#LIKE HE IS A SIDE CHARACTER BUT HIS STORY IS SO <333 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maxivstappen · 27 days

Text

౨ৎ WHAT A COINCIDENCE ! ‧₊˚.

౨ৎ part of my short n’ sweet series (not posted yet) ౨ৎ

smau — angst & sweet revenge

pairing — charles leclerc x reader / lando norris x reader ( fc: sabrina carpenter )

summary — charles has a habit of running back to you whenever things don’t work out between him and alex, but how long will you be willing to keep up with his shit?

warnings / disclaimer — none, just some swearing!

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　　　。

23rd August 2023 - TWITTER

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　　　。

31st August 2023 - TEXTS and TWITTER

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　　　。

4th Feburary 2024 - TEXTS

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　　　。

5th Feburary 2024 - TWITTER and TEXTS

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　　　。

6th February 2024 - @.yourusername ✓ just posted on INSTA!

liked by landonorris, sadiesink_ and 2,965,201 others

yourusername the only thing that surprised me yesterday was, in fact, the cake ✨ wouldn’t have wanted to spend it any other way — thank you for all your birthday wishes <3

view all 87,082 comments

landonorris ✓ pretty girl

-> ♥️ by @.yourusername ✓

carlossainz55 ✓ @.landonorris omg🥹 you’re growing up lando

user3 @.carlossainz55 NOT HIM SIDING WITH LANDO THIS IS SO MESSY

user1 i cannot handle everything that’s happened yesterday and today

user2 @.user1 what’s going on?

user3 @.user2 charles and his ex got together again right on y/n‘s birthday and she’s very obviously throwing shade in her caption (saying she’s not surprised because alex and charles are always on&off) + lando just called her pretty girl???

user2 @.user3 omg queen, lando should make a move

milliebobbybrown ✓ happy birthday bb

-> ♥️ by @.yourusername ✓

user4 @.milliebobbybrown eleven what are you doing here

user7 ICONIC ICON

user5 oscar and lily were there, carlos, lando, george and max were there, where the hell was charles??? he didn’t even like the post

user6 @.user5 he’s with alex again :(

user5 @.user6 WHAT

user6 @.user5 yes even worse, he left the morning of her bday to fly out to alex

user7 @.user6 nobody confirmed it stop talking shit

user8 @.user7 charles was seen at an airport just that morning + it wouldn’t be out of character for him, he’s always been like this + he wasn’t at her bday party but they were still seen together one day before + half of the grid was there but he wasn’t

user8 the caption is so ironic 😭😭

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　　　。

23rd August 2024 - @.landonorris ✓ just posted a story on INSTA! (playing: coincidence by y/n l/n)

@.yourusername replied : i love you more lan🥹

@.danielricciardo replied : i thought your obsession would stop now that you’re together but these past months have all proven me very wrong😔

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　　　。

TWITTER

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　　　。

@.yourusername ✓ just posted on INSTA!

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 5,669,069 others

yourusername what a coincidence! I’ve got a few surprises for you! first of all, my new single “coincidence” is out now! second, music video for said song is coming tomorrow ANNNNNNDDDD surprise surprise surprise!!! MY NEW ALBUM “Short n’ Sweet” COMING OUT NOVEMBER 13TH <333

view all 128,696 comments

user1 ALBUM OF THE YEAR ALBUM OF THE YEAR ALBUM OF THE YEAR

user2 i want her so bad

user3 @.user2 same

user4 IS THAT LANDO’S HEAD ON THE FOURTH SLIDE

user5 @.user4 IT IS

user6 @.user4 HE’LL BE IN HER MV I THINK

user7 @.user6 OH MY GOD

user8 i want both her and lando

user9 lmao charles in the likes👀👀

user10 probably wants her back

landonorris ✓ 🤭🤭

-> ♥️ by @.yourusername ✓

user11 @.landonorris @.charles_leclerc omg look charles!😧 it’s not that hard to interact with and post your girlfriend !!!

user12 @.landonorris PLEASE GET MARRIED HAVE KIDS PLEASE

user13 im gonna stream this til my neighbours know the lyrics by heart

oscarpiastri ✓ lando won’t shut up about you

carlossainz55 ✓ @.oscarpiastri he never will

user14 i love how they’re all friends with y/n🥹🥹

user15 oscar and carlos interaction in y/n’s comment section might be my favourite thing ever

user16 please more charles hate songs 👍

mclaren ✓ streaming rn as we speak

user17 THE ALBUM’S COMING OUT ON LANDO’S BIRTHDAY🥹🥹🥹

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　　　。

general taglist :: @norrisdriver

first smau ever !! probs not the best but i hope you like it anyway :)

2K notes · View notes

celestie0 · 7 months

Text

MASSIVE gojo x reader fanfic rec (no spoilers)

ok i know a lot of my followers are gojo girlies and i just need to put yall onto this fucking fanfiction because i just read the latest release for it and i’m genuinely tweaking rn🧍🏻‍♀️

@lostfracturess ‘s amazing work called “symptoms & causes” - a medical au

[image pulled from her masterlist]

let me just…let me just try to even gather the reasons why you need to add this to your tbr lists (weekend is comin up too so perfect time)

characterization of gojo satoru.

gojo in this fic is characterized so fucking well, from chapter one. there are so many distinctive ways miss lostfractures goes about building his aura (word of mouth/reputation, dialogue, expository, primary interactions, secondary interactions, etc.) it reminds me of the show where gojo just has this energy to him that you can't tear yourself away from i picture him in this fic to be unrelenting, unforgiving, morally grey, with an undertone of softness yet still feral through it all,, basically gojo during shibuya arc LOL. i looove reading cute silly boy gojo fics sm (he’s so baby) but THIS fic explores the borderline wicked side of him that is so thrilling, unique, and rare to find i think in this fandom’s collection of works. it’s just so fucking good.

forbidden romance.

UGGHH i love stories w forbidden romance. in this one, it’s med student reader x professor gojo (additional power dynamics in that he’s a senior surgeon in her field and also a research mentor in her study of interest…TRIPLE THREAT DAMN). i love how miss lostfractures doesn’t shy away from reminding the reader that it’s wrong, and that they shouldn’t be doing this. that’s my fave part of forbidden romances like yesss remind me again why this is all so wrong but let’s still do it anyways LOL <333

reader’s voice.

i’ve LOVED reader since the beginning, so relatable, emotionally mature, all her flaws are so believable & her strengths are shown seamlessly. it’s just so much fun to read because i’ll literally have a thought like “hmm…that (something a character said/did) doesn’t sound very convincing” and then the next line will be something like “he didn’t sound very convincing” like!!! me and s&c reader?? we’re locked in like this fr🤞🏼 like gojo’s domain expansion fingers

escapism.

everything in this story feels so damn real it’s insane. the pacing is stunning, love the utilization of stacks of scenes that are sort of short but so concise, enough to be a smooth read but still descriptive enough to entirely transport you into the world that’s being built. cannot praise the writing in this story enough. also the variety of ways that scenarios are made that pull characters closer to one another?? so creative. as someone who works in a research lab, studied bio in college (some of the fkn biochem stuff that comes up in this fic gives me heart attacks lmfaooo pls im traumatized), and has worked in clinics/hospitals it just itches my brain so damn good. you’ll be convinced you’re a brilliant med student while you read this fic.

writing.

the writing is just. so. good. it’s so good. better than most PUBLISHED works i’ve read. i really can't say much other than that, you just have to go see for yourself.

—

if any of these reasons speak to you, i highly recommend you check the fic out. just a note tho it does have some dark themes but you can find all the tags/warnings on her page!

OK BYE

481 notes · View notes

hihomeghere · 11 months

Note

Hello my new favorite creator! I just saw your response to my last request (the soft y/n dom one) and I'm deffo going to formally request you turn it into a story (if you're not doing that already) I've been reading more of your content and it's quickly becoming an addiction 😅 any way I'll be a big supporter from the shadows <333 -🧛 anon (Naming myself lol)

Routine | Five Hargreeves / F!Reader

Part of the Tesoro series (Can be read as a one shot)

Word Count : 2.3k Summary : After the confession, Five and reader head back to a hotel room. Soft dom y/n. Aged up!Five Warnings/Tags : Smut, handjob, masturbation, piv, cursing, fluff at the end, this is filth enjoy <3 ( I do not own the umbrella academy or any of it's characters )

If Five was anything, he was a creature of habit. His father had ingrained that in him from a young age. Chores, training, studies, hell even his meal times were scheduled. His entire life was based on routine.

Then he was stuck in the apocalypse, and even though there were millions of things Five could be mad at his father about, he had to appreciate his sense for routine. It kept him alive, he still had a set time to eat (if he had anything to eat), but instead of training he was scavenging. Picking through a wasteland for anything edible, along with trying to find a sustainable source of clean water. While picking through for food, he would also collect anything to help conserve his energy. Things like his bike or wagon, etc. His definition of ‘resting’ was mainly anytime he could sit down. During those periods he would work on equations, trying to find a way out of there and back to his family. And although it wasn’t strictly in his routine, mental breakdowns always seemed to weasel their way into his day.

Thankfully, both of those routines were a thing of the past. Now his routine consisted of reading up on case files before going into the field. He’d kill whoever he had to and afterwards he’d reward himself with fucking his fist until he fell asleep. Did it make him feel a bit disgusted with himself, yes, but masturbation had been the only stress relief he’d ever had. Again, just another one of his constants throughout the years. What he hadn’t accounted for was you. At first he had marked you off as a nuisance. Like the cockroaches that somehow managed to survive alongside Five, although you were much nicer to look at.

Five knew he was in trouble when he started subconsciously adding your routines into his. You would start getting hungry around 11:30 every day, like clockwork. So he had started planning his lunches for around 11:30, not because the thought of you eating alone made his heart seize in his chest, just to make his work more efficient. It aggravated him to have to wait for you to be finished with your lunch, only for him to get hungry once you returned. So out of convenience, he started eating lunch with you. Little things like that.

He couldn’t exactly say he was surprised. You were always one to throw wrenches in the works. Although he didn’t account for a deviation of this size into his plan. When he kissed you, a silent confession on his feelings, he knew there would be no going back. You were it for him. He loved you and you seemed to share those feelings. Your lips crashed against his as he fumbled with the key to the hotel room. You giggled into the kiss, something so sickly sweet. His hands were back on you as soon as the door swung open. Pulling the key out of the lock and throwing it onto a side table as he kicked the door close behind you. His hands were everywhere, touching and squeezing. Your breasts, oh god, your tits. He couldn’t get enough of them, his hand flew under your blouse, pinching your nipple through your bra. You gasped softly, your hands threading through his hair. He stopped, admiring your flushed face as he kicked off his shoes. Your lips parted slightly, hot breath fanning across his face, a light splattering of blood across your cheek.

You pulled away, and he almost whined at the loss of contact. What was happening to him? Did you really have such a hold on him? He was taken back to his younger years, when his father would read from Homer’s Odyssey. He had never paid much attention to the sirens, that was more of Diegos and Luthers interest. He wished he had listened to Circe’s warnings like Odysseus, now he was sure he had met a siren in person. He was bewitched by you, drawn to you like iron to a magnet. Five was sure you were more beautiful than Helen of Troy, hell even Aphrodite would be jealous of your beauty.

“I’m going to take a shower.” You smiled, pushing him back onto the bed before kissing his cheek. Another one of your routines, always showering after a mission. You made a show of undressing yourself, slowly unbuttoning your blouse. Then shimmying out of your trousers. You hooked your fingers under your bra strap, pulling them down at an agonizing pace. You unhooked your bra, throwing it onto the chair. Five’s eyes never left your body until you were behind the bathroom door. He gulped, his cock painfully pressed against the crotch of his slacks. He hurried to pull himself free, the buckle of his belt clinking metal against metal. He started to get frantic in his movements, unzipping his pants and kicking them off along with his underwear. His cock sprung up against his stomach. He let out a sigh, spitting into his hand. He grabbed himself, lubricating his dick with his spit. At times like this he wondered if was seriously fucked in the head. But normally once he ran his thumb over the slit on his head any negative thoughts would be tucked away. He arched his neck, letting out a shaky breath as he started to stroke himself. His mind wandering to you, always you. “Fuck,” he sighed squeezing the base of his cock. Your flushed face, a blush painting your cheeks. That slutty fucking skirt you wore, tight around your hips, he didn’t know how you got that little thing over your ass. He groaned, his eyes rolling back as he picked up the pace. How your lips felt against his throat as you ordered him to cum, your tits bouncing with each of his thrusts. His hips jolted up into his hand, he craved more, his other hand gently cupped his balls. He was close, his breath getting caught in his throat. “Y/n.” He whined, his eyes fluttering close.

“Starting without me?” You asked leaning on the doorway to the bathroom. Clad in only a towel, tightly wrapped around your body. He froze, caught red handed with his pants down. Fuck he was so close. He tugged on himself, chasing after his high as it slowly slipped away. You stopped him, swatting his hand away from his dick. “Excuse me?” You scoffed, your arms crossed above him. You stared down at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“What?” He asked, his eyebrows knitting together. You grabbed his face, your fingers pressing his lips together, his skin dimpling under your grip. His breath hitched, his eyes going wide. “Y/n, what are you doing?” He said through squished lips.

“You started without me.” You repeated, a wolfish grin spreading across your face. He scoffed, rolling his eyes. You turned his face so he was looking at you, his green eyes wide. He let out a surprised sound, “Now, would you like to finish?” You asked with a commanding voice. His eyes flicked all over your face.

“Y-yes.” He stuttered, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. You let go of his face, walking backwards until the back of your knees hit the plush chair. You sank down onto the chair, slowly undoing your towel, letting it pool around your body.

He stared at you, his eyebrows still furrowed. You chuckled to yourself, his expression taking you back to the first night you spent together. So unsure of himself, his hands twitched against the sheets. His dick stood at attention, brushing against his white shirt. His angry red tip made a wet spot on his shirt.

“Take off your shirt first,” you said, leaning back in the chair, spreading your legs. It was like he had been frozen until your command. His eager fingers moved to his shirt, unbuttoning the buttons quickly. He tore it off of him, throwing it onto the floor. He turned to you for his next instructions, a newfound glint in his eye. “You can touch yourself.” You cooed, immediately his hand wrapped around his cock. Stroking himself with fever, he wet his bottom lip, his hips jolting against his fist. Five was so pretty like this, not that he wasn’t a gorgeous man, but he was so vulnerable. Pride bloomed in your chest knowing that you were the only one allowed to see Five like this. His head fell back, giving you a gorgeous view of his neck. He let out a strangled whine, his lips parting. You sat up, unable to help yourself. You stalked towards him, your hands holding his shoulders. Your lips attacked his neck, nipping and sucking on his neck. Dark spots adorning his pale skin.

“Fuck,” he moaned, leaning into your touch. You reached down, pulling his hand away. He let out a frustrated whine, biting his lip as he stared into your eyes. You smiled sweetly, kissing his cheek over his two freckles, before squeezing his shaft. You began to pump him harshly, sucking a deep mark on his collarbone. His hands flew to your hips, holding them with a vice like grip. “I’m gonna cum.” He said through his gritted teeth, “please let me cum.” He squeezed your hips, his fingers digging into your soft skin.

“You can cum baby,” You chuckled, licking a stripe up his neck. He cried out his hips jolting against your hand as ropes of cum shot out onto your fist. You grinned, working him through his orgasm. A pained expression painting his features. As he came down from his high, he softly rubbed circles onto your hips.

“That was…” He trailed off clearing his throat, his hands drifting upwards on his body. You giggled, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush against your body.

“Never would have guessed Mr. Five Hargreeves would be so obedient.” You laughed, kissing him. He pulled away from the kiss.

“Are you trying to get a rise out of me y/n?” He said, cocking his head slightly. A smug smile spread across his face, his eyes darkened. You felt like the prey instead of the predator under his gaze.

“I would never dream of it.” You smirked, feeling him get hard against your stomach. “Already?” You chuckled, rolling your eyes.

“I can’t help that I have the most gorgeous girl in front of me, naked.” He mused, raising his eyebrows. You pushed him back, his back hitting the mattress with a soft thud. He smirked, propping himself up on his elbows. You crawled on top of him, setting yourself over his waist. He leaned his head forward, his lips covering your right breast. You lowered yourself onto him, moaning as he pushed through your opening. He let out a pained cry against your breast.

“Are you alright?” You asked, stalling your movement.

“Mmm,” he hummed, his eyes shut tight, his hands gripping your hips, stilling any movements you would make. “Just sensitive, tesoro.” He chuckled looking up at you through his heavy eyelashes. You grinned, you wanted nothing more than to have Five under you a blubbering mess. And you were gonna have it.

You rolled your hips against him, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips. He let out a choked gasp, his head falling back against the bed.

“You like that baby?” You asked, dragging your hips up and down against him.

“Fuck yes.” He whined, arching his back off the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head into your chest. You rocked back and forth, Five’s fingernails dragging down your back. You moaned, pushing him back against the bed. You leaned back, propping yourself up on his thighs as you jutted your hips forward again and again. That familiar coil tightening in your stomach. “F-fuck.” He cried, his hips jolting against your pelvis, his pubic hair rubbing at your clit. His eyes shone with unshed tears as he bit his lip, his hands gripping the sheets beneath you.

“You feel so good, you make me feel so good Five.” You huffed, struggling to keep up your pace. He whimpered a tear falling down his cheek. Suddenly his body jolted, his hands gripping your waist holding you down onto his hips as he came with a cry. You grinned against him, reaching your own orgasm. You moaned, high pitched and breathy as his cock twitched inside you. His cum painting your walls as you clenched down on him

“Christ woman.” He sighed, his arm covering his eyes. You pulled away his arm, wiping away a stray tear.

“Glad to be of service.” You asked sweetly, kissing his cheek before pecking his lips. You slowly got off of his lap, his softened cock slipping out of you. You laid down beside him, lightly trailing your fingers over his chest. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer. Your head laying on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

“I love you.” He says, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Are you thinking of someone else?” You tease, staring up at him through your lashes.

“No.” He says, rolling his eyes feigning annoyance. He sits up, you prop yourself up on your arm. “I’m serious,” he cups your face, “I love you so goddamn much.” He says kissing you. You were sure you had died and gone to heaven. His hand against your face, with his soft slightly bruised lips against yours. You sighed into the kiss, feeling like a love sick teenager.

“I love you.” You giggled wrapping your arms around his neck, “I love you, I love you.” You kissed the corner of his lips, his cheek, his forehead. He chuckled softly, as you met his eyes. “I love you Five Hargreeves.” You whispered, resting your forehead against his.

“And I you.” He smiled. Five would happily add anything pertaining to you into his routine any day.

#the umbrella academy #tua #five hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves #luther hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #alison hargreeves #five hargreeves smut #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreaves x reader #five x reader #number five #tua x reader #hihomeghere

788 notes · View notes

crueisummer · 1 year

Text

𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝓒𝓛16

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

series summary: Kika and Pierre invite you to their engagement party where you meet her and Pierre’s friends from F1, specifically, a certain handsome Monegasque driver.

chapter summary: You and Charles stay up talking about your dreams, fears, insecurities, and things that haunt your mind when you're alone.

chapter warnings: vvv emotional, feminism (oh no! jk), derogatory remarks, swearing, mental health, mentions of death (herve, jules, tonio)

playlist: ♫ gorgeous ♪ delicate ♬ i think he knows ♡ you are in love

author's note: Part 2 means we're halfway there!! For this chapter, I focused on the delicate's chorus to show the more vulnerable and "human" side of the characters. I will add the other aspects of the song to the following chapters. I also wrote this in a different style but I hope u guys like it. <333 Lastly, thank you all so much for almost 500 likes on the first chapter. ·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·. screaming! crying!

word count: 3.5k

disclaimer: All characters and events in this story, even those based on real people, are entirely fictional.

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎��𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞

01:57 ━━━━●───── 03:52 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮

The light beamed into your eyes from the window, intensifying the pounding in your head and increasing your thirst. As you opened your eyes, you squinted against the brightness, gradually adjusting to the sudden flash. Sensing movement beside you, you turned around to find Charles sleeping shirtless beside you. Memories of the previous night flooded back, replaying in your mind.

Before leaving the party with Charles, you looked for Kika to inform her of your departure. Seeing Charles waiting for you near the elevator, phone in hand, she expressed concern with a worried expression. Charles had recently ended a three-year relationship, and his ex happened to be the best friend of his previous ex. Kika was well aware of Charles' red flags, as she knew you, her dear friend Y/N, were known for wholeheartedly loving and falling hard for others who often failed to appreciate you as you deserved.

“Please be careful,” She smiled at you to which you nodded. She watched as you approached Charles and he smiled upon seeing you. As you waved farewell to Kika, she softly whispers to herself, “with each other’s hearts.”

You and Charles found yourselves seated on the floor of your hotel room's living room, uncomfortable party clothes off, cozy hoodies on, and legs crossed, with a spread of chips, beer, and mini alcohol bottles laid out before you. During your conversation, you discovered your shared value of family, discussing the strong relationships you both had with your loved ones.

"Are you close to your mom?" It was a question you always asked the guys you were interested in. You believed that a man who had a good relationship with his mother would treat his partner with love and respect. Although it didn't always turn out to be true, you still posed the question.

"Yeah, the first thing I do when I return to Monaco is visit her. You know, she's the only one I trust to cut my hair?" Charles smiles warmly, reminiscing about his mom. "You see, she's a professional hairdresser. So, sometimes when she watches me on TV, she'll send me a text saying I need a haircut. I just reply with her flight details to come see me, and we laugh about it, but she still comes over. That's why I've never had a bad haircut!"

"That is adorable! How often does she visit and watch your races?" You ask, eager to know more about his mother.

"Well, not as often as I'd like, that's for sure. She usually accompanies Arthur to his races."

"Races? He races too?"

"Yeah, he competes in Formula 2. Sometimes the Formula 1 and 2 races coincide on the same weekends so I get to see them both." You're momentarily taken aback. Wow, they must be RICH rich!

"Formula 2? How many Formulas are there?!" You exaggerate.

"Just three, cheri," he chuckles. "You know, my dad used to race in Formula 3 back in the '90s."

"So, it runs in the family, huh? What does your dad do now?" You inquire, looking down and grabbing a chip. The room falls into an unexpected silence, and you glance up, noticing a soft and melancholic expression on his face.

"Well, actually, I lost my dad seven years ago," he replies, offering a tight-lipped smile.

"Oh, Charles! I’m sorry, I had no idea..." Shock overtakes you, and you instinctively cover your mouth with your hand. Is that why he’s only been talking about his mom and brothers the whole night?

He interrupts, "No, it's okay. I think I’m getting used to talking about it. You know, they always interview me about their deaths. Sometimes I feel like they don't truly respect them, or me, and they just want me to talk about them for views and content."

"Deaths?" You're taken aback, struggling to comprehend the weight of his words.

"Yeah, over the past seven years, I've lost three important people in my life. My dad, my godfather Jules, and one of my best friends, Tonio."

"Charles, I'm so sorry to hear that. How have you been coping?" Rising from the floor, you move closer to him, placing a comforting hand on his thigh.

"Sometimes I find myself spiraling into these depressive episodes where I just want to close off my heart. Because if you close your heart, no new people can enter, only to leave again." He looks away, his eyes welling up with tears. Your expression softens, and he musters a small smile in your direction. He continues, his voice filled with emotion, "I've tried it before, but I realized that it doesn't make anything easier. These days, I just choose to remember them for who they were, their lives, their dreams, and the sacrifices they made for me to be where I am today."

You were taken aback at Charles’ maturity. The mere thought of losing someone dear to your heart was overwhelming, and here he was, having experienced the loss of not just one, but three significant people in his life. You couldn't help but admire him for getting through his hardships and finding happiness in the time he shared with them. Especially since he uses it as motivation to be a better person.

As your conversation continued, you decided to shift to a lighter topic in an attempt to lift Charles' spirits. You shared stories of performing in numerous countries, while Charles recounted his experiences racing in Formula 1 events across the globe. You laughed at how unfamiliar you were with his sport, just as he was with your music.

He asks if you have your phone with you.

"Um, it's somewhere around here," you respond while searching for it. Eventually, you spot it on the kitchen counter. "Why?"

"Just open Apple Music or Spotify, whichever you prefer," he says with a mischievous grin as you sit back down in front of him. You nod and show him that Apple Music is open.

"Now search for my name," he instructs, and you type his name, discovering that he is listed as an 'artist'. There’s no way…

"Charles Leclerc Artist? How are you an artist?" you raise an eyebrow at him and glance back at your phone. You notice that he has released two songs in the past year.

He laughs at your confusion. "Well, Ms. Grammy singer, I also play the piano. I wrote these songs last year and finished them around the time of the Australian GP and the Miami GP, which is why they're named AUS23 and MIA23."

You're shocked, your mouth hanging open dramatically as you listen to the songs. Charles laughs at your reaction. You didn't think he could become any more attractive, and now he surprises you with this. Could he be the incarnation of your dream man?

"That's amazing! I guess I know who to call when I need help with a song," you wink at him, and he chuckles.

"No, no. You're at least 100 times better than me. I don't have as much talent as you do to write lyrics for the music," he praises you.

“Okay, since you know a bit about my art and making a song and all that, I, on the other hand, have no fucking idea about Formula 1. Like, why do you have to travel all around the world and race on different tracks? Is it like some kind of world tour?" You burst into laughter at your own humorous analogy, and Charles, who was as intoxicated as you, finding it amusing as well.

“Do you really want to understand it?” You nod at his question as he sits up straight and stretches his head and hands, “warming up” to explain.

"You see, every race weekend is different. Let’s say you do Plan A for this weekend, sometimes it works, and we get podium. But sometimes despite our best efforts, it doesn’t. So, after the race, we talk about what went right and what went wrong and then we make a new plan for the next race. Do you understand so far?”

You nod at him. Though a slight confusion still lingered in your mind, you couldn't help but be captivated by the passion radiating from his every word. The way his eyes sparkled, and his voice exuded genuine excitement revealed the depth of his love for his job. In that moment, you realized that this wasn't merely a profession to him; it was a true calling, a relentless pursuit of excellence that fueled his spirit.

"I still don’t understand. Maybe being there and watching it firsthand can help me. What do you think?" you playfully suggest, winking at Charles as you extend your legs onto his lap. He responds by grabbing your leg with his left hand and dramatically clutching his heart with his right, feigning a heart attack. "Oh, amour, the thought of you in red."

As your connection deepened, you both began to open up and share parts of yourselves that were usually kept hidden. You spoke honestly about your doubts, worries, and the overwhelming thoughts that haunted you when you were alone.

"Can I ask you something?" you inquire, looking up at him.

"Go ahead," he replies, grabbing a chip and taking a bite.

"Have you read about me? Like on the internet, in articles or magazines?"

"I see the headlines, but I don’t really read them, so let's just go with a 'no,'" he says, wiping the salt and dust from his hands. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I’m sure I already know your answer, but doesn't it bother you sometimes, the things they write about you?" you question, and he nods, encouraging you to continue. "It's just that they always make comments about my personal life, especially with the people I choose to be with."

"Yeah, well, those people's lives are so miserable that they have nothing better to do than try to ruin ours," he jokes, attempting to lighten the mood, and you find yourself laughing.

You glance down at your lap, your hands fidgeting as you gather your thoughts, when Charles interrupts, taking your hand. "Hey, I know it sucks, but I think it's something that comes with success. It bothers me too when they do that to me. Look, I won't pretend to fully understand what you're going through because I know I don't."

You look up at him, puzzled. "Do you remember earlier at the party when you arrived before me? When your car pulled up at the restaurant, they went crazy. Now, I've been in front of cameras since I was a kid, and I know a thing or two about paparazzi, but I've never seen fame like yours before. They were taking so many pictures of you that it didn't even look like flashes anymore, it’s like someone had switched on a blinding light for those few seconds you walked from your car to the door."

"I couldn't really see you because of the crowd, but when I heard them shouting your name, it just made sense. Don't tell the engaged couple, but I'm 100% sure you were the best thing at the party. " he winks at you. "But still, that doesn't make it okay. The reason they act like that is because they are taking advantage of your popularity. They think that getting a good picture of you, or a story, out of you or even something they made up, is big money.”

You’ve thought of this before, the way they treat you is different from other celebrities, but you hesitated to bring them up, fearing it would make you appear arrogant. It was a nice change to discuss about your life, popularity and the challenges that come with it, and to be met with Charles' honest and genuine response. You look back at the times you talked about this with a partner, and how they dismissed your concerns, labeling you as ungrateful, overreacting, or even a drama queen. The contrast in reactions causes you to appreciate Charles' maturity, understanding and support.

Despite your seemingly different lives, his centered around sports, yours with music, your personalities and passion for your respective crafts and families made you remarkably similar. With every word exchanged, the infatuation between you grew stronger.

So, at 4 am, while leaning against the balcony of your hotel room, a comfortable silence settled between you.

“I’m going to be honest with you, I’ve never experienced this before.” Charles says softly. “Staying up at this hour and talking about my life and the shit I go through to a girl I’ve only met for 8 hours now. It makes me feel like I want to tell you my whole life. It feels…” He trails off, a loss for words.

“I get what you mean. I never thought we would have a lot in common, especially since from the outside, it looks like we’re living different lives. But it looks like we're not so different after all.”

“Y/N, I know it’s too soon because we’ve only just met but I really want to get to know you better.” He faces you and draws himself closer. His green eyes pierce your Y/E/C eyes, he smiles genuinely at you.

As you gaze at him, your heartbeat quickens. You can’t tell if this is real life because you’re experiencing emotions you’ve never felt before. Here stands a guy who is caring, grounded, and by the way, absolutely gorgeous, and he is genuinely interested in getting to know you. Your thoughts waver back and forth, questioning whether this is okay. Is it cool that I’ve shared everything in my mind with him? Is it chill that he’s in my head?

Your mind and heart go into battle. Think! After all, you've only known this person for eight hours! Eight hours, Y/N! On the other hand, what if this is actually okay? Could this be the story of you meeting "the one"? Or your soulmate?

You tried to find a compromise.

Blushing, you gazed up at him and agreed, “I feel the same way. But can we take it slow? I never like to rush things, especially relationships.”

He nods and hugs you from behind. “Is this alright?”

You hummed and you both stayed there, watching the stars and the beautiful view of Florence.

You didn’t want the night to end, and you couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to him right now. So you tried to make up excuses for him to stay. “But, you know, it’s too dangerous to drive at this hour.”

“Cheri, there is no such as thing as a time that is too dangerous to drive.” He chuckles at your cuteness. “Plus, I’m a Formula One driver, I think I can handle myself.”

“No, you can’t because we just finished doing shots like three hours ago! And what if other drunk people are driving around too?”

Charles lightly laughs at your stubbornness. He knows you’re too prideful to just tell him to stay the night, especially after you both agreed to keep things slow. He sees you avoiding his gaze, so he addresses you, “Y/N.”

As you looked up, he smiled at you and gently holds your chin and locking eyes. "Je suis folle de toi.” he uttered.

Confused, you smiled in anticipation, knowing he had likely said something sweet. Seconds later, he translated himself, the proximity between your faces nearly undoing you. "I am crazy about you.”

...

Carefully locating your phone, you closed the bedroom door behind you. Retrieving two water bottles from the mini fridge in the kitchen, you settled on the couch in the living room of your hotel suite, resting your legs on the coffee table.

You check your messages and there were some from Kika, and your management team. Kika texted you and said to meet her for brunch at 11. Though, with a Monegasque driver in your bed, you don’t know when you can leave, so you move on to the other conversations, keeping in mind that you reply to her soon.

Your management team’s group chats were asking where you are and who you were hanging with. You read their earlier messages and saw that there are articles and pictures of you and Charles leaving the party last night. You open your Twitter account and see the two of you are trending. Of course, we are.

You scrolled through the tweets and some fans were happy, some were not, some just... don't have any opinion. And you prefer the latter. Reading the tweets of the fans was one thing, but the way the media and articles talked about you was different. It's like they didn't have respect you.

The articles get to you, Why is there so much scrutiny around my dating life? They called you a serial dater, manipulator, etc., even creating "warnings" about you for Charles; saying you're just gonna break his heart and write a song about him.

You furrow your brow, wondering why they single you out like this and why other women aren't subjected to the same level of scrutiny. It's frustrating because they never say these things about other people, especially men in the industry who engage in similar dating behaviors. Your male friends in the industry can date different people or even cheat and sing about it without raising any eyebrows. But when it comes to you, the accusations fly.

When they accuse you of "jumping" from one relationship to another, they label you a player or claim you cheated. If you choose to casually date without exclusivity, they call you a slut. It never ends. Where do they expect me to stand? When will it all just stop?

You start to question whether the people you want to be with have seen what has been written about you and if your reputation, which may be based on something fake, can affect the real connections you might make. You begin to ponder the significance of it all and how much weight a reputation actually carries.

It's unfair. Your personal life should be yours alone, and people should mind their own business. If this is the price you pay for sharing your music and being famous, you want no part of it anymore. It feels like they don't respect you as a human being.

Hot tears stream down your face as your thoughts consume you, overwhelming you completely. Seeking solace, you sink from the couch to the floor, resting your chin on your knees. It's a familiar position, offering some comfort when you're feeling low. The grounding sensation reminds you that you're still here.

Unbeknownst to you, Charles already woke up and was also reading messages from his team. He was about to greet you when he heard you sniffling. He slowly opens the door and sees you on the ground, knees to your chest, crying. Suddenly, he understands the pain you're going through. He felt awkward. He didn't know whether to comfort you or pretend to go back to bed.

But Charles can't resist the sight of your shattered state. He pushes the door open fully and gazes at you, broken and vulnerable. His heart shatters alongside yours. Slowly, he approaches and sits in front of you, taking in the magnitude of your pain. You're startled, having forgotten he was sleeping in the other room. You wonder if he knows what you're crying about, if he's seen the internet already, but the thought pushed back behind your head when a pair of warm, gentle hands cups your face, thumbs trying to wipe away your tears.

"What's wrong, mon ange?" he asks softly.

"Everything. The things they say about me... they're so mean. They're ruining my name, my reputation..." You manage to utter between sobs.

"Shh.. I know, cheri. But I don't care about what they write, alright? I want to know you. The real you." He comforts you. Running his hand up and down your arm as you find solace in his comforting embrace.

For the next ten minutes, you pour your heart out to him, releasing your pent-up emotions. When Charles senses that you had calmed down, he fetches the water bottle from the table and hands it to you. You finish it in one go.

"Feeling a little better now?" He offers, his considerate nature shining through. You smile and nod, appreciating his thoughtfulness.

"Have you eaten anything yet?" he asks, showing his concern for your well-being. You shake your head for a no.

“Do you feel like going downstairs, or should we order room service?" Going for a walk would be refreshing, and it might help improve your mood, but given that you've just bared your soul to him, you don't feel like going out. More importantly, you remember that you'll encounter numerous people and potentially face unwanted attention when you're seen again with Charles.

"We? You don't have to stay here with me. I feel better already." You face him, pulling away from his embrace. You instantly regret it as you start to feel cold already, missing the warmth of his body against yours.

"And I'm not leaving until you feel your best again. So, restaurant or room service?" He asks again. God, he is even more hot when he's stern... and caring about my well-being, of course.

Considering your current state, you prefer the comfort of staying within the confined space of your room, cuddled up next to him. "Room service, please."

↠ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬

615 notes · View notes

itsangelicasworld · 2 months

Text

*･῾ ⁺ Welcome to My Teen Titans DR 🧨 .*

💥 ˗ˏˋ DESCRIPTION .ᐟ

In 2003 Jump City, a team of six teenagers called the "Teen Titans" fight against supervillains threatening their beloved metropolis. Along the way, they must face issues even worse than superpowered antagonists who want them captured; emotions, romance, and navigating the bumpy road of impending adulthood. My DR follows the plot of the show except with my own headcanons, scenarios, etc.

Like the show, there are no secret identities; so our superhero personas are quite literally just us. WHICH MEANS WE'RE TREATED LIKE CELEBRITIES!! People ask for photos/autographs, we have merch, and there's even an entire Teen Titans fandom with forums and fanarts and theories!! Not super relevant to this reality's lore, but thought it'd be cool to mention🤭.

🔆 ˗ˏˋ ABOUT ME .ᐟ

NAME : Angelica Sterling

NICKNAMES : Quin, Angel

AGE : 16-years-old

PRONOUNS : She/her/hers

ETHNICITY : Black and Mexican

MBTI : INFP-T

PERSONALITY : Optimistic, courageous, charismatic, empathetic, humorous, witty, mature, impatient, cautious, idealistic

HERO ALIAS : Quanta

POWER : Quantum Manipulation (basically the ability to manipulate the very foundation of the universe/matter because I'm the main character actually🤭)

SUB-POWERS : Healing, telekinesis, quantum empowerment, shapeshifting

DRAWBACKS : Using too much of my power at one time can lead to fatigue; symptoms range from mild (grogginess, irritability) to severe (headaches, unconsciousness). Additionally, under incredibly high-stress situations or potent emotions, my powers may become unstable or erratic

COMBAT SKILLS : Hand-to-hand, mixed martial arts, kickboxing, and of course using my powers, which include shooting projectiles and making defense constructs

🍕 ˗ˏˋ RELATIONSHIPS .ᐟ

I made moodboards + added some quotes for all of them here, so check that out if you wanna see their aesthetics🤭

ROBIN : My s/o!! I could write 100 paragraphs about this man but I'll list our tropes instead💪

Tortured hero (on his side, he gets it from Batman ftgyhuhgtfg)

Friends to lovers

Slooowwww burn

Mutual pining

Healing together

STARFIRE : Me and her are SUUCHH girly-girls. Having sleepovers, going to the mall, exploring the city, etc. is literally all we do and I love it. She also really likes ranting about Tamaran to me. Hearing her childhood stories is so sweet🛐

RAVEN : Initially, Raven needed time to warm up to me, but now we have a really close bond. UGGHH I can't wait to meditate with this girl and talk about spirituality. AND I SCRIPTED I'M THE ONLY ONE SHE ALLOWS IN HER ROOM, SO IT'S LIKE HAVING VIP TICKETS FFGHFFG BEAST BOY : This dude is such a jokester but he's so insecure I just NEED TO HUG HIM😭😭. He's like the little brother I never had; super annoying but I couldn't imagine my life without him

CYBORG : Although I'm not as close to Cy as some of the other members, he really means a lot to me!! He's kind of like my big brother. He really likes to teach me about mechanics and I know he's always got my back, and I have his. Even though we can squabble over his attitude sometimes💀

🦇 ˗ˏˋ OUTRO .ᐟ

Feel free to send in asks about this DR (and really any of them if your curious), they'd be greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading THIS far <333

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗹 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 *+:｡.｡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ. . . . . ╰──╮

Aesthetics inspired by @/shiftingwithjaidyn's fame DR intro | Dividers by @/strangergraphics-archive

#shiftblr #reality shifting #desired reality #shifting community #shifting antis dni #teen titans dr #shifting to teen titans #shifting to dc #dc dr #dr introduction #dr intro

104 notes · View notes

nikolais-eyepatch · 6 months

Text

THIS TOOK SO LONGGG IM SORRY U GUYS BUT I KINDA LIKE THIS SHOULD I MAKE A PT 2??? <333 YOU GUYS PLS READ THIS I THINK THIS MIGHT BE MY BEST WORKSSS!! also thing is i had dazai in mind for this but then i thought that it might be ooc so the character can be anyone!!

warnings : murder, stalking, suggestive writing, two psychos in love <33 (i do not condone these actions outside of fanfiction)

word count : 3.291K

(credit to @tookio for the dividers throughout the story!! lace one!! )

In the dimly lit streets of the city, where shadows, secrets, whispers and crime had all intertwined. You would have never ever even thought about the fact that you would have met him. Handsome was an understandment, but beneath all that charisma lies a man that you had met that fateful night.

You had simply seen him...everywhere. he was quiet the talk. his name was well-known. but by each passing day the paranoia increased. you had seen his smile, it was so perfect. god even you had a slight crush on the man, who wouldn't?

just like everyone else you had fantasies too, i mean his skin was so smooth...it'd be a perfect addition to you're collection. Out of everyone you had seen he simply had this charm you've never even noticed in others. why not indulge yourself in these weird fantasies? i mean sure you wouldn't be acting them out, so what harm right!

As a detective it was normal for you to get off work late, helping others and solving crimes. The pay was quite good in honesty, that's the only reason you sticked around.

nothing really interested you when you think about it, from a young age everything was all, blank. You really couldn't give a shit about anyone. You were only doing your job.

So when you stumbled across him as you entered the alley and heard the sound of something gushing, was that the sound of... stabbing? You never had thought you would've found him. murdering the man who had asked for your hand, you wouldn't blame him. he was an nuisance.

in the dim lights the eye contact between you two was tense, until you had sighed and raised an eyebrow as the words stumbled out.

"you seem like a busy man tonight, sir." you say unbothered at the sight as you continue observing him, he was wet with blood, obviously, you note. the smell was unbearable, so was the sight...he really did a number on him.

his eyes twinkle with amusement, a devilish smirk playing upon his lips. "Indeed, I am. But fear not, dear detective, I hold no ill intentions toward you." His voice was smooth as he reassured you.

you simply stare at him confused as you decide to do what's best, "That's...fine by me, sir. Have a good night dear stranger." you brush off as you wave goodbye to him and continue your merry way back home.

you weren't bothered...? oh how happy he was! with a grin spread across his face reaching his ears he watched you turn the other way and walk away. thank god! He had his eyes on you for sososo long!! You never knew how much he had wanted to possess you, to claim her as his own, even if it meant succumbing to the darkest corners of his soul! You saw him murder...yet you didn't even react? you could have done anything! gone to the police- ran away- or even decide to do something since you yourself were a detective! but no! you didn't! this means something right? you kept his secret! he knows you will! who else would you tell? this is perfect...that means you agree to be his! i mean c'mon- you didn't even care! he confirms your the one- only one!!! such a Fateful night, gosh!!

your figure gets smaller and smaller as he watched you with a giddy attitude, forgetting all about the body just by his foot...he had wanted to court you...he couldn't have that could he? he did this for you! and you didn't even care much about him! your the perfect one!!!

he always had a yearning to understand his soulmate...who dares to walk the same path as him yet stands on opposite sides of the moral divider. now? he's gotten his answer

As the days passed, the memory of him lingered in your thoughts, a persistent thorn in his otherwise impenetrable psyche. Intrigued by his motives and everything, you had found yourself drawn to his presence, craving the thrill of her company...this was bad.

One night you had no idea how it had happened. some bitch had been getting on your nerves. next second you find yourself in the same alleyway you and that man had met, as you continue stabbing the woman, her face was disformed, her organs were showing as the blood spurted out, god...it felt so right. The greed taking over as you took advantage of her drunk-like state. If her face wasn't disformed from the amount of struggle she put in, maybe you would have used her skin to experiment.

you now see why killing was such a thrill, simply from hearing it from others at your work, to looking for clues, even going to crime scenes and asking witnesses, to reading such books at night before bed, and witnessing that man do a gruesome sin so casually?? you had given up. all the pent up amount of anger and frustration showing up as you showed no mercy to the woman under you and you continue making the same motion.

up, down, squelch, up. up, squelch, down, up. up, squelch, down, actions that were considered psychotic and you were against all going down the drain- you were a detective goddammit! why was this happening?? god you just-

you stop all actions as your moments falter at the sound of footsteps. turning your head to the direction you found him, standing there with a smirk.

you chuckle and soften your eyes as you say "dear stranger, we meet again." you say as you observe him, this time it was you who was covered in blood, him a witness to your deepest desires.

he had always questioned whether his feelings towards you were love or obsession....whether you'd get to live or die was depended on what he had thought of you. yet, seeing you in this light made him question his own motives.

"Once again, fate brings us together," he murmured, his voice cold yet amused. "I see our paths are destined to cross repeatedly." From the corner of his eye, he noticed your hand gripping the weapon tightly, a mask of determination etched onto her face. "What brings you here, my dear detective?" He asked, curiosity mingled with a slight bit of excitement.

"ah business, my dear stranger." you commented as you eye him up and down, you didn't really know if it was in attraction or disgust really, everything was too foggy in your brain.

rights confused with wrongs, left and rights, north and south, west and east, god it was such a ecstatic feeling!

a faint smirk graced his lips as he studied his dear, the veneer of his composure never faltering. "Business, you say?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow. "And what kind of 'business' requires the taking of a life?" His gaze shifted to the dead woman on the ground.

you were like him!!! he was so happy!! imagine the dates you could have since you and him were alike!! he wonders if you'll kill for him too as he has for you, his dear spouse!!!

"The usual, now we've both caught each other doing this act of....sin haven't we?" you say warning reminding him oh his own crimes as you cautiously look at him for any reactions as you clutch your knife suspicious at his motive.

The gleam in his eyes intensified, acknowledging the truth in your statement. He let out a soft chuckle, a sinister sound that echoed through the alleyway. "so it seems we share a common bond, after all. you and I, the hunter's. It is a curious coincidence, indeed." Pausing briefly, he continued, "But our roles do not define us, my dear detective. Shall we exchange confessions, or shall we continue our separate journeys?" he asked with a smirk.

god you don't get it!! he's so nervous! he's itching to hold you! please say yes! he'll actually die and drag you with him if you say no!!

after a few moments of silence you break it with a simple, "Shall we have dinner at mine?" you ask as you tilt my head in curiosity of his response.

he raised an eyebrow at the unexpected invitation, but there was no denying the allure of its audacity. There was something about you that piqued his interest, a challenge he couldn't resist. "An intriguing proposition, detective," he replied, his voice smooth as silk. "I accept, under one condition. We shall share our darkest secrets over dinner, and I believe that you have tales worth hearing." With slow steps he walked towards you.

you have no idea what you do to him, your so perfect...he cant believe he had forgotten the ring at home. he'll make it up though, perhaps a night together? Would you enjoy that?

he walks towards you not to startle you as you stay put and clutch the knife by your side, once he reaches you he gently takes the knife out of your hand and holds it by his side,a small gesture to make sure you wouldn't stab him or the woman anymore. Speaking of, he continues observes the woman below the two. he knows your not dumb enough to leave evidence due to your experience, so he leaves it at that.

you speak up continuing the eye contact as you admit, "I don't have much stories, i can assure you that. This is my other darkest secret. The art of killing is quite fascinating, no? The motives, blood, shrill, everything." you sigh out in relief.

Oh? Quite amusing, no?

as you spoke, he observed you closely, noting the dreamy quality in your voice. There was a certain thrill in her words, a shared understanding that surprised him. "The art of killing..." he mused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "It is indeed a fascinating dance, a deadly waltz between life and death. But it is not merely the violence that captivates me; it is the web of motivations that drive individuals to such extremes. Tell me, what fuels your passion for it?" He asked, genuinely interested in her answer. he himself personally knew that beneath the surface of any killer, layered a story untold.

"My story..? I apologize but i'm not that quite fascinating. i simply wanted to feel the thrill and joy, i suppose that's what makes us different. Now dear stranger, care to have dinner with me tonight?" you remind him of the pervious offer as you start to get slightly impatient at the questions.

he nodded, accepting the change in direction of the conversation. "Very well, detective. Your reasons for your actions may not be as elaborate as mine, but they are yours nonetheless." he paused for a moment, considering her proposal. "Yes, I accept your invitation. Tonight it is." A sly smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, the anticipation of their meeting building within him. "Perhaps over dinner, we will uncover more about each other's motivations and the shadows that shape us." he says that more as a promise as the gaze in his eyes are tender yet filled with a look that makes you shiver...surprisingly.

you offer a hand for him, taking the offered hand, he felt the cool body temperature compared to his warmth.

His eyes flickered with surprise, but he hid it well. "You leave no trace, do you?" he remarked, his tone neutral. "a wise precaution, one that I respect." Turning to face you, he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders, guiding her through the dimly lit alleyway. "Now, let us embark on this adventure you speak of. to uncover the shadows that shape us, we must first delve into the darkness that binds us."

his arm slides down her shoulder and instead their fingers entwined, the two walked side by side, an unlikely duo drawn together like magnets...

"your skin is so smooth, i'd gladly use it as a use for my future experiment, but for now i shall continue doing research." you note to him as you walk hand in hand to your apartment, a new unlikely bond forming.

he smiles as he stays quiet as he observes you take out your keys, unlock the said door to your apartment, and let him go in first, he does so as he steps in a couple of steps as he comments "Your home reflects your nature, detective. Cluttered yet organized, a testament to your duality."

you lock the door as you step in with him and guide him to the small table, oddly enough you had two chairs across from each other with a small round table in between.

he sits as you gesture for him to sit as his eyes simply watch you, never taking them off you or your figure...this is a dream come true for him, dear. you have no idea of all the nights he's thought about this, a fantasy now a reality.

you start by assuring him "I don't plan on having your head, rest assure my dear. I simply wish to enjoy the warmth of a dinner."

he gets even more ecstatic but doesn't let it show as his lips quirk into a small smile.

"Warmth, indeed. An appropriate word for the evening, don't you think?" he comments as he puts his cheek in his palm which is resting on the table as he tilts his head and continues smiling at you.

warmth, warmth?

in the small moments of chatting and such while you prepare dinner for two as he observes you continue talking about exchanged stories- tales of their past, their motivations, and the darkness that haunted them.

you set down the plates on his and your side as you sit in your chair and begin eating, silence overtakes the two as you continue enjoying the warmth of another person and the food which isn't as bad as the one's from the other days.

you start by saying "now when we first met, did you know the man you had killed my dear? He was planning on courting me the next day...but you had killed him" you say wiping your lips with a napkin to ensure you didn't look improper infront of your new guest.

his moments falter then he hides it with a smirk as his gaze locking onto you. "a twist of fate, then," he said quietly, setting down the fork for a moment to take a sip of the water. "Your intended suitor, replaced by an unexpected encounter with me. A interesting meeting that led us here, sharing a meal and confessions. Quite poetic, don't you think?" He resumed eating, his expression the same. "yet, I wonder, why did you not reciprocate his feelings towards you? Was there something about him that displeased you?"

he asked, curious about her feelings toward the man he had intentionally kiled yet he masks it up with curiosity wanting to know more about his dear,

"He simply...wouldn't approve of my ideals." you say as you shrug your shoulders as you put down your fork and admire the man across from you, the lighting right above the table highlighting his features, his eyes downwards as he focuses on eating, his face looking charming as ever, and him.

he meets your eyes as he then says "Ideals are a tricky thing, aren't they? They can either bring people together or tear them apart. And in this case, it seems like your ideals kept you from that fateful engagement." He pondered for a moment, then added, "Tell me more about these ideals, detective. What drives you to walk this dark path?" He wanted to understand you better, to unravel the threads that made you...you!!

As they continued their meal, the conversation flowed effortlessly, each revelation painting a clearer picture of his dear sitting across from him.

with questions unanswered from your side, you get up as you collect both your and his empty dishes as you walk to the sink and rinse the plates with water before putting soap on a sponge and getting to work.

he watched you move gracefully about the kitchen, a mix of admiration and amusement playing across his features. "You have a peculiar charm, detective. one cannot help but be drawn in by you." He mused, leaning back in his chair. "but I must ask, will you always be the hunter, or do you ever allow yourself to be hunted?" His question was gentle, yet persistent, encouraging you to reveal another factor about your life.

you decide to indulge in his charm as you answer "i can be anything you want, my dear," you say as you continue scrubbing the dishes not bothering to turn back and look at him as you continue your work.

his eyes never move off your figure as he starts by saying "perhaps...there is more to discover within each other than just our dark interests, dearest."

He stood up, crossing the room to stand behind her. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he whispered softly into her ear, "And what of your fantasies, detective? Do share them with me, and I promise to fulfill them." His breath tickled her neck, a gentle reminder of his presence. The tension in the air thickened, their connection growing stronger with each passing moment.

you simply cherish his warmth compared to your coldness as you hum a tone enjoying the temporary- no forever moments between you two.

after a short while you say "our night that day i suppose was a fateful night, no?" you say moving for a bit turning off the faucet and then setting the plates. Afterword's, drying your hands then meeting his body against yours as you put your arms around his neck with a playful smirk.

he returned her smile, his own smirk matching her playfulness. "Yes, indeed, a fateful night-" he agreed yet interrupting himself, leaning in instead to brush a soft kiss against her lips. the kiss was a small one, simply enjoying the softness against lips as you seal an invisible oath.

he continues on "-One that will echo through our dreams and shape our reality. Your hands are clean now, but I fear, my dear detective, I may never wash off the stains of our shared past." He pulled her close, as if that was even possible as he and you enjoy the tenderness as his hand cups your cheek.

"in what way my dear? we have such a bond...our fondness could increase more, it'd be a shame if it went to waste." you say as you nuzzle closer to his hand on your cheek.

" I am merely a shadow, a whisper in the wind that brings forth change," he then plants a soft kiss at the softness of your neck below you jaw as he continues, "but for you? my dear, call me whatever you wish for tonight, i am yours just as if you are mine."

Their embrace lingered, filled with unspoken promises and desires. The air between them crackled with anticipation, a silent agreement to explore the boundaries of themselves to the fullest for eternity.

"care to spend the night, dear?" you ask, a simple question yet very obvious intentions.

knowing the answer yet he considered your invitation, his eyes never leaving yours. "I accept, under one condition: You allow me to learn everything about you, and share with me your deepest secrets." He whispered, his tone low and seductive. "only then can we truly merge our shadows, becoming one in the dance of darkness." His fingers tightened subtly, pulling her closer still despite the closeness.

"Then afterwords...do we forget about everything we had tonight? Or maybe...are you thinking of something else dear?" You ask hopefully as you push a strand of his hair behind his ear.

"Such forgetfulness does have its merits, but it would be foolish to discard the memories we create. Instead, let's keep them locked away in our hearts, to be revisited only for us." He leaned in, brushing his lips with yours as he continues holding your cheek tenderly.

This was more than mere attraction; it was a bond born of shared darkness and mutual understanding. He knew that this encounter would leave an indelible mark on them both, and he welcomed it. Their passion grew, fueled by secrets and desires, until they succumbed to the pull of the night, surrendering to the whims of fate and their own twisted dreams.

OMG YOU GUYS THIS IS ACC NOT BAD??!!! WOW IM BACK U GUYSS <3333

126 notes · View notes

dark-and-kawaii · 4 months

Note

Just finished reading your newest Rolan story with your durge and just need you to know I want him to obliterate me while mocking Rolan. There’s something about bullying Rolan that makes me go feral.

Kieran x f!reader/tav x Rolan

(つ╥﹏╥)つ *tears up*!!!! I-I- am so happpppppy so many of you gave Kieran a chance!!! He was an accident I created and you have to thank @reverieblondie for pushing me to dive even further with his character <333!!! If it wasn’t for her I would never have written the story!!! So a round of applause for her *caps and smooches*

But yes!!!! I won’t lie I get so distracted when playing his character!!!! The great thing is I know -since he’s my character- he would absolutely oblige and ruin your holes, all of them…

Thank you so much for the kind words and loving Kieran!!!! Really, like I didn’t think people would give him a chance and ahhhh I don’t know I’m still so shocked and just amazed <3333 I never wanted to talk about my characters because I was so afraid…. Wow thank you seriously!!! Here’s a little more of him <333

Kieran would leave you an utter mess with all your holes dribbling his cum.

Before he leaves he catches your face in his hand, squishing your cheeks and turning your head so your dazed eyes can look at him, “Look at you, too fucked out to speak huh?” He forces a kiss on your lips, his tongue sliding across your lips, and he laughs at your lazy attempt to kiss back, your tongue sloppily meeting his. He pulls away, still with his fingers gripping your cheeks, “You’ve only known me for a few hours and you’re already so in love with me, pathetic.”

He turns to look at Rolan who’s still trying to catch his breath, “I didn’t know you had such a lovely little thing on the side, Rolan. I’ll be sure to drop by a lot more, make use of your whore, keep her company while you run off and play wizard.”

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #tav #durge #dark urge #Rolan #rolan bg3 #Kieran Elendighet

54 notes · View notes

mangekyuou · 2 years

Note

Straw Hats x Fem Dragon Reader platonic! S/O came from an aggressive race that can transform into dragons. She’s different because instead of scales, she’s a feathered dragon with healing powers instead of fire. She’s kicked out not only bc she’s weak, but she’s too kind, sweet, and shy. With the Straw Hats, she’s like the nurse. She gives flying rides, she cuddles and nuzzled anyone in her dragon form, and protects them in her dragon form. Who would hate such a cinnamon roll dragon?

⟡ ֺ 𓂂 headcanons , with a dragon crewmate.

!! characters! . . . the straw hats.

!! cw(s)! . . . platonic. gn!reader. no pronouns used. not proofread.

!! notes! . . . this was such a cute request and such a cool concept. i love the idea of a feathered dragon that’s like the odd one out. i hope i did it justice. thank you requesting !! <333

they absolutely love you. the straw hats are a crew of random misfits from all walks of life put together. of course, you’d fit right in. besides who doesn’t want a kind dragon as a member of their crew ??

luffy definitely does not give you much of a choice. even when he didn’t realize you had a human form, he was swinging from your neck in your dragon form, asking you to join his crew

luffy is constantly trying to get rides out of you. much to the dismay of nami, who scolds him for asking all the time, even if you don’t mind

nami is definitely like a protective sister, always making sure you’re comfortable, that you’re eating and drinking well, that you’re not feeling under the weather. the last thing she needs is a sick dragon on board

feeling your feathers brings a comforting feeling to her. it always calms her

chopper takes to you immediately. you’re just like him, ostracized from your own family. he feels your pain and will definitely try his best to cheer you up if you ever get sad, thinking about your family

plus your healing powers come in handy with helping him. you’re like partners in crime. chopper is always attached to you whether you are in human or dragon form

you’re a packaged set !! never to be separated !!

robin feels attached to you instantly since the first she met you. she finds you adorable in both your human and dragon form. she adores cuddling up next while you’re in dragon form, while she reads. you’re the perfect pillow

franky is very surprised, to say the least. when he pictures dragons, you’re not what he pictured. nothing against you tho !! he tries his best to apologize to you after a stern lecture from nami and robin

but franky thinks you’re still super !! he tries to craft you items that enhance your powers while looking cool. you’re his favorite dragon ever

like franky, zoro has an idea of what a dragon looks like in his head. but he definitely doesn’t expect you. but he just shrugs it off and moves on. he feels indifferent about you at first until he’s gotten the chance to get to know you

he won’t say it out loud, but he looks out for you before retiring for the night. he needs to know you’re doing okay before he can settle in himself. if you let him, he’ll definitely make your side in your dragon form his new resting place. lord, forgive the poor soul who happens to wake you the next morning

jinbei is such an old man lol. he’s kind of in awe at you. he’s only heard stories of dragons, now to see one up close, to be crewmates with one, it’s amusing to him

never does he ever want to fly, but he enjoys watching you soar, seeing you so free in the sky. it makes him happy seeing you so happy

it definitely takes usopp some time to get used to you. your human form is fine, but for a while, you have to tell him before you’re changing into dragon form, a habit that you would continue to have even after he got used to it

usopp definitely talks a big game now that you’re here. someone’s threatening him ?? he’s definitely using the “i have a pet dragon who does everything i say” card. and you play along, using your dragon form to scare them away. there’s a reason you’re his favorite

of course you can do no wrong in the eyes of sanji. he’s the main one RUNNING to cuddle next to you in your dragon form, pushing zoro out of the way.

he even has his own spot, well it’s not his spot but no one else is allowed in that spot

brook is a special case. well, no one is sure whose existence is more mind-blowing, the talking skeleton or the dragon. the two of you together is quite amusing, seeing the terrified faces of civilians seeing you

he has definitely almost been hurt and wanted you to use your healing powers on him but then realized he’s dead already so they don’t work

they love when you try to protect them, but they want to protect you too. they’ll never let you fight alone

on cool nights on the sunny, everyone lays on your soft feathers, looking up at the night sky, pointing up at the stars, luffy and chopper using your head and neck as a slide, but you love them so it’s okay

#one piece #the strawhats #the straw hats #strawhats #straw hat pirates #strawhats x reader #straw hats x reader #one piece oneshots #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #one piece headcanons #☆ — MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE.

471 notes · View notes

satoruxx · 1 year

Note

omg so like i saw ur event open and uhm what afe akaashi + this side of paradise by coyote theory 🫶

pairing: akaashi keiji x reader | 2.1k+ words summary: college au, student akaashi, pining (ofc), basically reader monologuing about her crush on akaashi for 2k words (i mean same), both of them are introverted af tho, which means they're both idiots (i'm speaking from experience hehe), nerds being nerds, overall just lots of fluff and overthinking !! a/n: AKIIIII hello hello <333 ty for sending this in lovely !! can you believe this is my first time writing for a haikyuu character?? and it so happens to be akaashi skhfkdjds i adore him !! this was so cute to write i was kicking my feet and giggling. i remember being obsessed with this song a few years ago and now that i wrote this i've been listening to it on repeat !! anyways i hope you enjoy this hehe <3

literature class was by far your favorite one of the day. you liked the stories you got to read, because it meant that you could fall into a world of your own and let your mind race with ideas. you liked how kind the professor was, passionately speaking about a subject only few could teach. you liked that it was an afternoon class, not too early for sleep to still be clinging to your eyes and yet not too late for the day's exhaustion to hit your body.

and you liked the way akaashi keiji looked as he intently listened to the lecture.

it was an accident at first. you'd gone into the lecture hall on the first day as early as you could, just so that you could scope out the corner most seat. the one away from the front where all eyes rest, but close enough from the far back so you could still pay attention. it was a fairly unpopular place to sit, so you wouldn't have to worry about any chatty seatmates trying to pull you out of your comfort zone.

only after a week of class, during one of the more boring lectures when your focus was waning and your eyes were wandering, did you notice him. akaashi keiji sitting in the row in front of you, closer to the other side of the room but angled in the perfect position for you to see his side profile.

his fingers curl under his chin as he rests his face in his palm, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose precariously. he doesn't seem to mind though, eyes roaming over the board before settling on the professor again. occasionally, he'll look down at his notes to jot something down and then fidde with the pen mindlessly.

you just think he happens to look very pretty.

not that you'd ever tell him that.

no, you'd much rather stay hidden in your quiet corner of the lecture hall, where you can simply observe from the side. where you can avoid opening your mouth because oh god you know if you ever spoke you'd make an absolute fool of yourself.

it's better for you to remain alone, because that's how you've always preferred it to be. that's how you like it.

you think maybe that's why you're drawn to akaashi keiji.

he reminds you of yourself. always alone but never unhappy. he seems to enjoy solitude, just like you do. even when you manage to catch a glimpse of him around campus, he is by himself, nose buried in a book or pencil dragging against sheets of paper. he'll occasionally have headphones plugged into his ears, drowning out the world in a way you know all too well.

you like that about him, how similar he is to you. sometimes your friends will tell you that you need to socialize more, because human interaction is healthy and required and oh so important. they're right, but they don't understand how difficult it can be when you're so used to your own company. or when your brain is constantly conjuring up ideas on how strange you must look or sound. you think you'd much rather wait for the opportunity to socialize to fall right into your lap, not seek it out yourself.

so yes, in your opinion, it's completely acceptable to settle for just admiring akaashi keiji from afar. every time you sit in literature class you're grateful enough to just get the chance to see the small things he does. which pen he'll choose to write with for today's lecture, or whether he'll forgo paying attention to instead bury his face in a novel. that's enough for you.

but right now you need to push thoughts of akaashi keiji out of your head. you need to focus on finishing your reading assignment for literature class. and you want to focus, but it seems like every where you go someone is intent on making it as difficult as possible for you. you head to the library, and it's oddly loud in there. you try to find an empty classroom, and they're all filled with students. you just need a quiet place on campus where you could be alone and focus.

but you can't find any. you're about to give up and head back to your apartment when you spot a small alcove in one of the campus gardens, hidden by stone walls and leafy vines.

you send a quick thanks to the heavens and take a seat, making yourself comfortable and pulling out your book and notes. you don't know how long you sit there, cut off from the outside world as you read through pages and pages of the story, occasionally taking notes and rereading passages. you're only aware of the way the sun travels across the sky, indicating that time is indeed moving. you like it here, in this little space away from the rest of society, and you think you could remain here for so much longer.

"what do you think of it?"

you look up and your stomach drops as your eyes take in akaashi keiji standing over you, his bag slung over his shoulder. you only gape at him, not having enough time to prepare yourself for this sudden interaction. all you can manage is a stupid "huh?"

"the book. what were your thoughts?" he asks again, pointing down at the novel laying in your lap. you have to force yourself to stop staring at him and open your mouth.

"it's ridiculous." you answer lamely and akaashi's lips quirk upwards.

"it's a shakespearean tragedy..." he says and you suddenly think that your answer might've been a dumb one, but then he's nodding in what seems to be agreement. your breath catches as he bends down to take a seat next to you. "...of course it's got themes of ridiculousness."

the soft fabric of his sweater brushes against your skin and you almost choke, because your palms feel sweaty and your heart is racing and you think you might be breathing too loudly and-

"i felt the same way." he says, his finger coming to rest on one of the sticky notes you've put in the margin, where your summarized thoughts are scribbled down. "though i firmly believe desdemona was the true victim of the play."

you're still blinking at him owlishly, and you can practically see the way his shoulders drop as he attempts to withdraw his forwardness. "i'm sorry i shouldn't have-"

"i agree," you say hurriedly, effectively halting his words. "she deserved better than what she got. if i were her i would've blamed him for killing me instead of myself."

akaashi blinks, before a light smile graces his face, and he's nodding along with you. "for sure. leave it to the male main character to make the ending all about him."

you laugh before you can stop yourself, fiddling with the corners of the page. "i think we're dumbing it down a little too much."

"we probably are." akaashi muses, his fingers coming up to nudge at his glasses before they slip down his nose. he pauses for a second, glancing at you carefully before speaking again. "you...sit in the row behind me, right?"

oh no, has he noticed the way you stare at him? does he think you're creepy? you don't even want to hear what he has to say next. what if he-

"this is usually where i come to read alone. i've never seen anyone else here before." he continues, looking around the hidden little alcove.

you panic subsides and you immediately feel guilty. "oh shoot, i'm so sorry. i was looking for a quiet place to finish the book and i passed by here. i didn't mean to-"

akaashi is shaking his head immediately, hushing your apologies with a laugh. "no no, it's alright. i didn't mean to make you think i was angry about it. i don't mind sharing this spot. it works wonders when you need some quiet time."

maybe it's the tone of his voice or the way his eyes shine behind the frames of his glasses, but you find yourself relaxing before you can process it, giving him a half smile and a small shrug. "that's nice of you. i just...know how annoying it can be when people invade your space. especially when you want to be alone."

akaashi pauses, giving you a curious glance before his faces eases into a warm smile. he nods just slightly before shrugging. “that’s true. but…i don’t find myself all that annoyed right now.”

it’s obviously not meant in any other way but friendly, but that doesn’t stop his words from making your heart race. you only give him a shaky lopsided grin and try to take a leap of faith.

"well how did you feel about the ending monologue?" you ask, and akaashi chuckles, easing into the wall behind him as an invisible weight is lifted from his shoulders. he begins to answer your question, and a slight feeling of pride bubbles in your stomach.

you're actually talking to akaashi keiji. you took the leap of faith.

and it pays off because akaashi remains there with you for hours after that. you both take turns ranting about the novel, eventually drifting off into other topics that have the two of you easily conversing like you had been friends for years. by the time night has fallen and you both are packing your things, you're wondering why you were ever nervous to begin with.

“i’m glad that you found this place. it’s really peaceful.” you comment with an easy going smile and akaashi returns it almost immediately.

his tone is light when he speaks up. “you’re welcome back here anytime.”

you end up taking him up on the offer many times afterward.

a part of you worries that maybe he might find you annoying. but he always just gives you that soft smile, patting the ground next to him as he allows you to invade his space over and over again.

besides you don’t know this yet, but he only allows this for you.

because truthfully, akaashi keiji has thought you were pretty since the moment he first saw you in literature class. he’s not prideful enough to deny the way his eyes have drifted over to you during the lectures. to watch the way you tap your pen against your lips or to gaze at you when you doodle on the corner of your notes.

but he figured these feelings were something he'd keep to himself because god knows akaashi was nothing if not introverted. he would never have even dared to approach you and open his mouth since he knew in his gut that he would somehow fumble his words once he was in front of you. so why would he risk it? he wouldn't, he decided. he had made up his mind.

but then you're in front of him, curled up against the stone walls of his reading spot, all immersed in your book and his legs are carrying him forward before he can even process it. and then he's blurting out all these words while cursing himself internally because he can practically see the hesitation in your face as he basically forces you out of your comfort zone. why did he do it? he loved seeing you in your own little world, an easy smile on your face as you enjoyed your own company. now he's shattering your peace, dragging you out of it by the ankles and he wants to kick himself.

but you're always such a pleasant surprise, welcoming him into your space like it's nothing. and he knows it's not nothing. if there's anyone who can understand what a struggle it is to reach out a hand to someone, it's him. but he's grateful you built up the courage to continue a conversation with him. because now he finally has his foot in the door, and it's given him a confidence boost he sorely needed.

now that he meets you almost everyday in your shared little corner, talking about the most mundane and trivial things like it's always been a thing between you two, he feels better about what's to come. because he's dragged you into his space too, and you've become so integral to it that he can't imagine what it was like to be lonely in the first place.

but hopefully, you like being lonely with him too. because soon enough he's going to blurt out his true feelings in the form of a shaky jumbled confession, and all he can do is hope and pray you feel the same.

199 notes · View notes

wexhappyxfew · 27 days

Note

From Prompt List #3, can I please request [ TO THE THREAT ]: " is there a problem over here? " for Judy and Rosie OR [ TO THE THREAT ]: " right, either you leave or i kick you out. your choice" for Carrie and Douglass?

Thank you! I always enjoy reading your Silver Bullets stories!

-lestweforget5

HI AND HELLO MY FRIEND @lestweforget5 !!!!!!!!! thank you SO MUCH for sending this in!!! and thank you so so much for the love for Silver Bullets! they are truly my pride and joy to write and knowing they were just as enjoyed just makes me <333333 for this, i decided to write the carrie x dougie piece and prompt because someone requested the judy x rosie piece with the SAME prompt and so that will be coming out eventually!!! i wanted to write it either way and so i was very happy sent that in, too! be on the lookout for that soon! ANYWAY! please enjoy this carrie x dougie piece that cracked open the energy of carrie of being the eldest sibling + daughter, overachiever, stubborn, and emotionally bottled-up person she is <3 carrie achterberg you will always be famous (and loved)!!!

it's in the jar

(a/n): carrie achterberg, forever my stubborn, sweet pea who just wants to be cared for and loved! please enjoy this piece that focuses in a bit more on carrie and her character, alongside james douglass who clearly and evidently cares for carrie achterberg more than anything :) carrie x dougie u will always be famous! plz enjoy! and thank you again! <333

"And if you'da seen it," Carrie whispered to herself, her mind suddenly a hundred miles up in the sky, Silver Bullets swinging side to side, bullets and ammo ricocheting off the side, smearing up through the bitter cold against the metal, "you would've thought that I'da been dead." Carrie threw a small pebble, hearing the quick pattering sound it made into the jar she had placed at the base of the chair where she sat when she was Bombardier; Lieutenant Achterberg.

Now, instead, she was just Carrie.

"Then," Carrie whispered quietly, aiming the next small pebble in her hand carefully, "Krauts going right by. Boom, boom, BOOM. One after the next. Never did I see my life flash faster than I did in those 10 seconds." She aimed and watched as the pebble landed again in the jar.

That's what you get training to shoot and score with nothing but a Norden bombsight for months.

"10 seconds," Carrie whispered, holding up the next pebble, "all it took for Margie Harlowe to take the hit, knocked unconscious." The screams filled her mind as she sat there frozen, pebble in hand, her voice echoing off the walls of the inside of the nose of Silver Bullets like a paralyzing echo, a hollow one.

A shiver ran down her spine as she sat there, before aiming and harshly smacking the pebble into the jar, the patter-patter of the pebble making its way inside. Carrie picked up another, the texture smooth between her fingers as she adjusted and took aim.

"She's in the Med-Bay, unconscious," Carrie whispered, trying to maintain composure of herself, "almost reminded me of Birdie Faulkner. Almost." Almost, Carrie thought quietly. Except Margie's alive, Birdie's not. She aimed, fired and BOOM. The pebble was inside the jar again.

"But we were still in the air, ya know? Even with Margie hit above, knocked flat-out unconscious, we still had a mission to complete. The bullet sprays - like a sheet of ice hitting fire. Splaying out across the wide berth of Silver Bullets," Carrie said quietly, holding up another pebble, "you'da thought that we were going to di-"

"You thought what?" Carrie froze, whipping her head around, eyes narrowed, ablaze with light to find James Douglass there. She anxiously thumbed the pebble in between her fingers before clenching her jaw, turning and launching the pebble, which sailed right inside the jar. Then she glanced back at Dougie.

"What are you doing here?"

"This where you hide out after missions?" he asked her, ignoring her obvious question she had posed in the first place.

"Hide out?" she managed out with a scoff, turning in her crossed-legged form to pick up another pebble, "I don't hide out. I escape the chatter, Dougie. The noise, if you will." She glanced over her shoulder, glanced at him up and down, hands on his hips, smirk on his face, eyes softly staring at her own. A right sight if you were to ask her.

"How the hell did you know I was here?"

"Carlisle." Carrie raised a brow and Dougie chuckled.

Oh Bessie Carlisle, what the hell.

"Oh." Carrie said quietly, picking up another pebble and launching it forward, watching it knock inside the jar with a clink. The air was tense, almost like Dougie expected her to say something - but she didn't want to say anything. Trying to calm down from that was already enough. She didn't have any reason to perturb Dougie. Not like she tried to in the first place anyway.

Carrie slowly glanced back over her shoulder. Dougie was still standing there, quiet look on his face, like processing her words wasn't enough. Like he had to find out more. She didn't want him to find out more.

"Uh….something you need?" she asked awkwardly, feeling bad at the flash of guilt in his gaze, "Help with something or…..to talk-"

"No." Dougie said with a shake of the head and a nod, "Just…..wondering what you were up to."

"Yeah." Carrie said, her mood dimming as she sat there, equally remembering what she was doing, too. The screams, the blank stares, the blood. Carrie blinked. She looked at him again.

"Also was wondering if you wanted to come hang with some of the guys. Get your mind off Harlowe for a minute and well….outta this bucket of bolts." Carrie's lip quirked upwards the slightest bit. Inclusion was one of the things that would warm her heart every time, someone realizing that obviously she wasn't okay, but wanting to make the effort to make sure she was okay or could get her half-way there.

"I'm afraid I won't be much fun tonight, Dougie, but," Carrie offered a slight smile and a nod, "I appreciate the offer." Dougie put on a smile and nodded before sticking his hands in his pockets and nodding at her.

"It's all good, I get it," he said quietly, "shit like that sticks with you." Carrie nodded. It fell quiet and suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to be consumed by the silence herself. She cleared her throat.

"Right," Carrie said quietly, eyeing him up and down there in the doorway to the nose of the plane, "well, either you leave or I kick you out." She met his gaze before turning it back towards the nose. "Your choice." Dougie let out a low whistle.

"My choice, huh?" he said, slowly making his way into the nose of the plane, knocking gentle on the metal bolts inside of her that Ken had screwed in that one time before a mission, "What are friends for then?" Carrie sent him a look, before slowly turning her head forward again.

"Care to explain the whole jar thing?" Carrie glanced at him quickly again. "And why you're alone in here?" Carrie fell quiet for a few moments, considering his words and her own thoughts. She let out a quiet sigh, thumbing the pebble over in between her fingers again.

"Well," Carrie started, "usually I get through about 10 pebbles before I realize I can process what happened. Each pebble that goes by, I talk about something that happened, something that jumped out at me. Margie's injury, for example. I speak about it. Let myself hear it, see it. Then, I throw the pebble away. Into the jar. And I don't take it out… ever. And then that memory is gone. Shoved away in a jar, covered by all those pebbles, all those memories. All gone."

There was something in Dougie's eye as he looked to her and she suddenly felt much more self-conscious then ever under his gaze. Her cheeks warmed and she brushed a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear before looking at him.

"Don't act like it's a dumb way to cope, I know how fast liquor and beer seem to disappear around here." she said quietly. But Dougie let out a quiet chuckle and for once there was no jeer, or teasing comment or anything of the sort. Just an acknowledgment, a chuckle, a nod and a look.

"And it seems to work?" Dougie asked her and she glanced over her shoulder at him and nodded. She watched as he took in her words and stepped closer, before settling down on the metal ground beside her, criss-crossed, their upbent knees nearly touching as he sat there next to her. He looked at her and she offered him a quiet, reserved look.

Carrie figured she had to look a sight. After interrogation, she hadn't gone anywhere except straight back to Silver Bullets, hiding up in the nose of the plane to try and forget. Her B3 looked nearly charred in a few places, her blonde hair greasy, possibly tangled and in a poor looking bun, smoke and grease stains on her face, near her eyes and along her forehead - her entire body ached, with exhaustion and hunger - and her mind hurt to even conjure a coherent thought. She sighed.

"It's hard," Carrie said quietly, watching as she tossed the pebble forward, hearing it clatter into the jar, "watching Margie like that. Seeing the other girl's faces. It sucked." Carrie sent another pebble forward, the clank satisfying enough for her to breathe. She looked at Dougie, who watched quietly - rather invested at that.

"Yeah," Dougie said softly, looking down and glancing at the jar set beneath her chair, "no one wants to talk about it either. But it hurts everyone. Ya know?" Carrie stiffly nodded before glancing over at him.

"Here," she said, offering him a pebble, "have a go." He watched her as she offered him a small smile. "You are a bombardier after all. Helps to have some aim." Dougie grinned at her words and looked at the jar. He aimed it for a moment, staring at the jar intensely before glancing over at her.

"I thought we were going to die up there today." he said quietly, before aiming the pebble again, more confidently and letting it sail into the jar a clink following. Carrie watched him for a moment, his eyes staring off forward towards the jar in a distant way she couldn't describe. And she felt her heart sag a bit at the sight. She felt bad. Instead, she picked up a pebble, quickly took aim and launched it forward.

"Me too." she said as a tiny clink followed. She glanced over as Dougie met her gaze and offered a small smile his way. He managed a small one back. For a second, they just watched one another's eyes - and Dougie did have a tender enough gaze to make the ice melt it seemed. Carrie let a small laugh escape past her lips as she looked away and down at the pile of stones at her feet.

"What?" she heard Dougie ask with a small chuckle as she picked up a few stones, wordlessly handing him a few before holding a few herself.

"A few of the stones in various jars were because of you." she said with a smirk, glancing his way, watching as awe seemed to fall upon his features. And she couldn't help but laugh a bit more."Don't act so surprised, Dougie, there were plenty of reasons to throw some pebbles in the jar," she said sending him a grin, "be lucky you never have to hear 'em."

"I never get to hear them? Oh, c'mon, Bergie, give me a laugh," he said, "what could I have said to earn a pebble in the jar?" Carrie raised a brow.

"Please tell me you're joking." she said.

"What?"

"Exhibit A," Carrie said, taking a pebble, making quite the show of holding it up in front of her before taking aim at the jar, "today Dougie sat beside and man, you should've seen his face when I told him a few of the reasons some pebbles are in the jar are because of him. I told, you must be joking and he just proceeded to stare." Then, she took aim and let the pebble sail into the jar, a tiny clink following.

Then, she looked over at Dougie, whose face was a mixture of something she couldn't quite make out - surprise, awe, maybe slightly dazed? Carrie chuckled as she uncurled her legs from their stiff, crisscross position and stood to her feet, removing the tiny pebble and turning to him.

"Wanna have another go?" she asked him, looking down at him as the setting sunbathed the front of his face in a honey-gold, shining through the nose of Silver Bullets in quite a glorious way, "Feel free to have a go at whatever you want." Dougie watched her.

"Why the hell you remove the pebble?" he asked her, smiling a bit, "Thought that sorta stuff went in the jar and never came out. Ya know, things you wanted to forget." Carrie smirked and shook her head.

"Nah, I don't want to forget that." she said laughing at the slightly surprised face he wore as she settled down next to him again, bumping her knee against his own, before turning to him, "Seriously, even if it's something stupid, it relieves some stress. It could be anything." Dougie just watched her and she took the moment to reach forward, uncurl his hand and put the pebble in his palm. Then, she nodded.

"Have at it." she said, quirking out a grin. Dougie watched her for a moment before looking towards the jar.

The silence, accompanied by their breathing, filled with tiny front nose of Silver Bullets, and it was enough to possibly have driven her crazy - but there was something comforting about sitting here, beside Dougie, in the silence. In what was to be after a day like that. He took aim and then let out a breath.

"Hearing Silver Bullets got hit scared the shit outta me." he said quietly and Carrie's smile slowly fell - she could feel the corners of her lips slowly drop, her heart beginning to pound faster, and her palms growing sweaty. Suddenly, sitting next to Dougie made her eyes water.

"Blakely had come running, threw open the doors, mentioned something or other about a plane being hit pretty badly, some wounded on board and that it was Silver Bullets. Couldn't help the fact that my mind went to the worst." Dougie said quietly, licking his lips before adjusting his shoulders and looking at the jar again, "Thought she was dead."

And with that, he launched the pebble forward and it landed perfectly inside the jar.

Then, it was silent.

This was the first time in ages where she was sat with Dougie and it was dead silent.

Slowly, Carrie pulled her eyes from the jar and glanced over at Dougie who sat there, jaw clenched, fists balled at the curves of his knees.

"Dougie-"

"It's in the jar." Dougie said, pushing himself rather suddenly to his feet and wiping off his pants, "Just….glad everyone else is okay." Carrie looked up at him, watching as he adjusted his crusher cap to his head and then grabbed the white scarf he'd placed by Bessie's navigator chair.

"Wait. Dougie, wait-" Carrie said, pulling herself to her feet as he wrapped the scarf around, "I…..I thought…."

"We didn't know who had gotten hit, just that someone was wounded," Dougie said, glancing her way, "so hearing it was Margie, it was a lot. That's all. Especially after Faulkner. That shit stays with you." Then, Dougie fixed his cap and looked at her deeply.

"I thought it was you." he said, and then turned and jumped down right out of the plane. Carrie stood still, completely frozen for a moment, before shaking her head.

No, no, no.

He didn't get to just leave while saying that. To her. Carrie grabbed her crusher cap, shoving it on her head and jumped down out of the plane, feet landing on the tarmac. The wind had picked up since she had holed up inside the plane nose.

Turning her head, she watched Dougie walking away back towards the nissen huts and stood up, righting herself before hurrying after him.

"Dougie!" she called after him, "Dougie!" He didn't stop at her words and with the flurry of emotion in her body right now, everything inside her wanted to scream at him to stop and turn around and look at her. But that small child inside of her told he'd walk away. Everyone always walked away. Her eyes welled with tears that she tried to blink away.

"James!" she yelled and it seemed that caused him to stop, back straightening as he turned towards her, face set as he looked at her - where she was rapidly approaching him, casting her to gaze upwards at him as she stopped in front of him.

Breathing a bit heavier than she had wanted, she looked at him, his eyes narrowed, gaze darkened and anxiety swirling. She sucked in a breath.

"What the hell was that?" she managed out, watching him intently, trying to untangle and undo him in anyway, "You thought-"

"It's in the jar." Dougie said again, firmer this time, "It's over."

"No." Carrie said quickly, hanging onto every word from that second in the nose of Silver Bullets, "You thought…it was me? Why?" Her words were left out in the open, lingering in the air between them, the question unwrapped, awaiting an answer.

Dougie just watched her, his eyes searching hers as they flicked back and forth in her gaze, his head tilted, that crusher cap crooked on top his head again.

James Douglass had never openly voiced any sort of emotion towards her that didn't start with a joke and end with a smirk. And to be fair, neither had she. She had never thought of anything more than what their bickering and teasing was - something good natured, something to get you through the war. Carrie blinked.

"Dougie…." she started quietly, but instead he gently placed his hands on her shoulders and looked at her fully.

"Can I ask you something?" he said quietly, catching her completely off-guard. Carrie watched him, her heart continuing to pound - Dougie's eyes continuing to watch her - and she nodded.

"What is it?"

"Do you think I don't care about you?"

Now it was her turn to be silent.

Carrie stared at him.

Something inside of her wanted to cry.

"I…" Carrie started quietly, her throat choking up as she shut her mouth and cleared her throat, "I'm not…." She couldn't get her words out. Between him staring at her like that, her mind playing tricks on her, and her thoughts running wild, she couldn't even get herself to speak. He watched her as she cleared her throat.

"Not like that." she managed out, looking up at him as her eyes watered, letting out a shaky breath. There was so much said in the unsaid and with each passing second, the more her emotions were taking hold of her.

She thought of Margie in that moment - not only a crew member, and someone who had been there from the beginning, but a friend. Someone who was like a sister. Almost and nearly dead.

She thought of Birdie Faulkner, who had gotten this whole crew together in the first place - the whole reason she was here now - who was now dead and gone.

She thought of her family - back home in New York - her parents constantly gone, her siblings constantly asking for her, the long nights spent studying late at night, making up for lost time during the day. The times she had to skip school, get out of work early just to help her siblings - all the mouths that needed to be fed, the time that needed to be spent with to make sure they wouldn't end up like her, like Carrie.

How much she had put out and no one had cared.

Until she came to the Silver Bullets crew.

Until she'd been with other women who had felt pain just like she had.

Carrie's eyes welled with tears and she couldn't help but feel her chin shake and her lip wobble as Dougie watched her. She let out a weak whimper before sniffling and putting down her head to shake away the emotion.

"I'm sorry." she managed out, voice high-pitched.

"You don't have to apologize for anything." Dougie said quietly as she shook her head.

"I shouldn't be crying like this-"

"It's okay, Carrie."

"I'm sorry-"

"Carrie." Dougie said quietly, looking down at her with a tender look, "You don't have to say sorry." She looked at him, a few stray tears crawling down her cheeks as she nodded.

"Here." Dougie said, pulling the white scarf from his neck and handing it to her as she wiped at her eyes.

"Thanks." she managed out, sniffling as she took in the soft scent of the scarf - God, it smelled like him. So much like him. Even if he was standing right here. Him, that cologne he always wore - him.

"I'm serious though." Dougie said, nodding, before chuckling slightly - whether it was his nerves or how close they were standing, "I thought it was you. Couldn't help it. I hear the words Silver Bullets and there you are in my mind." Carrie looked up at him, managing the tiniest hint of a smile and laughed slightly, a stray tear falling down her cheek.

"It's just been a lot, that's all," she managed out, her voice struggling to break again, "especially after Birdie. And now Margie." Carrie squeezed her eyes shut, and wiped at her eyes, sniffling. Dougie placed a hand on her shoulder, softly rubbing his thumb against the exposed part of her neck, before looking to her.

"It's in the jar, Carrie." he said quietly, "Right?" She looked up at him. Then, she broke out in a smile, before a small, watery laugh escaped her lips. Lightly, she smacked the feather-light scarf at him before chuckling again.

"What?" he said with a chuckle, "It got you laughing, didn't it?" She looked up at him and managed to hold the smile for a bit longer.

"Yeah," she said quietly, "thanks for that." They grew quiet and he watched her, nodding.

"Come get some dinner, alright?" he said and she nodded. Slowly, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she glanced up at him with a small smile. Pulling her into his side, he grinned at her.

"C'mon, Bergie, who else would I be able to crack a joke with and get my own balls broken with at the same time?"

"Oh shut the fuck up." Carrie said with a chuckle as Dougie grinned.

"Nah, nah, I'm being serious, who else, huh? Lieutenant Bradshaw?"

"She'd only break your balls and then some." Dougie laughed, before looking at her with a small grin.

"C'mon," he said as they began walking towards the mess hall, "I'll buy you a drink after." Carrie smirked.

"What a gentleman." she whispered with a snicker.

"Remind me about the last time I bought you a drink-"

"Oh don't you even DARE start with that, Dougie-"

"I have every opportunity to take it back-"

"Dougie!" He looked at her with a grin. Her eyes softened.

"Thanks again." she said quietly, for caring.

Softly, without much of a word, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of her head underneath her lopsided crusher cap, before continuing to walk forward beside her.

"Thank you." she whispered under her breath, side of her head warm where his lips had just pressed - small, hardly even a peck, but enough for her body to go hot, her mind to scramble. Thank you for caring, she wanted to say, for me, about me, with me.

Thank you for caring for me.

32 notes · View notes

notsosunnydae · 3 months

Text

I have been reading Kaiju No. 8: B-Side and I love how it shows that the author cares for his characters and plot. Every character has their growth and each of them is given a chance to EAT every time. I truly love that.

Kaiju No. 8: B-Side is like a side-story where we get to know more about the characters, and it answers some of the viewers’ questions. It’s a light read and not really necessary, however, you’d most likely read it for its soft and lovable stories. <333

[Mild Spoilers below the cut]

We get to see Hoshina’s backstory of how he got in to Third Division.

How Kikoru got her own customized weapon + hints of her crush (the admiration type, please some fans are weird) on Kafka and it’s so cute.

Finally, we get to see Narumi’s backstory and his awakening.

#manga recommendation #Kaiju No. 8: B-Side #manga #kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #kikoru shinomiya #gen narumi

26 notes · View notes

starlightiing · 3 months

Text

Everything Ends || M || Pierre Gasly & Nyck de Vries

Title: Everything Ends

Rating: Mature (Violence).

Warnings: Blood, light gore, character death.

Pairing: Gen, Pierre/Nyck if you squint

Based on this BEAUTIFUL. STUNNING. GORGEOUS. (tw blood!!!) Piece of art work from @allphatauri - I am begging you to go reblog the art, it is beautiful and I had the honor of watching it come alive before my eyes on stream in my F1 Server <333 This fic was heavily inspired by Nyck and Pierre's story. There may be a part two with Liam and Yuki's.... B)

His heartbeat roars in his ears the moment his eyes focus on Pierre. He’s sprawled on the ground almost like a ragdoll, skin pale and visibly clammy. The twitch of his chest is faint, barely-there, with breaths that come so quickly it makes Nyck feel like he’s the one starving for oxygen.

And perhaps he is. He realizes, now, that he hasn’t taken a breath since stumbling upon Pierre’s body.

In stark contrast to the paleness of Pierre’s skin are the splashes of deep crimson splattered across his chest and dribbling down from his lips. Nyck stumbles forward, his feet betraying his mind’s need to see and understand exactly what has happened by following his heart’s hesitance at experiencing Pierre’s last moments of life.

No, no, surely not. Surely there’s something –

“Pierre?” Nyck whispers, his voice gentle and weak as he pushes himself forward, trembling legs be damned. He collapses as soon as he makes it to Pierre’s side, taking in the magnitude of the wound. There is a gash in his chest he had not noticed before, angry and red and bubbling with every breath Pierre tries to take. The blood pouring from his lips makes sense, now, with the blunt force trauma to his chest so obvious.

His lungs - they must be -

“Pierre, Pierre, please.” Nyck tries again, his voice louder and more urgent as he reaches a quivering hand forward to test the pulse at Pierre’s neck. The beat is feather soft and all but non-existent, like his heart is merely whispering within the confines of his ribs instead of singing with power the way Nyck is so used to. The way he breathes sends a shiver down Nyck’s spine and straight to the core of his soul. The inhales are wet - gurgled and shallow, with a desperation of a rasp to pull air into lungs that may not have the space left in them for oxygen anymore. The exhales are almost worse, rattling with blood that continues to bubble out from the corner of Pierre’s lips. He is choking, suffocating, on the very same blood meant to keep him alive.

Nyck swallows a mouthful of bile and nearly vomits on the spot. He moves his hand from Pierre’s neck to the side of his face, and only then do hazy, unfocused blue eyes flutter open to meet his gaze.

“Pierre! Hang on, okay? Just hang on. I will get someone to help, just - just don’t go anywhere.” it hurts too much to say ‘don’t die’ even if that is exactly what he means. There is a spark of recognition in Pierre’s eyes that lasts the span of a heartbeat, before that clarity becomes fear, and then that fear becomes chilling horror. Nyck’s blood runs cold at the expression on Pierre’s face, and he grabs his bloody cheeks between both of his hands. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s alright.”

“Run,” Pierre chokes, coughing up an alarming mouthful of blood. He barely manages to pull in a breath to finish his plea, “Please, run. Now.”

“What? I - I will, I will run and get help.” Nyck assures him, though the fear in Pierre’s eyes only seems to grow. Confusion settles over him like a thick and heavy blanket, one that has him trapped and struggling to squirm his way out.

A soft flicker of movement twists the shadows around Pierre’s body, and Nyck whirls around so quickly it nearly makes his head spin. A gasp claws its way up from the back of his throat when his eyes settle on another presence, a man, looming over him far too close for comfort. He startles, scrambling backwards until his hand accidentally hits Pierre’s arm, and only then does he sober up enough to recognize the man’s face. The panic quells, and his frantic breaths begin to calm as he pulls himself back up to his feet.

“Christian! Please, Pierre – something’s happened to Pierre. We need to get him help, he can’t breathe.”

Christian remains stoically calm, and Nyck watches as his eyes trail down to Pierre, still struggling for air on the ground. Nothing flickers across his face, not one single flash of surprise, of pity, of empathy -

He merely watches Pierre for a moment, head cocked to the side in interest, before his eyes finally trail their way back up to Nyck.

“I’m afraid it’s too late for him, Nyck. He made his bed, and now he has to lie in it.”

“He…what?”

At that moment, Pierre makes a strangled sort of sound, something that is suspiciously close to Nyck’s own name garbled through a mouth full of blood and breathless lungs. Nyck looks back down at him, noticing the way his chest no longer moves and his eyes, oh, god, his eyes - they’re glassing over. There’s still life left in them, a defiant spark against his fate, but it is merely a blip, destined to fade out.

Nyck feels Christian’s hands on him in the exact second Pierre’s eyes flutter closed, followed by a burst of fire and pain that erupts at the center of his neck. Just as soon as Christian’s arms had grabbed hold of him, they’re gone, and Nyck looks down to see blood pooling from his neck, dripping onto Pierre’s lifeless body on the ground. His heart roars viciously in his ears, pounding away and unhelpfully spilling more blood even quicker as his hands come up in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

“What did - what did you -” Nyck sputters, stumbling on his feet as blood crowds his throat and pours from him quicker than he can attempt to stop it. He turns, and Christian is gone completely from sight. It’s almost like he dreamed him up, like he was never really there at all.

But the gaping wound in his neck says otherwise. As quickly as the blood spills, so too does his consciousness and strength wane. He sways slightly, before his knees completely buckle and he falls listlessly to the ground, ragdolled next to Pierre. Fear ignites in his veins, a strong sense of self preservation running through him as he tries to push through.

But mere will alone is not enough to fight the demons of blood loss. It is not enough to clear his airway or keep his heart pumping in his chest. It was not enough for Pierre, either, whose body is cooling rapidly beside Nyck. This is not where he wants to die, this isn’t where he wants things to end –

But, he thinks hopelessly, it surely wasn’t where Pierre wanted his life to end, either.

“P-Pierre…” Nyck gasps, coughing out blood with a horrendous gurgling sound. He can’t breathe, oh he can’t breathe, and is this what Pierre felt only moments ago when he was gasping like a fish out of water to pull anything into his crowded lungs? If Nyck had the energy, he would be sick. “Pierre.”

Logically, Nyck knows Pierre is already dead. He watched him take his last breath, with Nyck’s name pressed against his dying lips. He can see the stillness of his chest, and yet he still desperately calls for something, anything.

Anything he can have, anything his slippery, bloody little hands can grab on to, not to die alone.

“Pierre!” he calls out again, desperately, spitting blood from his mouth in the process. His next inhale provides him with a lungful of blood, and he begins to choke feebly against the same forces that took Pierre from him.

The struggle for air hurts more than he ever imagined it could, the way his chest burns and aches and spasms for oxygen that can no longer make it in. His entire body shakes viciously with the need to breathe, god he just wants to breathe -

It’s only a few moments later his head hits the ground right next to Pierre’s, his lips only centimeters away from the shell of Pierre’s ear. He heaves a dry sob, which makes it no further than the drowning mess of his crushed lungs, and wheezes out, “Please. I’m so sorry, Pierre.”

His heartbeat stumbles, falters, and then halts as soon as the words leave his bloodstained lips.

“I truly must thank you boys for your time, commitment, and service to Red Bull Racing and Alpha Tauri. Unfortunately for you, it seems you were just not compatible. Those services will no longer be needed, and may you take your shameful display of performances with you to your grave.”

#pierre gasly #nyck de vries #nyckierre #f1 fanfic #f1blr #f1 rpf #alpha tauri #rbr #christian horner jumpscare #tw: blood #tw: gore #tw: death #yuki tsunoda #liam lawson

20 notes · View notes