. Plus then it would give the team a few days to come up with a press release still within that timeframe.”

You couldn’t argue that such timing would be better publicity for both him and Red Bull.

“Hmm, I suppose you’re right. No promises, but I’ll reach out to Red Bull to see what their schedule is like.”  

He was satisfied with the victory, no matter how small.

“Is there anything else?” The words felt hollow as they left your mouth. He looked away, shaking his head in disbelief.

“No, I guess not,” he said in defeat. You felt terrible. There were so many things you wanted to tell him, but saying them out loud would only serve to stoke the wildfire you so desperately wanted to put out.

“I’ll see you next week in Abu Dhabi,” you said meekly. You left the room, ending the exchange in a stalemate with neither party satisfied.

Taglist: @ravenqueen27 @leslizzle @zendayabelova @eitak-t @chiliwhore @wewoo1233

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

Happier than ever

Pairing: Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt, ex!Jake

Extended Masterpost

Context: Y/N is so so so perfectly happy *practiced smile* yay marital bliss.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering for some because it’s kind of sad and angsty.

Word Count: 2.5k

Previous Track: Honeymoon (3 months prior)

Chapter soundtrack: Happier than ever – Billie Eilish

When I'm away from you, I'm happier than ever. Wish I could explain it better. I wish it wasn't true.

The London night hung heavy outside the windows of the elegant townhouse YN now called home. She sat at her desk, surrounded by scattered sheets of lyrics and half-empty coffee cups. Despite the late hour, her mind refused to rest.

Ever since returning from her honeymoon, YN had been trying her best to bury herself in work. As she sifted through the papers, her phone buzzed insistently, breaking the silence of the night.

She glanced at the screen, the number displayed unfamiliar once again. Another anonymous call, just like the countless others that had become a regular occurrence since her move to London three months prior.

With a sigh, she hit the decline button and tossed the phone aside, frustration bubbling beneath her calm exterior.

At first, she dismissed it as a nuisance, perhaps a misguided fan or a random prankster. But the calls persisted. She had tried blocking the numbers, changing her settings, everything she could think of to put an end to it, but to no avail. The rare times she’d picked up, silence had greeted her before the caller abruptly disconnected.

That night, though, she noticed something. The International dialing code seemed different from usual. A quick google search informed her it was Brazilian.

Her thoughts drifted back to a short conversation she’d had a few weeks prior. Josh. He’d mentioned the band's upcoming tour in South America.

No, YN thought, there’s just no way. She brushed off the thought.

Still, she found herself lying in bed a couple hours later, checking Greta’s Instagram account. There was just no way. Only, she was met with a photo posted just an hour before. The description read, “Thank you for a remarkable show. See you soon, Sao Paulo.”

Fuck.

--

A week later, the glow of her phone illuminated the dark bedroom. Another call, another unknown number, another international code.

With a quick glance at Harry's sleeping form beside her, YN slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb him. She tiptoed towards their bathroom and quietly locked the door behind her.

The girl leaned against the sink, her fingers trembling as she answered the call. Silence greeted her on the other end, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest.

Enough of this.

"Jake?" she tried, her voice barely a whisper. But there was no response, only the empty void that seemed to stretch on endlessly.

"Is that you?" She tried again, desperation creeping into her voice. But still, there was nothing, only the echo of her own words bouncing back at her.

Frustration bubbled up inside her, mingling with the deep-seated concern that gnawed at her from within.

“Jake, I know it’s-” the call abruptly disconnected. Her heart sank, an uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

--

For the following three weeks, YN found herself in a semi-constant state of anxiety, her eyes darting nervously to her phone at every passing moment. Nights offered no respite, each small noise in the house sending her heart racing as she scrambled to check her phone.

Finally, on yet another sleepless night, her phone lit up. American dialing code. The boys might have returned to the States before embarking on the European leg of their tour.

Silently slipping out of bed, she made her way to the kitchen and answered the call. Without surprise, she was once again greeted by silence.

After a brief moment, she spoke into the void. "Are you alright?"

There was no immediate response, only the sound of uneven breaths on the other end of the line.

"It's late," she stated firmly. "I'm going to hang up now—"

"I wanted...” the caller suddenly spoke. Her breath was caught in her throat. She’d been right. “I wanted to hear your voice," his voice was rough, his words slurred. YN sighed.

“Are you drunk?” she asked, her tone annoyed. But there was no reply, only the quiet of the night surrounding her.

Suddenly, a noise erupted from the other end of the line, a distant car horn echoing through the darkness.

"What was that?" YN's voice rose with concern. "Was that a car? Have you been driving?"

She knew too well of Jake's reckless habits, the demons that had haunted him like a shadow. The thought of him spiraling out of control in some far-off corner of the world sent a chill down her spine.

"Fucking say something," she snapped, her frustration boiling over. But before she could receive an answer, the call abruptly ended. She winced.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Panic began to gnaw at the edges of her mind as she struggled to make sense of the situation.

“Love,” a voice broke her train of thoughts, “what are you doing up?”

Harry.

“It’s Patty” YN said, turning to face him. “Go back to bed, I’ll be right behind you.”

Harry's brow furrowed with concern. "Is everything alright?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for any sign of distress.

"Yeah," she replied hastily, attempting to brush off his concern with a forced smile. "Just... schedule stuff." She shocked herself with how quickly the lies kept on tumbling out.

“Okay," Harry nodded, turning to head back to bed.

YN couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that ate at her conscience as she watched him leave the room. She hated lying to him, but she couldn't bear to burden him with the truth of her worries, not when she didn't even know how to confront them herself.

When the bedroom door clicked shut behind Harry, YN wasted no time. With trembling fingers, she dialed a number and pressed the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" Josh's voice, groggy with sleep, came through the line.

"Do you know where he is?" YN's hushed words rushed out.

"YN, it's like 1am over here, what—" Josh started to protest, but she cut him off.

"Do you know where he is?" she repeated, her tone insistent.

"Where is wh—"

"Jake," she interjected, her voice trembling. "Do you know where Jake is?"

Josh paused for a moment before responding, his voice serious. "At his place, I assume. Why? Wh-what's going on?"

YN struggled to find the words, her mind racing with a million thoughts at once. She quickly explained the situation, knowing that Josh would understand without needing further explanation.

Josh fell silent for a moment. He, too, knew the root of her concern, and understood what scared her to death.

"I'll take care of it," he assured her, his voice firm with determination. "Don't worry."

Relief flooded through YN as she hung up the phone, though she couldn't bring herself to return to bed. Instead, she sat on the sofa, her nerves on edge as she waited anxiously for an update.

 The minutes stretched into hours, and the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the window when she finally received a text from Josh.

"He's okay," it read.

Exhaustion gave way to mounting frustration and anger. That’s it? She thought. She’d been staying up all night for this shit; lying to her husband for this shit. She sighed heavily; biting the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste blood.

Fuck this.

YN texted back, “Thanks. Tell him to leave me alone.”

__

After a couple of weeks of silence, with no calls disrupting the uneasy calm, YN began to hope for long-lasting peace. She almost felt guilty for her earlier frustrations, often wondering whether Jake was doing better.

However, any hopes of tranquility were shattered when a storm erupted in the Greta Van Fleet online fandom.

A fan's comment on one of Jake's posts caught fire, igniting a frenzy of speculation. The comment read, "Okay, I was at last night's concert and let’s just say, it was not it. I feel like that's been happening a lot recently. So, what is it my man? Trouble with the fam? or did some bitch do you dirty?"

To everyone's shock, Jake had replied to the comment.

 Two words.

 "The latter."

The internet exploded, and although Jake deleted the comment an hour later, the damage was done. The news reached YN like a punch to the gut.

She couldn't believe it. To have Jake talk shit about her on the internet was a new low. Though no one outside of their inner circle knew he was referring to her, the mere implication cut deep. And there was nothing she could even do or say. Especially from halfway across the world.

YN stood on the balcony, gazing out at the sprawling London skyline, but instead of feeling captivated by its beauty, bitterness flooded her senses. Jake had somehow managed to make her hate this city. Worst, he’d made her resent Harry for simply asking her to move there. The constant rain felt like a mockery, and the distance from where she truly belonged only amplified her sense of displacement.

And the most infuriating part? She had let him. Her thoughts were blinded by anger as she put pen to paper. Even after all this time, she had allowed Jake to ruin everything good. Perhaps it was a good thing she found herself far away from him. All he seemed capable of doing was bringing her endless sorrow.

Harry, on the other hand, was the epitome of reliability. He always showed up on time. Got along with her friends, got along with Patty. Did everything right.

So why was Jake the one occupying her thoughts day and night? It was like a poison, slowly corroding the good in her life until all that was left was the bitter taste of regret and anger.

As YN stood on the balcony, her phone suddenly lit up. Jake's name. He finally had the guts to call her with his own phone.

She reached for the device, her fingers curling around it tightly. She stared at it for a moment, considering her options. She could let it ring. Or she could reply. For what, though? She thought. Some half-assed apology? Telling her how it’s all some big misunderstanding?

Without a second thought, she clenched her jaw and, with a determined flick of her wrist, let her phone drop over the railing, watching as it plummeted towards the ground below.

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the night as the device met its demise on the pavement.

It was a stupid but cathartic gesture. With a sense of finality, she turned away from the balcony, leaving behind the remnants of her broken phone and the memories it held.

--

Two weeks later.

Jake stumbled along the hotel hallway. The band had just wrapped up a show in Glasgow, which had gone rather well considering the blinding hangover that had been clinging to their lead guitarist throughout the tour. Jake had therefore rewarded himself with a local treat, that is, the now half-empty bottle of scotch in his hand. When in Rome, right?

Feeling for his keycard in his pockets, Jake cursed softly as he came up empty-handed. He decided to try the room across from his, hoping his baby brother hadn’t gone to bed just yet. He pressed his ear against the door and breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of a TV playing inside. Bingo.

With a drunken knock, Jake announced his presence before the door swung open to reveal Sam. "What's up?" he greeted.

"Lost my key," Jake mumbled, brushing past Sam and collapsing onto the nearest bed. " m’tired," he added, his words slurred from the alcohol.

However, amidst the haze of his drunken stupor, Jake noticed something amiss.

 It was too quiet.

“Why d’you turn it off?” Jake asked, curious.

“Mmh?” The bass-player replied.

“The TV” Jake specified. He had a feeling something was up.

"Oh, uh, nothing good is on right now," Sam replied nervously, his attempt at nonchalance falling flat. "British TV sucks ass," he added hastily. The youngest Kiszka had never been much of a good actor. Jake stared for a moment and Sam knew he could see right through him.

“Jake-” Sam tried protesting, but his brother had already snatched the remote and turned the TV back on. The bright light of the screen suddenly lighting up their features and the sound of laughter filling the hotel room.

There she was. Seated elegantly on the talk show couch. YN exuded confidence as she engaged in conversation with the host.

“So, tell me something,” the host leaned in, a glint of excitement in his eyes, “when are we going to get some new music?” A ripple of anticipation coursed through the audience, and a mischievous smirk danced across YN’s lips.

“Well, I actually just finished recording a bunch of tracks, so—" Before she could finish, the audience erupted into deafening cheers, their excitement palpable. “I know, I know, it’s exciting,” YN continued, her voice barely audible over the enthusiastic applause, “I can’t wait to get back on the road.”

“Back on the road?” the host raised an eyebrow, a playful tone in his voice, “Have you grown tired of Hubby already?”

YN chuckled. "Well, who says I'm not packing him in my suitcase?" she quipped. The audience laughed at her comeback.

"Talking about Mr. Harry Styles,” loud cheers exploded at the host’s mention of YN’s husband, “a little birdie told me you two just purchased a house in our fair capital, is that right?”

“Uh,” YN looked slightly surprised, feeling a pang of discomfort at the invasion of privacy, “yeah, we did get ourselves a little nest-”

“-a 9-million-pound nest” the host joked, eliciting laughter from the audience.

YN let out a polite chuckle. “Yeah, it is ridiculously grand, actually.”

“Is it your first time owning a place?” the interviewer asked.

“It is, yes, see, I’m originally from New York, so renting appartments has always been the way for me.” Jake’s mind drifted to their little apartment back in Nashville.

“Must be quite a change” the host declared.

“Kinda, yes,” she added, “it’s got a bunch of rooms that I haven’t seen in a while, like an actual laundry room, who knew that was even a thing?” the audience laughed, “and a foyer, whatever that is, and a-”

“-Nursery?” the host filled in. The audience leaned forward in anticipation.

“Well, aren’t you curious?” she said, maintaining a playful façade at the interviewer’s lack of tact, “But no, no nursery,” the audience could be heard huffing in disappointment.

“Ah well,” the host remarked, “someday soon.”

“Sure,” she replied with a forced smile, “someday.”

As Jake listened to the conversation, a thought crossed his mind: YN had always been unequivocal about her reluctance to have children. Then again, she had also once been adamant about her aversion to marriage. And yet, here she was with a ring around her finger. The bile rose in his throat.

“Well, we’re running out of time here,” the host abruptly announced, glancing at the monitor. “It’s been a real pleasure, and I think I can speak for everyone here when I say that the world is thrilled to see you embrace this newfound happiness, is that accurate?”

“Oh absolutely,” she replied with a tight smile. “I’m,” she paused, something unseen briefly flickering in her eyes, “happier than ever.”

--

YN never knew why but, after that night, the calls stopped.

--

Next Track: The Bomb

Extended Masterpost

Hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx

Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.

Taglist

@aintthatapity

@sinarainbows

@vanfleeter 

@gretavanhockey

[approximateknowledge]

having unorganised alice thoughts

there's so much going on with her character that people just ignore to do shipping instead, like, genuinely, once you start thinking about what the story must *be* like from her pov it's so fucking haunting

just like "yeah your religion is fake, your world is a simulation, so are the people in it, and you're fake *even to them* because you're built out of the tortured remains of someone else with your name and body but you can't remember being her. anyway here's a robot body we're gonna shove your little cube in (yeah that's right you're just a bunch of carbon nanotubes stuffed in a small metal cube), have fun being the subject of legal battles deciding wether or not you are a person. oh and also 200 accelerated years have passed in the simulated world you're from so basically everyone you ever knew is dead from old age. *good fucking luck*"

and she's just supposed to keep going after that

forget star king angst, *this* is the most existentially horrifying sao gets actually

[lgbtqasacrew]

Fanfic requests

Hi guys, i’m now taking fanfic requests for ofmd and good omens. I’m happy to write fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, sickfics, nsfw. See more info below

Our flag means death

Izzy x reader

Stede x reader

Ed x reader

Steddyhands x reader

Frenchie x reader

(reader will be gender neutral unless otherwise specified)

I’ll also write for these ships:

Stede x Ed

Stede x Izzy

Ed x Izzy

Steddyhands

Frenchie x Izzy

Lucius x Pete

Variations of Jim/Archie/Olu/Zheng Yi Sao

Good omens

Crowley x reader

Aziraphale x reader

Crowley x reader x Aziraphale

(Please specify if you have a preference of whether the reader is angel/demon/human)

I’ll also write Crowley x Aziraphale

If there’s a pairing not listed that you would like to see, please feel free to still send in your request and I’ll see what I can do. For ofmd, can be canon period or modern, and for good omens it will be current time unless otherwise specified in the request.

Main account

Ao3 account

[nadsdraws]

Tags: edizzy, alternate ending to ep3, MCD, angst, they love each other, attempted suicide, suicide by storm

Izzy's clutching the gun in his hand, aiming it at his own head. There's truly nothing left for him. He's lost his leg, he lost Edward, the crew didn't even want to grant him the small mercy of killing him. He has to fucking do everything himself around here. 

He's on the verge of consciousness when he pulls the trigger. At least that's what he tells himself later—he must have blacked out from the pain and blood loss. 

When he manages to crawl out on the deck later on, Edward's plan is plainly obvious to him. Just as plainly obvious is that he must be stopped.

It physically pains him but he pulls the trigger, wounding Edward on the arm, stopping him from setting the ship on fire. After that, everything happens so fast—Fang charges at Ed and Jim neutralizes him with a cannon ball. They hold the ship together until the storm passes, leaving them to a slow and painful death.

By all accounts Edward should be dead by now but Izzy doesn’t let the crew get rid of his body. He feels guilty. He feels he pushed Edward into this spiral. He goes down to the room he used to lie in not that long ago and cleans Edward's face. Tells him everything he wasn't brave enough to tell him all the years they spent together. Tells him he's sorry.

Just as well. Bonnet on Zheng Yi Sao's ship finds them not long after. Another miracle that has no right to exist. Bonnet rescues them and takes Izzy with them, which takes Izzy off guard so much he goes to thank him. He thought there would be no space for him on the ship but the crew surprises him once again, making him a brand new leg and leaving it by his door. He even sings for them in return, something he hasn't done since he met Edward.

And then Zheng Yi Sao's fleet blowing up suddenly merges with the roaring thunder of a storm and a loud sound of wood cracking—as if a ship has been torn in two two right next to Izzy's ear.

Izzy opens his eyes to see Edward bursting into his dark, filthy cabin under the deck. There might have been some fire on the deck behind him, Izzy isn't sure.

He squirms on his bed but it only makes the pain of his fresh wound shoot up his left leg. He is still holding the gun that must have knocked him out.

It was just a dream, he realises, just his pathetic little dream, baring all of his deepest wants and desires. He dreamed of being accepted by the crew, of singing to them. Or Edward saying sorry for his leg. He dreamed of Bonnet coming back because Bonnet always comes back in his dreams, but Edward left him in the end, and Izzy… Izzy was good to Ed this time round, told him he could be whoever he wanted to be.

Of course that would never happen to him. It was never real.

What's real is this musty old room reeking of sweat and blood. Of disease. Of an old man dying.

"I knew you'd wait for me." Ed says cryptically with a wild excitement in his voice.

"Eddie?" Izzy mutters.

"Shh, it's fine, it's nearly done, Iz" Edward tells him softly, sitting by the side of his bed again.

"What is?"

"Our retirement."

Izzy blinks, his vision is blurry, but Edward looks beautiful with his messy bun and smudged make up.

The only retirement we get is death.

The ship is being rocked on waves so strong Izzy never experienced before. Edward smiles to him though, looks calmly down at him. He's at peace, Izzy can tell. After everything that happened. Is this where he wanted them to end up? It doesn't matter now. They're here, they're together.

Edward weaves his hand into Izzy's sticky hair, the touch so tender Izzy leans into it without thinking, and closes his eys. He's tired, he's lived life long enough to fill a few lifetimes.

Izzy should have noticed what Edward was planning all along, should have known that he wouldn't want to go alone. It only gets to show how sloppy he's become in deciphering Edward, in guessing his moods. But this is fitting. A retirement for the both of them.

For Izzy there was never any other future.

"Our retirement," Izzy mutters back in agreement and Edward smiles and leans over to press his own lips to Izzy's.

It's the lightest of touches, not at all how Izzy would expect Blackbeard to kiss. But of course here now it's not Blackbeard, it's Eddie with him again. Bare of all the personas he claimed along the way.

Izzy kisses back with as much strength as he has left. The wind howls outside ominously, the crack of wood, the sound of mast being reduced to splinters echoing in the background.

Izzy digs his hands into Edward's shoulders, pressing him closer as the water finally blows up the walls of his cabin. For a moment there is chaos, panic surging up his veins, his body fighting to survive, but he lets it all behind.

He's at peace.

They cling to each other in the anticipation of what's to come. The captain always goes down with his ship and Izzy would never leave his captain.

My AO3

[lilydasimp]

không biết bà có ý định viết sukuna x reader x gojo không... tui bị cuồng qtqd, plot ngược tâm đi bà, ngược gojo cho anh ý đau khổ nhất có thể đi bà... 😭😭 Tình tay ba sihsjssk ngược đến cùng đi huhu

the fuc— bà có đang ngủ dưới gầm giường tui không vậy, tui đang tính plot cho sukuna x rd x gojo nè. bật mí cho bà với mọi người biết xíu nha:

𝐰: tình tay bar, spoiler xíu xiu manga jjk, angst, nsfw, torturing,...

y/n sau này chuyển kiếp thành vợ gojo, lý do cụ thể ra sao thì rồi các tình yêu sẽ rõ.

bối cảnh sẽ là chap 2 của agony (sukuna - kinktober).

-

sukuna đợi em suốt mấy trăm năm kể từ em rời bỏ nhân thế, hắn đợi, đợi, đợi rất lâu cho đến khi gặp lại em với nhân dạng của itadori. nhưng lại không thể ra tay ngay lập tức vì sức mạnh chưa đủ để đánh bại em (tức số ngón tay vẫn chưa đủ), và em lại còn là vợ của gojo. quá mạo hiểm nếu đe doạ em, nên hắn chờ thời cơ để nhắm tới em, và một lần nữa, biến kiếp này của em thành cơn ác mộng hệt như mấy trăm năm trước.

gojo không hề biết sukuna nhắm tới em, và em cũng không hay biết.

đến trận đấu giữa gojo và sukuna thì cả hai mới vỡ lẽ.

em bị sukuna trong nhân dạng của fushiguro hạ gục, hắn không giết em mà dùng em để nhử gojo. gojo vừa phải nghĩ cách cứu vợ, vừa phải tham chiến nên lâm vào thế tiến thoái lưỡng nan.

còn đoạn cao trào sẽ nằm ở phía sau. tui không spoil trước nha~

[h4lcyonism]

justice league x rwby: super heroes and huntsmen part one thoughts (spoiler warning)

- i like that this movie is set up in a way that helps explain things to dc fans who may be watching the movie, unfamiliar to rwby, it feels like what ice queendom was trying to do but actually executing it

- in the same vein as above, as someone who doesn’t know much about dc i liked how they did that for the justice league characters too, despite them clearly being the more popular and well-known ip in the crossover

- i’m not a dc person but vixen my beloved <3

- seeing dorky jaune after the wild ride that has been v9 is a delight

- the pair-ups with the rwby characters and the dc characters are oddly fitting?? i loved the friendships between jaune/jessica and nora/cyborg especially, and ofc yang simping for diana and seeing jealous blake was a treat

- the brief flashes from the main show timeline are a really interesting touch that add to the trippy timeline business

- nora most op character in the show confirmed

- the arkos angst was unexpected but you best bet i ate that shit right up, and seeing maya pyrrha in her full glory heals my heart

- i thought i would be biased in favor of clark since he’s voiced by chandler riggs but honestly?? bruce stole the show for me

- sao was my favorite anime in middle school so you can imagine how i feel about the whole “virtual reality” twist, which i honestly felt was surprising and well-executing

- “his enemies” too?? if kilgore had said “her enemies” then it would’ve been clear who was behind it all on the rwby side of things but i can’t figure who else it is if not salem

- i vastly underestimated the bumbleby content we’d be getting, i was expecting some crumbs but we got a whole buffet especially with canon v9 stuff fresh in our minds… flirty beacon bees and jealous blake is everything i could’ve asked for and the movie delivered

- THE ENDING?????? what the hell is gonna happen in the second movie………

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Lula Irks Investors in Bid to Spur Brazil Growth, Boost Approval

Inside Brazil’s presidential palace, angst is mounting as the economy sputters along, churning out tepid growth figures month after month. President Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva is ratcheting up the pressure on his top aides to boost spending, gin up faster growth and turn around his sinking approval ratings.

This, people close to him say, helps explain the decision this month to order state-run oil company Petroleo Brasileiro SA to withhold a $9 billion dividend to investors. And it explains the push to oust the head of mining giant Vale SA. The government can have Petrobras pump that $9 billion into priority energy projects instead, the thinking goes, and it can slide in a new leader at Vale who’s more focused on creating jobs and less on shareholder returns.

The moves have shocked investors. In 2023, Lula’s first year in office since he left power a decade earlier, they had gotten used to a measured, even cautious president who resisted temptations to swell the budget.

So when word on the Petrobras dividend got out, they pushed the stock down 11% in a matter of hours. The bigger question being asked on Sao Paulo trading desks now is whether these moves augur a new, riskier policy approach or whether Finance Minister Fernando Haddad will manage to convince Lula to stick to the more cautious stance that stoked rallies in Brazilian stocks, bonds and currencies in 2023. 

Continue reading.