#for the life of me i cant remember his name but i always laugh when i remember that

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Dancing in the Courthouse

♥ masterlist | request rules | part of my 1k event

♥ pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

♥ synopsis: In 2021 you and oscar decided to elope due to your unpredictable schedules. now that you have more stability in your life, you were able to throw a dream wedding with the man you loved most in the world.

♥ smau + written - as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: first fic apart of the 1k event!

-Paris, 2021-

The streets of Paris were bustling as you took a seat in your Uber. You could hear a Taylor Swift song playing faintly on the car's radio as you pulled out your phone.

You

hey osc I'm on my way back

Oscar checked the notification and panicked a little internally. He slipped the device back into his dress pants and shook his hands.

"Relax, tout ira bien," Estie assured Oscar. (translation: everything will be fine)

He sighed and turned towards the two French men, "Are you sure?"

All Pierre did was laugh.

"Call me when it's over," Pierre said with a smirk and guided Esteban out the door, into an elevator.

You were in France on a girls night out with your best friend Kika, whom you met through Formula 1. Little did the two of you know that Pierre and Esteban snuck over to your hotel room in order to help Oscar set up a surprise.

You tapped your keycard on your hotel door and called out your boyfriend's name. You set your purse down on a small marble table and kicked off your heels, making your way through the main room.

A small trail of pink rose petals guided you to the terrace causing your heartbeat to pick up.

Was this really happening?

You opened the glass doors to find more rose petals surrounding the floor and a very handsome Oscar. You strode over to him in complete shock until he grabbed your hands in his.

"Y/n you have been my best friend for as long as I can remember," he said as his thumb drew circles on one of your fingers. "You have stood by me since the beginning of my career and I could never imagine a life without you. I know we don't get to spend as much time together as we'd like to, but that is why I wanted to do this today."

He slowly got down on one knee in front of you and pulled out a black velvet box to reveal a silver ring.

"Will you marry me?"

You squatted down to his height and mumbled, "Is that even a question?"

You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him gently, "Yes of course I will."

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-July 4, 2024-

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, lilymhe, and 300,572 more

ynln london girl

📸 creds: @/oscarpiastri

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user1 lmao the oscar picture creds

oscarpiastri I risked my life for that first pic

ynln @/oscarpiastri you were on another balcony?

user3 if anyone risked their life for that picture it's Alex

user2 speaking of alex she looks SO pretty there

carlossainz55 red nails for ferrari

ynln anything for you carlitos 😽

iamrebeccad so so true and real

user4 pretties

user9 lets all manifest an oscar win for this weekend

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, nicolepiastri, hattiepiastri, and 1,481,583 more

ynpiastri oops I guess the cat is out of the bag huh! the rumors are in fact true, oscar and I are married. we have been trying to keep it a secret since our elope in 2021, but it seems as though I slipped up with a photo on my insta. at least it was the perfect timing for the reception we're throwing this summer 🥰

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nicolepiastri see you at the sequel wedding!!

ynpiastri <3

user1 ...sorry?

user8 PARDON

user12 THEY'RE ACTUALLY MARRIED

user2 POOKIE YOU CANT JUST POST A SHIRTLESS OSCAR LIKE THAT

user7 her username change I am so endeared

mclaren how many of you knew...

logansargeant I did

alexandrasaintmleux I did

charles_leclerc I did

landonorris I DIDNT?!?!

landonorris @/oscarpiastri how come charles knew before me

charles_leclerc @/landonorris he's my son???

iamrebeccad I'm so happy for you!

ynpiastri tysm becks 🥹🫶

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, and 123,740 more

wagupdates the girlies pulling up to the belgian paddock

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user1 the color scheme 🛐

user2 PLS did they plan this for y/n’s wedding?

wagupdates @/user2 we think so!!

oscarpiastri I guess I need to step up my fashion game

charles_leclerc @/oscarpiastri I can help 😁

ynpiastri @/charles_leclerc no you cannot

user7 I love them

user4 they're GORGEOUS

francolapinto 😘

user8 ITS MR STEAL YOUR GIRL

user3 HAHAHA

user9 FRANCO Y/N IS MARRIED

charles_leclerc @/francocolapinto Te sugiero que elijas sabiamente tus próximas palabras (I suggest you choose your next words wisely)

francolapinto sorry sorry! its a joke its a joke 😅

user10 the threatening spanish 😭

carlossainz55 @/user10 I taught him that

fernandoalo_oficial @/carlossainz55 and I taught YOU that

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by pierregasly, ynpiastri, carmenmundt, and 563,885 more

francisca.cgomes rich bitch energy

tagged; @/ynpiastri @/alexandrasaintmleux

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user1 are you shopping for dresses

francisca.cgomes mayybbe

ynpiastri GORGEOUS

francisca.cgomes NO YOU 😚

aussiegrit @/nicolepiastri do i get to walk oscar down the aisle

nicolepiastri no 😐

charles_leclerc that’s right because i am

user2 the family seating is gonna go crazy lol

user5 so what’s the dog situation?

landonorris bark

ynpiastri @/landonorris NO 😭

user5 I MEANT LEO AND ROSCOE 💀

ynpiastri @/user5 leo we know is definitely going to be there! 🥰

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Wedding Day-

liked by alex_albon, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, and 1,749,053 more

ynpiastri 💍

tagged; @/francisca.cgomes

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danielricciardo 🥹

pierregasly vous êtes tous les deux magnifiques (you both look gorgeous)

user6 the fact that kika is her maid of honor

user7 IM NOT CRYING

user4 the venue is STUNNING

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

There was a salty ocean breeze on a cliff-side of Monaco, the place you and Oscar picked for the wedding.

There were dozens of familiar faces along with beautiful greenery and pastel flowers decorating the space.

You were sat at your table with your husband Oscar as the toast’s began to start.

“Hi,” someone said into the mic with a smile. “I’m Kika.”

There were a few soft laughs from the crowd. She pulled a piece of paper out of her gold-colored dress.

“When I found out you eloped without me that day in Paris my first thought was ‘fuck you’.” she said causing some more chuckles to come from the guests.

“It was only because I wouldn’t get the chance to give you the speech I had planned—but here we are today and I’m so glad I finally get to say it. Over these past couple years you have been my best friend, in and outside the paddock. I have so much love for you and I couldn’t be happier for your relationship with Oscar.”

You got up from your seat and hugged her, eliciting a few ‘aws’ from the room.

Lando stood up next with the mic, “Oscar was the guy on the grid no one could shut the up about,” Lando spoke into the mic and everyone laughed. “I didn’t get it at first, but then I met him, and I got it. And I felt the same when I met Y/n. You two are lucky to have each other. Congrats, mate.”

He raised his glass of champagne causing everyone to clink their glasses and cheer.

liked by lewishamilton, aussiegrit, nicolepiastri, and 1,937,954 more

ynpiastri wifey

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user1 this is so cunty

wagupdates we heard that y/n’s heel broke and oscar had to carry her to the car (hence the last picture) 😭

user7 she is SO pretty

patriciooward great to see you again osc!

user6 I. LOVE. THEM.

user2 omg they’re so hot

user3 y/n’s outfits today >>>

lilymhe the reception was beautiful

ynpiastri <3

[columboscreens]

Something very unfortunate, but my enthusiasm for columbo has made my friend, for some reason, not like him! How can they not like him? D: He's just a little guy!

honestly? i totally understand. and i run this blog.

columbo is likeable because we always see his best qualities. he does valiant work at a noble job. he's strong, he's intelligent; he's kind, he's just. he makes the right deductions and then makes sure he's right before acting upon them. he's played by peter falk. so yeah, most people want to kick back and have a beer with columbo, even (especially?) some of the people he puts in handcuffs.

but for a second, wash columbo of his charm, kindness, and intellect: the man is an evil fucking bastard. he is naturally annoying--one of his superpowers, which he knows and exploits. he is calculating, devious, manipulative. his overly polite, ingratiating manner wears very thin very quickly, doubly so if he's choosing to play especially dumb. he's a sadistic, disgusting, deceptive little troll who drops by unannounced and practically forces his way into your house, occupying it when it seems like he doesn't even need to be there, flaunting his authority. on top of it all he insists on billowing that cheap, stinking cigar smoke in your face, dropping ashes everywhere while smiling so smugly, so condescendingly, that you want to wring his little neck, his mumbling voice dripping with feigned apology all the while. he asks if you can use your phone, but not really, because he's actually telling you he's using it as he picks it up and makes a call before you can even open your mouth.

through it all, he outright implies that you or someone you love is a homicidal maniac.

then he fucking breaks your television. suddenly, mrs. peck becomes very sympathetic

now i'll ask you to imagine that, on top of all the aforementioned, columbo was, even once, wrong about who the killer was. i am asking you to sit there and imagine the most endearing waterboarding session you can. imagine subjecting an innocent human being to a punishment so cruel and unusual. imagine, as peter falk himself described, that a bunch of little ducks are nibbling at you, pecking at you in a hellish, promethean bid to get you to finally scream to the heavens in confession for your crime.

columbo is eminently lovable, but that love hinges entirely on the fact that he's always right. because if he isn't, he's worse than merely annoying--he's evil.

[midmourn]

like the movies

♡ nct dream ﹒ gender neutral!reader genre fluff, slice of life, angst, suggestive warnings language, suggestive on jeno’s, brief death joke on haechan’s note if yall have any requests let me know 🫶 here’s the tropes if you can’t tell: mark: best friends to lovers. renjun: enemies to lovers. jeno: fwb. haechan: fake dating. jaemin: second chance. chenle: arranged marriage. jisung: brother’s best friend. i cant remember who inspired this but i do know it was for enhypen lol ( masterlist )

resting on his elbow on your bed, mark’s mouth is agape as he stares at you, blinking furiously. was he dreaming? you, who stood in front of the floor length mirror, smooth down your clothes for non-existent dust and smile to yourself, “okay, how about this outfit?” you wait a few seconds before frowning, “mark? hello— mark?” you wave a hand in front of him and he jolts, “wha—? oh, um, yeah, it’s great. you look really good— … dude.” he winces inwardly at the name, but you don’t bat an eye at it and frown at his seemingly insincere words. “you’re right, it’s bad. i’m going to change.” mark catches your hand with a laugh, “dude, no! seriously, you look really— …” he trails off, looking hesitant to say the next word, even though he’s said it so many times before so easily. what was different now? “— pretty. gorgeous,” he says it without even thinking, realizing it the moment you smile bashfully, ducking your head to your chest to try and hide it but failing miserably. he studies your face for a second, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. and— oh. he wants to kiss you so bad. you, his best friend. oh. oh shit.

renjun doesn’t know when the lines blurred from enemies to frenemies to … lovers? crushes? all he knows is that the burning rage that used to fill him every time your mouth opened was now replaced with warmth spreading over his chest and the urge to kick his feet while giggling. words neither of you would dare to speak around your mothers, intended to hurt, were replaced with teasing, playful words with no hint of malice. your head turns swiftly, knocking him out of his daydream as you raise an eyebrow at him, “take a picture, maybe it’ll last longer.” cheeks flushing a subtle red, his eyes narrow at you, “you might break my camera.” but his pinky creeping towards yours and lips curling up at the ends says how he really thinks. you smile, flipping your hand over and making the first move to intertwine your fingers. his heart stuttered in his chest, “i— you—” you laugh, squeezing his hand once before going back to your textbook. and, yeah, he was certain he’s never felt this before.

“if you squeeze any harder, i think you’ll break the glass,” mark attempts at a joke to diffuse the tension radiating off jeno. jeno’s lips barely twitched up as he glanced down at the glass in his hand before setting it to the side, done drinking for the night. he didn’t feel like it anymore when he saw how closely some guy holds you to his side, hand on your waist. he didn’t like the funny feeling it gave him and he could only imagine how it’d feel when alcohol was added into the equation. “jeno, dude, when are you gonna make a move? you guys have been—” he glances around, checking for eavesdroppers even though the music was far too loud for anyone to hear, “—messing around for months, basically a couple without the label. and you know there’s more people interested in y/n than just him.” the two look back to the opposite side of the room where the guy was whispering something in your ear, a smirk on his face. “you need to tell them you want something more than just fuck buddies. or else you’ll lose them forever.”

“you— WHAT?” haechan winces as your voice grows louder in his ear, casting a quick look around to see if anyone could hear you through the phone. “hyuck! what the fuck?” “don’t act like it wouldn’t be a privilege to date me,” haechan scoffs playfully, hiding his nervousness behind humor; as he always did with his emotions. “i’d rather die.” “okay, well, please! my mom’s already told everyone in my family that i’m bringing someone, including my sisters!” the mention of his sisters have you going quiet, and he hopes you’re thinking about it on the other end. “god, haechan— i—” you sigh in frustration, “how was my name the first name to pop up in that tiny brain of yours?” he ignores the jab, thinking back to that moment. truthfully, he already knew why you were the first name to pop up in his head when his mom mentioned bringing a date to his family reunion. but you didn’t need to know that. not right now, at least. “you weren’t, you were actually my last choice but all my other choices would’ve said no,” he teases, hearing you scoff in disbelief and he grins. “whatever. you’re lucky i love your sisters and hate letting them down.” “and me?” he raises an eyebrow, maybe a hint of hope in his voice. “you wish.” he does.

jaemin swears he’s dreaming when he looks up and sees you. never in a million years did he think you would come back home. not when you tried so hard to leave, anyway. you’re across the aisle, switching your gaze between two spices in your hands when you feel the back of your neck prickling. your head lifts, making eye contact with jaemin immediately. your breath catches, the world freezing around you as the two of you stared at one another. jaemin had only seen glimpses of you through social media the last four years, living your life in some prestigious university with your dream job and dream life in america. he watched your life through pictures like he used to watch you sleep. you break first, raising a hand to wave shyly at him, attempting a weak smile as you didn’t know how he’d react. jaemin abandoned his cart, walking closer to you as you set the spices into your cart. “hi,” you breathe out once he stands in front of you. for years, it seemed like you could never catch your breath, always missing just one thing. and now, it seemed like a breath of fresh air, standing in front of him. his lips turned up into a soft smile, eyes shining as he said softly, “hi.”

the hotel room is silent as chenle unlocks the door with the cardkey, letting you in first and doing a quick check of his surroundings before following in. he listens to the click of the lock, eyes following your movements as you grab a change of clothes and your skincare items from your suitcase. he loosens the tie around his neck, kicking his dress shoes off and turning his back towards you. he doesn’t intend on saying anything, knowing that this situation is definitely not your favorite thing in the world. while he wished it was on his own terms, he liked that it was you. it was only ever you for him. you just didn’t know that. “chenle?” he hums in reply, shrugging off his suit jacket and throwing it on the loveseat. “you don’t … hate me, do you?” his head snaps up, brows furrowing, “what?” the word comes out incredulous and you bite your lip, embarrassment sinking in as your cheeks begin to feel warm. “i … i know this isn’t ideal, but for me, i know it’s not the worst thing in the world.” he blinks at you. you smile slightly at his dumbfounded expression, “i was angry at first, and i was so … betrayed. but, i’m glad it’s you.” you don’t expect a response, heading into the bathroom quietly. he smiles to himself once he fully registers what you just said. i’m glad it’s you. he was, too.

from your spot on the armchair, you watch as jisung rises from his seat on the couch, next to your brother. “i’m getting a drink, anyone want anything?” the rest of your friends and your brother’s friends chime in with their answers, and you wait a second for anyone to get up and follow after him. but no one does. you smile to yourself before standing, “i’m going to help him, since you assholes won’t.” your brother waves you off, too far into the video game to give a better reply. you sneak up behind jisung, sliding your cold hands up under his t-shirt and he jumps, neck twisting to look at you. “ah!” he says a little too loudly, and you shush him. you stay silent before you hear shouts of excitement and disappointment from the living room, turning back to him. “what if—” he starts to say. “as far as they know, i’m helping you with the drinks and snacks,” you poke him in his ribs and he jumps, making you snicker. you stare into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, enjoying the small moment you’ve rarely got since you all came home from college for the summer. at the thought, your face falls and jisung frowns, brushing a stray hair away from your eyes, “what’s wrong?” you shake your head, not wanting to ruin the moment but he insists. “i … i really want to tell him, ji.” you frown, watching his face carefully. “the longer we keep this a secret, the more he’ll be mad. i think we should just rip the bandaid off.” at his hesitation, you sigh and step away from him, making him take a step forward to close the distance again. “jisung, if we’re really serious about this, we have to tell him at some time.” you hesitate, “… are you serious about me?” his eyes widen, “what? yeah, i am. i’ve been serious about you since we were seventeen. i…” he looks shy, “you’re it for me. you’ve always been.” your cheeks heat up, eyes darting away shyly at his words as you allow him to close more distance between you two and press a meaningful kiss to your lips. “we’ll tell him … after everyone leaves, okay? i don’t want to hide anymore. i didn’t like it in the first place.”

[reallyromealone]

Back to you part 2

Angst, omegaverse, male reader

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

(name) just stared at the blond man holding him close, this is what he wanted for years.

Its what he dreamt of.

But more than anything?

He was absolutely filled with a rage he didn't think was possible.

"Shit--" Mikey was pushed away from him as an angry omega glared at him "I lost my baby because of you" (name) spat out, body shaking not from fear but from everything Mikey's actions had put him through emotionally and physically. "(Name) it was for--" "I dont give a FUCK what it was about, all I know is one day my mate is there and the next hes dead! I HELD A FUNERAL FOR ALL OF YOU! I LOST MY BROTHERS! I THOUGHT MY ENTIRE FAMILY HAD DIED!" (Name) screamed as he pushed mikey back, the Alpha letting him do this because... He knew be deserved this.

"You promised Manjiro" (name) had fat tears rolling down his face "I was holding your grandfather's hand as he passed, did you know that? While you were off doing god knows what? Instead of seeing his last living grandchild he saw the broken grandchilds mate who he abandoned" (name)s voice was venemous as he looked at mikey dead in the eyes. "Those closest to my heart faked their deaths and abandoned me" (name) was now laughing and Mikey never felt fear in a long time but for once?

He was terrified.

(Name)s face went serious as he stormed out and into what seemed to be a lounge "(name), its a pleasure to see you again" Ran said calmly, assuming the poor heartbroken omega would run into his alphas arms.

But he was dead wrong.

"Get the fuck away from me before I burn this god forsaken building to the ground" (name) said coldly as they looked to see Mikey looking disheveled but not in a post sex way, in a he got his ass beat way.

"(Name) we can explain" Kakucho tried to appease the half-feral omega who wanted nothing more tham to beat the ever living shit out of them "I dont need one" (name)s tone was cold "You guys wanted to play crime lord without an omega keeping the boss weak" (name) said simply, it was obvious despite his rage "you guys killed his heir by the way also this piss idea made him look like absolute shit"

"Watch --" Sanzu was cut off with a harsh glare "watch what Haruchiyo? Watch the fact my loved ones live their happiest lives as i deal with the loss of literally my entire family? The child I was going to tell my Mate about when he was supposed to get home? Only to find out he died with everyone else and THEN after years find out oh look theyre alive and living the life of luxury" (name) gave a cold cruel laugh "elaborate to me, what should I be watching?"

They remember how (name) was before they left, sweet and always deverted to Mikey no matter what.

This?

This was a stranger.

A changed person.

A person hurt beyond repair.

"I spent my life mourning a fucking lie" (name) said almost methodically.

"I wasted my life mourning a man who clearly didnt love me"

"I did love you" Mikey was forceful as he grabbed his mates shoulders and looked at him with a desperate expression, the face of a man who wasnt ready to lose his mate "dont you love me?"

"I always loved you" (name)s voice was empty "but I also know betrayal, you betrayed me... You all did"

"And didn't you teach me never negotiate with traitors?"

The room halted as mikey looked at him horrified "you cant leave " Mikey said almost begging "what like how you left me? At least im giving you a warning" (name) fired back and tried to escape mikeys hold but the alpha held him tight.

"Please..." He begged and (name) was cold.

"Where was my chance to plead for you to stay? Why do you always get the options?" (Name) snapped as he started struggling to get out of his hold, it seemed after all these years mikey got stronger somehow.

(Name)s inner Omega pleaded with him to accept their alpha but (name) absolutely refused.

What mikey did was beyond exuse.

(Name)s body went limp as he spoke "after this, I dont think I can look at you guys... At least for a very long time..."

The room was filled with so many negative emotions, it was almost suffocating.

(Name) eventually broke free and wandered to the elevator, the guards looking at Mikey for what to do and the alpha rushed to hold (name) "p-please..."

"Keeping me here wont fix things"

"Please let me fix this...please"

[inthedoghousern]

just this once

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!driver!reader

summary: you and oscar are what people would describe as rivals. but a night in monaco, a club, an elevator, and confessions can change everything.

contains: 18+, suggestive content, swearing probably idk, drinking + alcohol, events leading up to sex (?) but nothing too graphic, kinda fluff and angst

5.5k words

a/n: this is too long and there's very little characterization but enjoy i suppose... part II: okay part III: 11:45

You were smiling as you chatted with a guy at the party. The music was blasting around you and the lights were colorful. You were in Monaco, celebrating your first Grand Prix here. Despite being a rookie, you had placed second in the race, an impressive and historic performance, especially since you were the first woman to do it. 

It felt like the whole weekend had been revolving around you. At the track, there was a sea of fans, journalists, and even employees from other teams coming up to congratulate and talk to you. Now here at the club, it was the same, with stranger after stranger wanting a slice of your attention. 

"So how long are you in Monaco?" He asked leaning against the high-top table, with a sly smile on his lips. “We should see each other again.” Before you could answer, you heard a voice behind you. 

"She's cant, we've got more racing to do. It's the job." You rolled your eyes, the familiar voice belonged to no other than Oscar Piastri. 

You and Oscar’s friendship, if you could even call it that, was complicated. What started as kinship during karting years turned into resentment as you made your way up the motorsport ranks together. F4 British Championship, the Renault Eurocup, F3, F2, the two of you were always close competitors, but Oscar always had an edge. You’d be runner-up to his championships, watched as he got a seat in Formula One while all you could do was keep racing in lower divisions and hope you could prove to any team that you would be a valuable driver. 

But now you’ve made it, it’s your rookie season and you’ve finally started to beat Oscar, and it helps when you’re in a Red Bull. Podium after podium after podium, you’ve already blown Oscar’s impressive rookie stats out of the water. As a result, the rivalry between you has only grown bigger. 

“Oh Oscar you actually weren’t involved in this conversation,” you say giving him a fake sweet smile. He claims he can’t stand you, but here he is going out of his way to make your night difficult. Typical. 

You turn back to the guy in front of you. His name was Alex… William…? You honestly didn’t remember and had no interest in finding out, but it was amusing to see him throw himself at you. Amusing that Oscar came over and has to witness it. "I'm actually here for a few more days," you tell him. You pull your phone out of your bag and slide it towards the unnamed guy. “Put your number in. We can set something up later.” The guy smiles, and you fight back a laugh as Oscar still stands at the table with you two. You had no intention of ever texting or speaking to this man again. 

-

The night goes by in a blur. You’ve lost the guy you were talking to earlier and make your way to the bar to order another drink. Your life feels like some sick joke when Oscar slides up next to you and orders himself another round too. “That guy looked like a prick,” he says. 

You chuckle and nod your head in agreement. “Yeah, he did look like a prick."

The media and fans had characterized Oscar as this nice, young, shy guy. But the Oscar you knew was deathly competitive with a bit of a mean streak. 

“Why do you care though?” I ask turning to him, cocking my head to the side. “Care what guys I talk to at parties? I mean, if that dude was Zak Brown, sure, I’d see why you’d stop me from stealing your seat, but….” I taunt. 

"Alright watch it," he said while shaking his head. You roll your eyes, you know that he can’t do anything in retaliation to your teasing. You were the star now, you were his rival [who’s winning] and you were untouchable.

You finish your drink and turn to the dance floor, “see ya Oscar,” you say flashing him a smile. You can feel his eyes burning your back as you walk away.  

-

This club felt like a time warp. As you danced and talked and drank, you saw gridmates and girlfriends walk past, at one point Lando was up at the DJ booth. Your head is fuzzy and you don’t know what time it is. You push through sweaty bodies to the tables surrounding the room, shuffling around to find your things. Finally, you’re able to find your bag, and luckily your phone is still inside, so you make your way out of the club. You need some quiet and fresh air as you sort out transportation back to the hotel. You were throwing in the towel for the night. 

Outside the music was still spilling from the doors, filling your ears with the sounds from the club. You checked your phone, trying to get it to work. Your vision was slightly blurred from all the alcohol, you were probably drunk.

“Hey,” you hear, it’s him, again. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard Oscar's voice coming from behind you. You couldn't help but feel some nerves running through your body. You had just spent the night ignoring him and now he was here. You didn't turn around to look at him, you weren't sure what would happen if you did.

With your phone finally unlocked, you call an Uber. With that task finished, you turn, feeling wobbly, and when you look at Oscar he looks just as drunk as you. “Hey.”

“I’m leaving,” you tell him. 

"I'll leave with you," Oscar responds immediately, sounding annoyed. "Why do you have to leave so soon?" He asked. 

“Leave so soon? We've been here for hours,” you reply. You don’t address his first statement, but your mind is circling the fact he just decided he was coming with you. He didn’t even ask if he could, if you wanted him to, he just announced it. 

"Doesn't mean it's time to go," Oscar said as he stepped closer. He put his hands on your shoulders, his breath smelling like alcohol. "Why don't we go back inside?" He asked. What was he thinking? You didn't pull away, it was the alcohol. You couldn't stop your mind from being hazy, you couldn't help the sensations of his hand on your shoulder. You put your hands on his biceps in response and look at him in the eyes. “No Oscar, I’m leaving.” 

For a moment, everything felt as if it was going in slow motion. Oscar stood there, his hands on your shoulders, as you looked directly at the most beautiful most infuriating guy you had ever known. You spoke firmly, but it was clear that you were struggling. Oscar was drunk and stubborn as always, he wasn't letting this go easily.

“Hmmm?” I muse. My brain is so fuzzy I almost don’t notice his grip on my shoulders tightening. “I’m leaving Oscar. You can share my Uber back to the hotel, go back inside, or do something else. But I’m going.” Oscar said nothing. He was breathing heavily against you, his grip tightening even more. For some reason, his grip felt good.

"I'll go with you," he said, finally, his voice was low. “Alright,” you respond. You stand, he's still holding your shoulders, your hands still on his biceps. You don't know how long passes, but the Uber pulls up to the curb and you both let go of each other. You climb into the back seat and Oscar sits next to you, his body barely a foot away from yours.

The journey to the hotel is mostly silent, but you catch Oscar stealing glances at you.

“Looks like you partied a little hard for P9, no?” You tease. "Shut up," Oscar grumbled, you were pushing him right to his limits. You knew that he was angry, but you couldn't help but poke fun at him. You felt good when you could get one over on him for once. For the rest of the ride to the hotel, Oscar is silent. Every time you look at him, he quickly looks away. It was a side of him that you had rarely seen, the way he looked so unsure and uncomfortable.

-

You both step out of the Uber and walk into the hotel. It's late at night and the lobby is almost empty. Oscar follows you into the elevator, you can feel the heat from his body radiating against you. The elevator doors close and you are in your own little world. He presses the button to his floor: 6, and you press the button to yours: 9. You both stand side by side as the elevator slowly moves up. 

The elevator rises, and just like the car journey, Oscar is quiet. A quiet that feels so much more intimate in this small space with the two of you pressed up against each other. Neither of you speaks, you are lost in the moment. It's almost as if the elevator is going too slow, or too fast? You don't want this moment to end.

The bright lights of the elevator and the presence of Oscar sober you up a little bit, just a little bit. You’re hyperaware of the floor numbers changing, getting closer to floor 6, where you and Oscar will have to separate. Oscar's body felt warm against you. You wanted to grab him and hold him close to you, but it would be wrong. You knew that he would most likely pull away from you. 

This has to be goodbye.

“Why didn’t you want me to leave the party?” you ask. Oscar didn't expect that question. You could see it in the way his eyes widened before they narrowed back to the previous stoic state. "I didn't want you to leave because..." He said before pausing. He took a deep breath before continuing. "I wanted you to stay, with me." He said, his voice quiet. You don’t respond. What Oscar says makes your heart jump into your throat. You weren’t supposed to be having these conversations, you certainly weren’t supposed to be having them with Oscar, someone who you can’t stand. Someone who can’t stand you. It’s the alcohol you tell yourself. 

Ding.

You’re on floor 6. 

The elevator doors open, and Oscar doesn't move, instead, he looks at you.

You look back, your mind is racing a mile a minute. He is just staring at you, waiting for you to speak. You felt the heat of his body, the smell of his breath, and the beat of his heart. The air felt so heavy between you both. “You’re supposed to hate me,” you say quietly. Seconds are passing and Oscar is still in the elevator with you. If he doesn’t get out soon the doors are going to shut and you’re both going to keep going up to your floor. Oscar still wasn't getting off, he seemed lost in a trance. It felt like the world had stopped as you looked at him. He didn't respond to your words, his breath was so close to your face.

“Do you hate me?” you say just above a whisper. You are staring at each other now. The elevator doors close and continue up to your floor, and Oscar’s still in here with you. 

"I used to hate you," Oscar said, his voice was soft, and you could hear no anger in his tone. "But..." he paused, and the elevator continued to rise. The both of you were standing inches apart. "But not anymore." He finished. 

You wanted to grab him. Hold his face. Kiss him. Let him do whatever he wanted. No stop. This has to be the alcohol. It has to be. What would everyone say if they found out you were thinking these things about one of your gridmates? Your competition. Your rival. 

What would happen if you just went for it? Just one kiss. You know you’d both regret it, but just one kiss couldn't hurt...could it?

Ding. The doors open. You quickly step back from Oscar, regaining your senses. You exit the elevator and don’t care to check if he’s following you. You hope he’s not. 

You walk to your room, still not looking back at the elevator. You get to the door and fumble for the hotel keycard in your purse. You can feel the heat rising on the back of your neck as you think about what just happened between you and Oscar. Your hands were slightly shaking, your heart was beating wildly and you felt lightheaded. You finally get the door open and quickly shut it behind you. You stand in the entryway for a beat before throwing your purse down, taking your shoes off, and lying down on the bed staring at the ceiling.

Was he going to say anything to you in the morning? Would he act like it never happened? What if we both act like this never happened? Was he going to knock on your door?

You lay there in bed, your mind racing. The alcohol was slowly fading away from your system, but the memories were still clear in your mind. You were still feeling the heat of his body against yours and the smell of his cologne. You were so conflicted, you should be upset and mad. You shouldn't be enjoying the thought of him coming to your door and saying more. That was Oscar, you hated Oscar, you weren't supposed to want him.

You sit up. You need to go to sleep and just clear your head of this. You wash your face and change, all the while thoughts of Oscar run through your mind. You look at yourself in the mirror, is that what Oscar saw when he looked at you?

You crawl into bed, you are still on a high after the party and the adrenaline from Oscar. You close your eyes, trying to distract yourself. But as soon as you closed your eyes, you could only picture him. You could picture his lips when he spoke, his jawline. You could picture the look in his eyes when he looked at you. Your mind was so focused on his body, what it would feel like, what it would taste like to kiss him. Fuck.

-

Your heart stops when you hear a knock at your door. You don't know what time it is or how long you've been lying in bed fighting sleep. 

The knock came again; louder this time. You get out of bed, your heart beating quicker with every step you take. Was it even Oscar out there? You reached the hotel door. Your breath was shaky, it felt like your entire body was trembling. This was it. Now you were truly in this. You put your hand on the handle, the knocking continued again, more persistent this time.

As you threw the door open, you came face to face with Oscar. He was standing there, in the same outfit as he had been at the party. He was staring directly at you, his breath was warm as he exhaled. You could swear he didn't even blink at this moment, his eyes were just glued to yours.

“Yes?” I ask. "Can I come in?" Oscar says, sounding a little bit nervous, and more sober than earlier. You’re at a loss for words. A few hours (?) ago the only words you exchanged were about hating each other [or rather, not hating each other], and now he was asking to come into your room.

Oscar was still holding his gaze, eyes locked straight on yours. You could see it on his face, there was something he wanted from you, something that he hadn't been able to communicate until now. "Please?" Oscar said, his voice was low. You had never in the 8 years you had known Oscar seen him like this. 

“Okay.” You move to the side, motioning him inside your hotel room. Oscar walks in and for a moment, neither of you spoke. There was a certain level of nervousness in the way he was moving. He didn't make any attempt to get close to you initially, it was like he was waiting for your permission. “What do you want Oscar?” I ask folding my arms across my chest. “Please tell me what you’re thinking, I can’t do this guessing game thing anymore.”

Oscar didn't respond right away, he was trying to decide what he should say. You could see as he processed through every thought, looking at you as if he was holding something back. After a few seconds, the words came spewing out, he didn't want to waste any more time.

"I want you to kiss me. I want to kiss you. I want you. That’s what I want." Oscar finally admitted.

Your arms fall to your sides and your heart skips a beat. Oh my god. Oscar stands in front of you and your body is heating up, your brain is getting fuzzy, this time it isn’t the alcohol. “Oscar I-“ you don’t know what to say. 

It was like time had stopped for the both of you. Your breaths were shaky, the silence was deafening. You wanted to wrap yourself around him. It was all just adrenaline now, just one kiss, that's what you wanted. 

You stand looking at each other. You don’t know how long passes. You want him too. You really want him. You need him. But the rational part of your brain is screaming for you to stop. You can’t be with him, as a female F1 driver what would the world say if you got with another driver? What would your reputation be? They would call you a slut. But as Oscar stands in front of you, those thoughts, those warnings are fading away…

He takes a step closer. You don’t move away. He’s close now, too close, but you don’t care. You could feel the heat radiating from his body to yours. There were just inches between you two now. You didn't care about anything else, everything in your body was telling you yes. It was either now or never, your reputation would be the last thing on your mind in this moment.

He brings one of his hands to the side of your face and leans to kiss you. But your lips don’t meet and he hovers just above. Waiting. He wanted something from you, some signal that it was okay to go for it. You could taste his breath as he hovered above you, how many times had you wanted to taste him? You hadn't realized until now how strong this pull between the both of you was. Even if it was just alcohol, it didn't matter, your heart felt as if it would explode with this excitement.

“Oscar” you whisper. You’re looking at his lips, then his eyelashes, his eyes. 

“Just this once.”

The words left your mouth in a hoarse whisper like it felt too surreal to speak out loud. One kiss wouldn't hurt, you could tell him that was the only kiss you were going to let him have. He let out a small breath, and then the gap between your lips disappeared. He brought his face down, his lips touching yours. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close as your lips met his. As Oscar's hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, it was just you and him. Nothing else mattered. Just the heat, the desire and the love that had been building deep inside of both of you.

He breaks the kiss and kisses your collarbone, then up your neck, and then he’s right next to your ear. “Yeah, just this once” he whispers. You let out a shaky breath, his voice sent shivers down your spine. What was happening? Every minute seemed to take so long in the moment. The way Oscar's voice whispered in your ear, it felt like a sweet melody. If this was wrong, you would never know. The only thing you knew for sure right now was how much Oscar wanted you, how much you wanted him.

His mouth was warm, you could feel the moisture of his lips press against yours. You grab the hem of his shirt and he puts his arms up as you pull it off of him. When you drop the shirt aside you can’t help but stare at his body. His chest, his abs, his arms. You had seen him shirtless before, it was inevitable with the years of training you two had done together. But seeing him tonight like this, just the two of you, it was different. 

As you stared at him, he was just staring back, his hair was messy from the way you had pulled his shirt off. It felt like this was the only moment in the world.

His kisses were gentle like he was still trying to get a feel for the moment. You were in each other's grip as if you were locked together. The heat was building up, and you could feel your body burning up. Oscar's hand moved to your top now, pulling it over your head slowly, letting you feel every sensation as it fell to the floor. The way he looked at you as it fell to the ground...it was as if his eyes were going to burn a hole into you.

You’re usually quick with comebacks. Confident. But as you stand in front of him, you’re not insecure, but you have nothing to say. No words to taunt him with, it felt like your usual self was far removed from what was happening right now. 

You had never stood in front of Oscar so vulnerable before, his hands running up your body, his mouth kissing your neck. He was treating you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, the way he looked at you it was like he was seeing you for the first time. Oscar lies you down on the hotel bed. Hovering over you, one of his hands on your hip, the other pressed beside your head, holding him up. One of your hands is resting on your stomach, and you reach the other up and run it through his hair. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m sorry for being so horrible to you. I’ve acted…” you trail off. Why are you saying this? Why right now? It was the alcohol, it had to be. 

As he leaned over you, his breath was warm on your skin as he listened to everything you were saying. Your heart was beating so rapidly, you couldn't stop the words coming out of your mouth, but for once, you felt vulnerable in the right way.

"Don't-" Oscar said, pulling away from you slightly. "You don't need to apologize. We’ve both been… I don’t know…Everything has just been building for years, it got out of control, us. Whatever us was- is. I think I’ve always wanted ‘us’ to be this though."

His words make your head spin. "Us". "Out of control". "Always".

Always makes you laugh though, as you think back to when you first met Oscar.

“You wanted this during our Arden days? At 14?” You know shouldn’t joke right now, but everything is happening so fast, and you grasp for some sort of control over what you're feeling. 

He smiled back at you, he couldn't help smiling. One thing about the way you and Oscar's relationship worked, was it was always full of constant bantering and jabs at each other. It felt right to joke now. 

"I didn't say that," Oscar said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But sure, you were attractive back then, even if you were a brat. Yeah, I did look at you during those days." 

A grin spreads across your face. What would 14-year-old you say if she knew you had Oscar Piastri on top of you in a hotel room after you podium in Monaco? She would be horrified. The realization was almost enough to pull you out of the moment. It truly was insane. The way Oscar was looking down at you, touching your body, it definitely did feel surreal, as if this was a dream.

"You remember those days?" Oscar asked, his voice soft and low as he shifted down to rest on his elbow, bringing his face down closer to yours. “Of course.” You say, looking at his face. He’s so beautiful. “You wouldn’t let me win a goddamn race.”

He let out a laugh, he couldn't help it, the humor of the situation had gotten to him.

"Damn right I didn't... are you still bitter about it?" He said mockingly, he was back to his usual self. “Nope,” you say with a smile, “because who just got second in Monaco? My first time driving that track in Formula One by the way.” Even in this uniquely intimate moment between the two of you, you are bickering. But it’s perfect. 

"Yeah yeah..." Oscar rolled his eyes. "You got lucky that's for sure, this race was a mess." He was back to being himself, the cocky, arrogant version that you were always arguing with. But you felt a different type of chemistry with him right now compared to the racetrack, this time it felt deeper than your usual bickering. You laugh and your hands are on his face again. Now that you have him like this, above you, relaxed, yours; you never want it to end. 

You smile and start tracing the freckles and moles on his face with your finger. Just this once. That was the deal. You want to savor every minute of this moment. A moment that after tonight, can never happen again. 

Oscar's eyes drifted down and he watched as you traced his face. It felt a little too perfect, the way you traced around everything...the way his breath felt on your skin...the way he was looking down at you with intent, his attention was just on you.

"I like this," Oscar finally said and his voice was hushed.

So do I. Is what you want to say. But if those words come out of your mouth everything becomes too real, and you’re not sure if you could ever stop what was already snowballing between the two of you. You simply hum in acknowledgment and continue to trace his freckles down to his arms, down to his wrists. You even traced your fingers along the top of his fingers. 

It was like nothing else existed at this moment, it was just the two of you, your bodies, and the heat. The heat was all that mattered. You wanted to see all of him. Commit. Go all the way. But even now you were mesmerized: his bare chest, back, stomach. You want to run your fingers through him. 

Oscar could feel your breath trailing on his neck, the feeling of your fingers trailing down his body, along his chest, and down his stomach. He felt as if any more of him was exposed to your touch, he would fall apart. He was like a hot glass ready to shatter, a moment away from cracking. He was at a loss, he couldn't even think of the next thing to say. All he knew was that he needed more.

Oscar looked at you, his eyes seemed to be filled with pure desire. He was leaning closer to you now, he was only inches away, his breath was touching your lips. His hand brushed past the clip of your bra, teasing every little part of you. Your back, your arms...he was taking his time with this. “It’s okay, you can…” you trail off. Yet again, you’re too embarrassed to say it. You can take the bra off. You hope he gets the hint. 

The smile on his face was almost cruel as he looked down at you. Was he really going to take this all so slowly and deliberately? He paused for a moment and then he slowly undid one of the clips. He did it so slowly and so precise, he was taking this at such a methodical pace, he wanted you to feel every. single. moment. A part of you wants to complain. How slow he was being. Both of your lives were filled with speed, in the cars, outside the cars. But most of you doesn't really care that he's taking his time. Tonight was the only night you’re allowing yourself to be with Oscar like this, might as well drag it out. 

He did the same thing with the next clip, and then slowly pulled down one of the straps. You did wonder how long he was going to take, it felt like your bra was not supposed to be an obstacle, but Oscar was making it one, on purpose. He had turned even such a simple task into something that felt so intimate.

The moment your bra finally came off a whole new feeling of powerlessness washed over you. You felt even more exposed than before. Your skin felt more sensitive, and everything felt more real. Each movement from him felt like it had double its usual meaning. Your breath caught as he pulled your body closer to him. The pressure of his body against yours was making your head spin. You felt so close to him, the warmth between the two of you was palpable. With each of his kisses, you could feel yourself growing even more desperate for him.

You could feel his finger tracing the outline of your shorts, slowly moving towards the waistband, finger hooking around the elastic. It was happening gradually, so it hit harder when he finally pulled down your shorts. Your underwear was the last barrier, and if it came off, this would officially be something that could never happen again. You were lying under just a layer of clothing. He was staring down at you with his intent gaze. You could feel every move of his, every muscle shifting, his breath hot on your body.

“You too, yeah?” You say with a nervous, breathy laugh. Your hands travel to his pants. And he sits up and leans back a bit, you sit up as well, and start unbuttoning them. It was almost comical, how slow you were both going in this moment. But it was also incredibly intimate. The two of you were both teasing each other in a game of cat and mouse. He was taking it in steps, he wanted to tease, to play, to show you how much he wanted you.

Your hands began unbuttoning his pants, inch by inch, you were both working in unison in the slow teasing. When you finish and start to pull the zipper down, Oscar quickly stands up to take the pants completely off. He wastes no time in getting back on top of you. You smile and hold back a laugh. 

His hands are on either side of your head and he’s looking down at you again, you two start laughing. If it was like this one night, how would it have been with you two together all the time? Would you have always been like this? A playful, teasing relationship, where you both were always just messing around, playing jokes on each other.

The two of you are so close, his boxers and your underwear are the only barrier between you now. You are one step away from the edge, one step away from doing something you can never take back. But you also wanted to take that step. It felt so close to happening. It was like your bodies were talking to one another, they craved to touch, to be pressed against each other. Each breath, each movement it felt as though you wanted to become one with each other.

The way the two of you were looking into each other's eyes, you could tell it was just a moment away. Oscar leaned in close to you, close enough to breathe on your neck, “Are you sure?” He asks. You nod and don’t say anything.

He chuckles as you nod. "You're so sure?" You smile and roll your eyes. He’s such an asshole. “Yes, I’m so sure.” Even with your response dripping in sarcasm, it’s set your feelings in stone. You want Oscar Piastri. 

Was it the alcohol in your system, was it the buildup of years of tension between the two of you, a mixture of both? It didn't matter, the only thing that mattered now was this very moment, this very moment with you and Oscar on this hotel bed. It was like the rest of the world would cease to exist, all that was important at this moment was the heat between the two of you, it filled you with such a warm, almost calming feeling. You both knew that this was it, there was no going back. But just this once you could let it happen. 

-

part II- okay part III- 11:45

[kararomanoff]

once upon a time a daddy just wanted her baby

this was written by a minor, if that makes you uncomfortable just don’t read

You are at an archery competition and stay in a hotel where all the other contestants are also staying. Kate Bishop was always your main competition, she was your enemy , but one night you appears at her room door. (G!P Kate)

warning: g!p Kate, daddy kink, rough sex, degradation, pet names, oral sex (r giving), p in v sex

You had done archery since as long as you could remember, your grandpa had been the first person to teach you always spending time together in your grandparents garden practicing, he was your best friend and when your mom who was his daughter died you and your dad moved in with him.

He had always been there for you even when you came out and your dad had shouted of days until he decided to leave your life over it and yet again grandpa was there, he was now all you have, him and archery.

you first met Kate Bishop when you where eleven, you where at your first serious archery competition sitting on the bench waiting till it was your turn when she came up to you and said ''apparently your who im up against to win, your just a stupid little girl your not going to win'' she was 14 at the time and that's how it's been since ; her thinking very little of you and you wanting to prove how good you are.

now sitting in a hotel room in berlin alone trying to figure out why Kate has only ever been horrible to you for these seven years. You had never known or asked why and it made everything hell, you never started doing archery competitively for the competition you did it for the community and for getting friends that had the same interest as you and all she had done had made it something scary, you didn't want to try prove yourself all the time just for her to never change, she is twenty one now and still acting the same as she did at fourteen, its ridiculous.

you need to speak to her. you need to shout in her face and tell her how she made hell out of you life.

she was some where in this hotel, all the contestants are.

you walk down to the reception desk ''hi, i was just wondering if you could tell me what room Kate Bishop is staying in, i need to speak to her'' you speak to the middle aged woman ''are they expecting you?''

''no'' you feel nervous now, what if you cant speak to her

''one second let me call and check its okay for me to give you her room number'' shit there is no way Kate is going to give it to you.

You wait as anxiously as she phones knowing Kate will give you shit for this when you next see her.

she comes off the phone ''she said yes, its room 1457'' you thank the woman for her help and then make you way to Kates room now having no idea what you are going to say or why she is letting you in her room.

you get the door of room 1457, Kate's room, her room. You knock on the door and wait what feels like forever till the door opens. Kate stands there in a shirt and her boxers, you cant help but stare at the outline of her cock and think about how big she is but you stop yourself.

You look back up, her lips held in a steady smirk ''I need to speak to you'' she nods and moves to the side to let you in. Kate sits down on the bed as if you weren't even there as you a stand as far away as you can.

''why are you here little girl hm? isnt it past your bed time''

''mm yeah it is but- what no Kate im 18 i dont have a bed time'' you lie, you did have a bed time that you had chosen but you couldnt tell her that.

''awww you do have a bed time dumb baby, when is it, 7pm?'' she laughs

you feel small when she treats you like this; which is practically when ever she speaks to you. ''no it at 10:45'' you mutter under your breath

''oh look at that its 10:35 ten minute till bed time and you here, do you need me to read you a bed time story? give you some milk?'' you shake your head feeling powerless against her ''come here'' Kate demands softly but you not move ''I SAID COME HERE!'' you walk over to the bed and stand in front of it ''little girl you cant go to bed in your clothes'' she sounds so evil ''Kate i cant do that'' you speak quietly ''you can and you will or i'll make you'' she threats and so you take your clothes off until your left in your bra and panties.

Kate stands up from the bed and walks behind you till towers over you. She presses her front on your back and you can feel her hard dick against you. ''you cant sleep with a bra on, such a dumb girl'' Kate tuts as she unhooks your bra till it slips off ''be a good girl for once and lie down on the bed for daddy'' you do as you told and lie down.

''now daddys going to tell you a story little girl okay'' she sits down at the desk chair and cups her cock through her boxers

''m'kay''

'' once upon a time a daddy just wanted her baby but her baby was bad and wont spend time with her daddy and that made her daddy very sad'' Kate pulls her boxers down till her dick comes out, she wraps her hand around it and start to move her hand up and down ''all the daddy wanted to do was care and teach and give her little girl super special treats but her baby was dumb and kept running away and then... well...'' she stands up to properly take off her boxers ''daddy had to punish her little girl'' you where in shock but also so very turned on it was embarrassing

''come to daddy baby'' you got up and stood in front of her ''your gonna be a good little obedient thing and suck daddys big special treat to apologise for being such a mean bad dumb little girl, open for daddy'' you open your mouth and she shoves her cock inside, you whine never have having a dick in your mouth, Kate know this, she know you where her good virgin and she know that she was going to take that from you and turn you into her fuck toy.

Kate grabbed you by your hair as she started to thrust into your mouth not caring about your whine and moans or the tears running down your face ''fucking take daddys giant cock take it'' her thrust speed up and her grip on your hair tightens ''fuck such a little whore all for daddy, bet your soaked hm? bet your pussy trying to grip onto nothing cause you want daddy in you so much''

''daddys gonna cum and you are gonna swallow every. last. fucking. drop'' and as she says that she cums send it all the way down your throat.

a minute later she pulls her dick out of your mouth, a string of her cum and your saliva going from your mouth to your her pretty pink tip '' take your pantie off and then get on the bed on all fours'' she commands and yet again you do as your told still wanting to prove how good you are.

''look at you doing what i tell you too, did daddy fuck some sense into you little one?'' you tried to reply but anything you tried to say was incoherent.

''this is gonna hurt at first but then it'll really really good, daddy promises'' Kate rasps as she starts to push her length

''mhmm daddy i-'' you moan

''i know slut daddy feels so good'' she then fills you with the entirety of her cock

''so fucking tight for daddy'' she starts to move pretty fast for at first but shes been waiting years for this. You had never given her a break, always being a good innocent girl with the bonus of daddy issues. Kate had lost count of the amount of times she jerked of thinking of her pretty baby, you've always been her pretty baby you just hadn't known. She was going to make you her dumb baby and you weren't going to say no.

you where close already, Kate could feel it; she could feel you squeezing her tight. ''so wet, is this all for daddy little girl?''

''yes daddy, yes all for you'' you where mindless at this point.

''you mine, mine only'' she husk possessively

''only daddys''

''fuck thats right whore'' Kate moans

''daddy i- i feel weird'' you cry out not really understanding the way your body feels.

''let it go baby, cum for daddy'' and then you came feeling so free and overwhelmed and floaty, suddenly thought you feel to much, over stimulated as she continues to thrust into you even faster than before.

'' 's to much daddy'' but she doesn't stop

''but daddy need to cum stupid baby''

'' 'm okay'' you tiredly reply

''fuck daddys gonna cum'' Kate paints your walls white as you whine.

Kate pulls out of you as you blink trying to keep your eyes open ''you did so good for daddy, everythings gonna be okay now i can look after you. sleep little one''

[sakumz]

____________________________________________

「 yanagi x fem reader 」

a/n : I wanna rant lol

____________________________________________

" please be the romeo, yanagi. shu sustained an injury the other day so he's the narrator with me. we need you! " ishikawa clasps his hands together as yanagi smiles and agrees.

you, juliet is feeling nervous as the clock ticks. any minute now and it's showtime! where's your romeo? is he ready? all this thoughts running in your head that you fail to notice yanagi standing behind you. you let out an internal scream when you saw him, standing behind you. he just wants to wish you goodluck.

" h-have you memorised your parts, yanagin? " you ask but before he could reply, you heard the narrators, shu and ishikawa call out your name. that's your que to stand on stage and act your role.

" oh... why do our families fight with such hatred? I'm sure that if given the chance, they'd join hands and work together just like we have. if they could just understand half of how I feel about you, romeo... I'm sure- "

" AH-CHOO! "

" what was that noise? " ishikawa whispers to shu as the mics picks it up, making the audience laugh.

" what's this, a horror show? " someone from the seats say.

" that was pretty loud, " another say.

" man! was you, miyamura?! " shu shouts, making him peek from the curtains to shake his head, no.

" how embarrassing, " you whisper.

" crap, I forgot my lines. hey.. um what's next? " hearing you said that, made the audience burst into laughters.

" guess it wasn't horror but comedy? " someone say.

" hey juliet, that was an important line! " yanagi finally, steps onto stage.

" I can't help it, you sneezed and everything disappeared from my head! " you scolded him.

hearing your words, the audience laughed a little too hard for comfort.

" hey! they like it, next scene you two! " shu encourages.

onto the next scene, you're standing on what's supposed to be the balcony. yanagi standing somewhere below and next to him is the servant, miyamura dressed in a wig and maiden clothes.

" the capulets want your life, " miyamura says.

" no matter how dangerous it is, I need to go to her, " yanagi replies. " she's waiting at that balcony! "

" don't stop romeo, but this is when this servant shows her determination! " ishikawa announced.

" the truth is, she's in love with romeo! when she thinks this is their farewell, she gets ready to tell him how she feels, " shu follows.

" I don't remember this, being in the script? " miyamura whispers as yanagi sighs.

" well, just say whatever comes to your mind. I'm sure hori-san will deal with the two later, " yanagi comforts miyamura with a pat to his shoulder.

" um... romeo-sama, I've always loved you... crap, hori-san! I love you most! I cant do this anymore, " he runs away from the stage.

the audience burst into laughter once more. suddenly, a random hooded lady appeared on stage.

" oh a mysterious woman appears! " shu says.

" just who is she? " ishikawa respond.

" um, I am Josephine! romeo's true love! " remi says as she pulls down her hood. the crowd gasps and whispers, was romeo a player?

" this... you can't be my lover, you're my sister! " yanagi quickly thinks of a line.

" that doesn't matter if we're in love, " she replies.

" our family will be in bloodbath if they knew. besides, I'm sure the president loves you more than I do! go back to him. " yanagi fake cries, making the audience sympathise with him.

" he loves juliet! " the crowd cheers.

" I- you're right, onii-sama. " she runs off stage.

" you think, I'll let you have juliet that easy? I'm her older brother, Friedrich! " hori appears and charged him with her sword. he quickly ducks and run forward towards you.

" when I asked about you, you're a despicable man who cheats and make women cry, " hori says.

" you misunderstood the situation and exaggerated it! " yanagi replies.

" you want my juliet? fight me! " she charges at him as he runs around the stage.

" m-miyamura! take her, please! "

" even he can't save you! "

yanagi finally runs down the stage as she runs after him. yoshikawa and hori's father was next to them when yanagi ran up the audience.

" please catch her! " he begs as yoshikawa grabs her by the arm and her father takes the other arm.

" kyouko, why do you have to bully poor romeo? " kyousuke says out loud, making the audience around him laugh as hori freezes.

" now that they've finally caught juliets brother, what's next to come? " shu says.

" i-im coming, juliet! " yanagi shouts as he bolts towards you, climb the ladder to grab your hands at the balcony.

" o romeo, romeo! wherefore art thou, romeo? deny thy father and refuse thy name ; or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a capulet. " you read your lines.

" then I'll take you. in exchange, please call me your lover. if you do, I will no longer be romeo. my beloved juliet. " he says.

" okay... I love you, romeo. " you finish as you two hold hands and the crowd cheers.

the casts bow and thank the watchers as everyone slowly leave the place, you and yanagi walked side by side off stage. fellow classmates were congratulating you two for the heart felt work.

" ahem, juliet could you come with me? " yanagi says as he offers his hand out. you two haven't changed out of your outfits.

you take his hand as he leads you away from the stage area, he walks you to the quiet council room as you two enters he closes the door and take a seat on one of the chairs. you take a seat across from him.

" well? " you question as he swallow sharply.

" y/n l/n... would you take my hand and be the juliet to my romeo? " he asks, looking at your face as you blush slightly from his words.

" oh romeo... are you asking me to be your lover? if so then yes I'll be your juilet. " you smile as he leans in to kiss your cheek, making you both blush.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ inspired by nisekoi lol

[thatdeadaquarius]

I have so many ideas but none of them can be put into words, all I can do is just wheeze as they come along🤣

Also remember how wordy and flowery Teyvat speech/dialogue is? ADD THAT TO THE FACT THAT TEYVAT HAS ITS OWN LANGUAGE---

Reader can understand the basic speech which is why they are so blunt (I love this idea so much 🤣) and can piece together an idea what the person is talking about.

*insert random person talking about a commission with a long ass backstory*

Traveller & Co.: *understands completely and making plans to retrieve said commission*

C!Reader: (They said they had a cart.... a bunch of hilichurls appeared... dancing?.... they want us to dance fight the hilichurls???? Dance off???)

Actual story->The person's cart got ambushed by a group of hilichurls and taunted them by dancing around it.

....... it doesnt always translate well

Also imagine Reader heaeing random names and overthinks it as a word instead of a name.

Example: Pantalone means pants in Philippine English (sorry not sorry Pantalone)

Tsaritsa??? Oh do they speak russian there??? - reader

Capitano -> captain in some countries

(I once mistake Sandrone as Sandalone and I just went "... ehh??? Standalone? Sandalone as in Sand Alone???? Sandal (Flip flops)????

Oh wait its Sandrone" ".... as in Sand and Drone??--)

-Vine Boom

VINE BOOM ANON MY BELOVED 💖❤🧡💛💚💙💜✨️✨️

Gif is me writing u anything ever:

AHFLALA FERRRALLL I STG I ALSO THOUGHT ABT THIS!! WHY U COULD ALSO BE BLUNT BC U ONLY GOT THE BASICS 💀 RIP

Man theyre written language looks so scary to learn, kinda like when I looked into trying to learn Mandarin/Japanese (and even Korean), the letters r just inherently so different i was so intimidated

And u dont even read it like left -> right like English

Omg i tried to reply to a arabic comment on my art post once, and i felt so acommplished when i finally was able to type "اشكرك (thanks)" but like, i had to put it on the OTHER SIDE OF THE TEXT BOX, LIKE ALIGN IT TO THE RIGHT INSTEAD OF HOW U KNOW ENGLISH IS INHERENTLY ALIGNED LEFT, IT WAS SO TRIPPY-

Going thru genshin life only understanding minimal words of anything anyone says is honestly how i feel like ive been playing Genshin LMAO

Those analysis videos/lore are saving a bitch's life out here

PANTALONE IS ALSO RLLY CLOSE TO SPANISH FOR PANTS I KNOW WHAT U MEANNN LOL

UR ENDLESS CONFUSION FOR SANDRONE PLEASE ANON U DIDNT EVEN GET IT RIGHT THE FIRST CORRECTION IT JUST KEPT GETTING WORSEEE 😂😭 SAME THO

That would literally be you in genshin tho, like i could easily see it being like, back to back misunderstandings 😭😭

Like u think u got it right (Oh so his name is Rex Lapis, wait what? Morax? Ok his name is Morax...?? What??? Zhongli??? WHO IS THIS MAN-)

.

JFC first they gotta have a whole different language (like u saw in game)

And ON TOP OF THAT THEY CAN TALK FOR 10 MIN STRAIGHT ABT THE WEATHER OR SOME SHIT??

No... just, no.

U quickly decide u like what little bits of language u could pick up so far, which just results in,

U guessed it, simple speech and short fragmented sentences (or broken Teyvatian)

U cant even bring urself to care when u give half the characters a heart attack and send the rest into laughing fits

No fucks given, they wanna make this extra hard on u by being wordy on top of a new language,

Yeah u dont care what comes out of ur mouth anymore

Also, since everybody is raised in Teyvat very few ppl dont know the language, which once again brings us back to ancient/older deities/creatures who have a more simplistic version/outdated version of modern language

.

Omg getting stuff mistranslated bc u cant understand it all/only keywords sounds like hell but also rlly funny

Traveler/Paimon: "Alright, yes, all is well. We will accept this comission, and depart soon."

You: "...they want us to?? Dance fight?? Hilichurls...???"

Traveler just stares at u half in pity, half trying to hide their amused smile, Paimon is giggling

The commissioner is shook bc a supposed ancient creature?? Just accepted?? Their simple commission?? And u think they want u to dance battle???

.

PLEASE U MISTRANSLATE THE HARBINGERS NAMES RIGHT TO THEIR FACES

Signora: "You shall rue the day you crossed the Fatui mortals!"

You: "Lady we don't care, just fight us."

(Signora just means 'Lady')

Signora: *offended gasp*

Traveler/Paimon trying to stifle laughter

Raiden Shogun jaw dropped a little

.

Pantalone: "What a pleasure to finally meet you traveler, and thine wonderful companions!" *little bastard smile*

You: "And it was awful to meet you, Pants."

Pantalone: 😶😧😡 "Pants?! HOW DARE YOU NOT EVEN GIVE ME THE MOST BASE RESPECT, AFTER I GREETED THEE SO KINDLY-"

.

Oh its so funny, everytime you talk about Childe you always phrase it like he's an actual child bc u thought everyone was just calling him a little kid for some reason (u dont know how Teyvat ages work, he could be for all you know!)

Not very long, but Vine Boom anon your brain >>>>

Ur ideas r so on point, i love them sm

That makes perfect sense why u could be talking blunt too, like an in world explanation really

For you, all the desserts🥰 🤲🍪🍨🍰🍮🧋🍦🍡

Cheers,

🌒🌊🌧Aquarius♒️🌌🌘

[flower-seeks-the-moon]

Summary:

The truth that no one will ever, ever unearth from his tightly clenched fingers - the beating heart that's never been conquered, even if the rest of him is to be shared - is that Baxter Alexander Ward fucking loathes his wings.

Length: 5059 words

Fandom: Our Life: Beginnings & Always

Characters: Baxter Ward, Main Character

Relationships: Baxter Ward/Main Character

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Alternate Universe - Wings

Written for @ficwip5k 2024.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

Baxter's wingcare routine takes up a chunk of his day; from the outside looking in, however, it doesn't seem that way.

He tells himself that the unveiled looks of awe and desire are worth it, that the pride on Adrian and Amelia Ward's faces when their friends offer doting words of praise are a justification for the long and tedious routine of carefully preening, brushing, and oiling each feather upon the six dusty grey wings that bloom from his back. The smile he wears, when a classmate in school comes up and stammers requests for a glance of his their way, and more than mere minutes brushing of shoulders, is that of someone who's used to people's eyes first being drawn to the feathered appendages, then to the sparkling pristine image of a Ward; last, if it ever comes to that, to the young man who lets himself be touched with covetous hands, his body a feast for people's eyes and mouths and fingers, like a bird plucked and then shared among the famished until there's little else but bones.

The truth that no one will ever, ever unearth from his tightly clenched fingers - the beating heart that's never been conquered, even if the rest of him is to be shared - is that Baxter Alexander Ward fucking loathes his wings.

"How do you keep these beauties looking immaculate?" A hand buries itself into the middle wing on his left side, fingers dragging through the feathers. 

Baxter's jaw flexes within a hair's breadth of a frown before it smooths into a smile as he cants a look upwards through veiled lashes. "It's no large undertaking. I've made some rather excellent purchases as of late that have made it all a breeze." A tilt of the head, an empty offer tumbling from his lips that expects no acceptance. "Would you like to see how I care for them? Perhaps," here, his voice drops into a coax, though he dares not hope for more. "You would like to try it on me?"

"I might," the person in his bed laughs. "If you'd also do me the favor?"

He sees them off with a gentle swipe of his uppermost wing against theirs - a sparrow's wings, he knows he'll remember them by this and not the name which will eventually slip from memory - drawing them close one last time with a wistful peck on their mouth. They bow over him and press back, smiling as their feathers rustle against each other; one side enthusiastic to the point of ruffling the other. The sound makes Baxter's stomach twist, and he pulls away to let them step back onto their doorstep.

"You're seriously something else, Baxter Ward." They shake their head in amusement, eyes roaming up and down the length of his body again. "I've got a newfound respect for how much of a pain those things are. Seriously." An awkward pause. "My bad, for the-"

The spot on his lower right wing twinges, the scapular feather that had been wrenched and bent out of shape by an impatient hand. "It's no big deal. Nothing of import, and something that can be easily fixed." 

They look at him oddly. He imagines that the concern in their eyes is his own wishful thinking. Though if it was real, it doesn't last, and soon his friend shrugs. "If you say so. Anyway, Jules's got something cooking this Saturday. See you around, then?"

"Yes, I'd love to." He knows that they won't. The campus is big enough to hold both of them and keep out of each other's orbits.

In the evening, Baxter Ward plucks the errant feather without even flinching and throws it in the bin. It irritates him to look at it, and even then, it'll grow back in time.

His hand snaps out and wraps around her wrist before she can pinch at the tip of her wing and pull. 

"Don't do that." He realizes that his voice is more forceful than usual when her eyebrows pinch together, a startled look on her face.

"Come with me, if I may be so forward." He slips his hand down and twines it with hers, nudging a clenched fist open to make room for his digits. She latches on more gently than he expects out of her. Baxter exhales, casting a look at the way the wings at her hips flex and loosen in an attempt to ease off the restlessness. It's been thrumming through her the moment he opened the door and found her looking so lost, a disquiet that speaks louder to him than she likely wants it to; he doesn't fancy himself an adept coastal dweller who can tell when a storm is coming through the movements of the waves and the specific shades of the sky, but he imagines it like this - one look into Wisteria Blanc's clouded grey eyes, not a glimpse of the sun behind them, and he finds himself just as unsettled.

"It's not a big issue," Wisteria refutes, yet she's allowing herself to be led inside. "And it'll grow back. I was rather careless earlier. Normally, I'm not..."

He allows himself a silent raise of the brow, lip twitching at the near-petulance she trails off with. With a firm push, he settles her down on the couch, shooting her a look as he pats one of the throw pillows down on her lap. "Let me hazard a guess: you'd rather not have Pamela or Noelani noticing?"

She bristles, feathers on either side of her head ruffling in time with the shake of her head. "... Wouldn't be good if they did. Cove would also feel bad, and I'd rather not see that."

Baxter promises to himself that he would get to the root of what this thing is, for it to make a trenchant eighteen-year old mumble and avoid his eyes. What is he to do when he finds out, he doesn't yet know, but there must be something. He lets go of her hand, keeping all his focus on her as he sits down. 

It's experience that makes him keep a respectful distance, after he's interfered with her earlier. 

Wisteria's right wing curls around her; the little bent feather at its very tip flutters with the motion. He makes sure not to comment on it, sensitive to every little motion and the jitters that follow them. After a long moment, she sinks her hands into the pillow, eyes intent on the patternless maroon fabric. "I saw one of my old classmates at work today. We weren't close, but... He was very tactile with everyone in class- And I tolerated it, to an extent."

It's a picture that paints itself, even with the incomplete details that she provides him. He takes a moment to let it sink in, watching her mangle the pillowcase between her fingers, before standing up. His own wings are just as stiff as hers, mirroring her. "I shall be back shortly, we must soak that part in a basin." Is there a shallow enough washbasin around his rental condo? Baxter quietly curses at himself. Of course, his habit of hardly staying inside long enough to know his way around this temporary summer residence - which feels less and less like a prison around her - would come back around to haunt him now of all times. 

Casting a warning look at Wisteria when he spies her hand slipping down to her wing, he leaves her in the living room. 

When he reemerges from his hunt around the condo, he clutches the plastic washbasin in his hand. Precariously balanced on top of them are the products he uses for himself, ones that take Wisteria out of her stupor long enough for her to blink at him in incredulity. He sets it all down on the coffee table, all except for the washbasin, and hurries to the open kitchen. 

The sound of water from the faucet, filling up the basin, is the only thing in the room until she speaks. "... What are these for?" 

"You will see soon," Baxter replies, shutting off the faucet and turning around. 

She's inspecting one of the bottles, holding it up to her face with an upwards tilt to the corner of her mouth. "Guerlain? Abeille Royal Revitalizing & Fortifying Care Feather Conditioner?"

The tight ball in his chest loosens. "I believe the results of my usage must speak for themselves." With a raised brow, he arches his six wings a little higher, a little wider, as much as he could indoors. Flaunting them, dancing around the edge of presenting. His face brightens when hers spread out on either side of her; tentative, and not as forward as she would on another day. 

Baxter has to remind himself that this is the same girl who flared out her wings, a warning in the way she stepped in front of Cove, on his very first day at Sunset Bird.

Wisteria Blanc's wings are ghosts that have haunted his memories ever since that strange little Summer Soiree at a country club. He doesn't think of them on the regular, but every so often he remembers the girl with plumage that looked like white paper halfway dipped in ink. The topmost part of the backs of her wings were a gradient that began from feathers as black as a starless night sky, lightening to varying shades of grey until one's eyes were near-blinded by the immaculate white of the remiges. It was a mirror to the unusual shade of her hair, an inkwash painting given life in silken strands that fell to her back and argent eyes that looked at him with undisguised curiosity.

What stuck out the most to Baxter Ward, fourteen years of age and already loathing the dismal dusty grey of his own plumage, was the tiny pair of wings on either side of her head, like a crown of laurels. 

He had been very young when he had learned that one's wings standing out was not always a good thing. 

A lot of societies since the dawn of the age of man have waxed poetic and built religions out of the appendages that every human was born into this world with. Some claimed it to be a leftover of the age of the divine, when gods and monsters walked the earth and brushed shoulders with mortals. Others claimed it to be proof of the existence of the soul, a physical manifestation of your inner self - an indicator of what kind of person you would grow up to be, the mark you would leave the world with. Yet even other schools of thought out there simply believed that it was a vestigial organ linking man to an older species that had once dominated the skies. Now, flight is more often than not impossible, since the structure of most wings don't make it feasible for them to carry their human bearers. A growing sentiment in the 21st century is that wings are useless limbs on humans, and the option of having them amputated is quickly growing popular. 

But most people are attached to a feature that they had been born with, even as they grow to bear complex feelings about their wings and the way the world would grow to judge you for how you carry them.

Baxter had known that his wings couldn't be an extension of his soul. They didn't reflect who he was at all, not when it took all that grooming and preening to look halfway presentable for his parents. If souls could be tampered with so easily to look as clean as a polished mirror, then perhaps humans are better off not trusting each other at all. Mirrors are dishonest things, the way they prey upon the weaknesses in your heart and morph your countenances into something you loathe once the negative feelings get their claws in.

He had wondered. What did that girl see in the mirror, with her four oddly-placed wings? It is a question that follows at the heels of fond remembrance; her blush stains that black-and-white memory, a shade of red that sometimes takes the edge off of the self-loathing that he feels when he grooms himself.

"You're very considerate," she had told him, back then, as they danced to the steps of a waltz. His wings were tucked in close to his back, painfully aware of the eyes on him. Adolescence had been an awkward, dreadful time with his lengthening limbs and wings, and how he had to make himself smaller, so as to not bump into others. "No need to keep them folded close; I want you to enjoy yourself as much as I am. The dance floor has plenty of room, and you don't need to constrain yourself for others' convenience."

A beat later, she had followed up with that blunt comment about his smile being cuter when it's genuine, and the Summer Soiree girl had found a place for herself in his heart. Autumn and his pretty golden wings, already a lingering ache that was slowly being buried with time, are swept aside by a lone encounter. One dreamlike midsummer evening that could only be topped by the summer of five years later.

His plans for this evening are cast aside; what’s one night spent aimlessly driving, seeking out the next empty attraction to whittle away his time in Sunset Bird, to caring for her? Sitting in his living room, kneeling down at the side of the touch, he keeps his palms spread open. Hovers them by her wing, eyeing her as he poses the question.

“May I touch your wing, Wisteria?” Her expression is at once hard to read and achingly familiar as he continues, “I would like to help you with your wing, if you would allow it.”

With his past flings, he’d readied himself to be rejected with his offers of them caring for his wings, after he’s finished with theirs. Yet he finds himself more mindful of her rejection, while at the same time fully understanding if she is to do it to him.

“We’ve already touched each other’s wings,” she prods, tentatively lowering her eyes to her hands. “I didn’t mind it during our hangout with the others.” 

Baxter remembers fully well what she means. There’s precious few memories that could make him feel like he could fly, wings as useless as they are. He still wonders what possessed him to have such courage at the time: to draw his shirt around her shoulders, enclosing her in three pairs of wings to ward off the cold, right until her friends jeered at them. The moment is as ingrained in him as the taste of the chocolate from her popsicle, when he bent down to try it. It’s the same taste lingering on her lips when he kisses her under the glow of the fireworks, their feathers pressed close to each other as she leans back against him.

“That was then, and this is now,” he smiles at her. “As elated as I am that you’re trying to tell me that I am implicitly allowed to touch you, I would still like to hear a confirmation from you this evening. Indulge me, if you will.” 

She regards him; he wonders what she sees in his face, to bring such a look of relief to her eyes. A gentle smile curves her mouth. “... right.” She takes a breath, and straightens her spine. “I’d like it if you help me, Baxter. Please, go ahead.”

It is a familiar routine to him, the act of soaking a bent feather to soften it up. “Your feather will straighten out,” he keeps speaking in low tones, taking glances at Wisteria. She’s relaxed in just the exact way to let him know that she’s not relaxed, hands lightly clasped atop the throw pillow she’s been clutching since he handed it to her earlier. If she’s mangling it like earlier, it’d probably be more reassuring.

He lips thin, pressing together as he turns his focus back to the ruffled feathers. “If I may ask. Is this your first time?”

“My first time having someone else care for them?” She shakes her head. “I groom my wings together with my family, once a month.” 

Baxter hasn’t ever seen his parents tend to each other. They had people they paid to do that for them, so what was the point? It had also been the way with him, growing up as a young boy, until he had one day visited the Murrays with Qiu, seen Mrs. Murray’s gentle hands preening her kid’s feathers. Of course, his friend had blushed so furiously when they both noticed that Autumn and Baxter had arrived early. 

It hadn’t seemed like a thing to be flustered about. Being preened by someone else looked warm and comforting, like a blanket around his shoulders as he sat in front of the fireplace in his big house, a cup of tea heating his palms.

He shakes his head. “Ah, I meant something else. Was earlier your first time,” he murmurs, hands drifting up to groom her feathers as the tip of her wing is left to soak in the basin. “Having your wing grabbed without your permission?”

She stiffens, the topic they had been dancing around brought to the spotlight. He briefly regrets bringing it up, before he remembers that she came to him of all people. Walked up to his doorstep, to her temporary neighbor, when she could have sought refuge at Cove’s, or even Terri and Miranda’s places. There are a good number of others that would have taken care of her, but she had come to him instead. It’s a callback to that day on the yacht, the way she had looked green around the gills and still refused her sister’s concern, only to allow him down in the cabin with her.

“No,” she sighs out. “It’s not.” 

Her wings are healthy, and carefully tended; a life being well-loved writ in glossy flight feathers and soft underwings. He’s seen her and Cove sometimes straighten each other’s feathers out in casual motions, barely taking a thought to do it for each other, and felt an odd twist in his gut. It’s not quite grooming each other, but Baxter could never have afforded to be so casual with someone else in such a way. Not after he had long left Golden Grove and the days of his boyhood behind.

“I find myself sincerely hoping that your manager had words with your old classmate.” He pauses for a moment when she squirms against his hand, realizing that her scapula feathers are ticklish. “If they were a customer.”

“You don’t have to keep hoping about that,” Wisteria’s reply comes out dry. “Yes, he kinda got kicked out of the restaurant and blacklisted. My manager is at least good about that, or maybe she didn’t want me to end up punching a customer on the job.”

This breaks a laugh loose from him. “Would it be too remiss of me to say that I would have loved to see that?”

“What, me getting fired?” There’s mirth dancing in her eyes. “Or punching someone?”

“Speaking any further would incriminate myself,” Baxter says, primly stepping away from answering that . He gives her a soft grin. “Thank you for coming to me this evening.” For ending up on his doorstep, just in time for him to stop her from plucking at her feather when she deserves a place to feel safe. For asking for him on the yacht when Liz, Lee, and Cove would have gladly gone. For making his evenings feel much less empty, even when she bumbles about it.

Later, she ends up half-asleep on his couch when he’s finished grooming her wings; having deemed it a long enough soak to soften her flight feather, he straightens it and feels a deep sense of satisfaction.

After the ice cream truck, the sun shower might be one of the quintessential summer experiences that could get him near-giddy.

Running through the sprinklers in a suburban neighborhood is one thing. Rain drizzling down like a lingering remnant of the clouds that have drifted far away, splashing the unsuspecting, reminds him of the weather in Golden Grove. It often rained in Golden Grove, particularly as autumn drew close; it was a much different experience, with cloudy grey skies offsetting the deep reds, golds, and browns of the trees far below, the rain like tears that tried to cleanse the deep ache that had made its home in his heart and brought him to flee the nest.

It reminds him of Golden Grove, and yet it is everything that a rainy day in his old hometown is not.

The sunlight is still out in full force. Rain droplets, caught in the sunbeams, lit up and glinted gold as they fell and cascaded down Wisteria’s face. It is the sight of them that snaps him out of his stunned delight, long enough to remember-

He brings her in close with one arm, shutting the car door she had just come out of with his other hand. Chiding himself for having no umbrella on hand, he brings his wings up above the both of them to shelter her from the unexpected drizzle.

The sunshower continues for a few minutes more; he wonders if Wisteria can feel his heart pound against his ribcage, her face tucked against his neck. He is at once both peaceful and unmoored, in awe of how the rain can feel so gentle. They stand there, Baxter unbothered by his feathers becoming damp, the droplets seeping through the topside to run in unseen rivulets down his plumage. 

For once, his seraph wings feel useful. 

When the rain ebbs, he lowers his wings with a sigh. A part of him feels almost wistful; it’s another moment that passed him by so quickly, one that he will look back on from time to time.

She is suspiciously still, wrapped up in his arm, up until she pulls away. “You didn’t have to do that,” Wisteria squints at him. “Your wings are all wet.”

Baxter grins at her, broad and unabashed. The tips of her ears are very red. “I would rather not see you beset with another cold, and right after our date. My wings will simply dry off.” 

Wisteria’s look is supremely unimpressed. She ruffles her wings, the ones on either side of her head flattening against her hair, and reaches out to take his arm. “Come on. We’ll dry off together inside my house.”

She brings him past the Blanc home’s threshold, pausing when they’re both inside. 

Elizabeth has once again made herself at home on the living room couch, hunched before her laptop with a frown to rival the size of Pamela’s Cheshire cat grins she sometimes sends her beleaguered daughters. Her wings, in fiery hues of deep orange and pale gold, flex about in annoyance behind her. He suspects that her summer courses are going on rather challengingly, and he and Wisteria both pause when brown eyes flicker to their entrance and narrow.

“That drizzle just now got you two, huh?” She eyes Baxter’s wings. He tenses, ready to be turned out the door for dripping all over the floor. Instead, all the elder Blanc sister says is, “Why is he soaked?”

Ria shrugs. “He thought that I needed an umbrella. And then decided his wings would work out.”

The frown that had seemed near-permanent for this afternoon melts from Liz’s face. “Huh.” She regards Baxter with an odd little half-smile, an impish tilt to her eyes and lips that has her little sister immediately on guard around her. “Well, hurry to the bathroom and help the poor guy, won’t you?”

Before Liz can say anything more, Wisteria shoots her a flinty look and tugs Baxter after her. They go to the bathroom on the second floor, and she gives him a little push on his back when he hesitates at the doorway. “Come on.”

The drying fans whirr to life, pelting them on either side with warm breezes that penetrate through the top layers of their feathers. He sighs as the temporary chill - brought on by stepping inside an airconditioned home with his feathers soaked through - melts away with the heated blasts of air. 

“I forgot to say this earlier,” Wisteria begins, prompting him to turn towards her. “But thanks for that.” She steps up, close and personal, towards him. “I would like to do something for you, in turn.”

His smile grows mischievous, from languid to heated at the drop of a hat. “I would adore anything from you, Ria, but you needn’t insist on a repayment.” He pauses, letting his gaze point to the closed bathroom door meaningfully. “I believe that a bathroom at your home wouldn’t be the most appropriate, though, would it?” His tone is idle musing and faux demureness. 

Cocking her head, Wisteria frowns. Her tone carries a distinct note of confusion. “I was about to ask you if I could groom your feathers after they’ve dried off.”

“What.” 

He… He didn’t mishear her, did he?

She grins at him, sharp and pointed. “You didn’t think I’d let you take care of me without doing the same for you in turn, did you, Baxter?”

He’s discombobulated, more than just a little stunned, and despite it all, so damn comfortable. Lying on his stomach atop her bed, he represses a shudder when lithe fingers smooth the downy insides of his wings, preening and tugging at long flight feathers.

“I’m sorry we don’t have the-” Wisteria pauses. “Guerlain products you use, but my Ma has something similar that she mixes herself.” She tilts her head. “I don’t really need additional oiling for mine, but Mom needs additional care for hers since she doesn’t produce as much oil naturally, and that’s why Ma picked the practice up. I suspected that it might be a similar case for you, considering the volume of six wings.”

An involuntary giggle escapes him when she pulls away from his flight feathers to run her fingers through the tiny feathers along his spine. He’s ticklish there, and he didn’t even realize until someone touched him gently enough to make the reflex kick in.

Baxter bites his lip afterwards, his face burning red.

There’s a pregnant pause, and then the fingers return to dancing atop the feathers up and down his spine. With a vengeance, and the deftness of an experienced piano player.

He tenses, doesn’t try to hold back that hard, and laughs; he fears that Elizabeth downstairs would hear the snorts and giggles that Wisteria evilly pries from him with her quick hand. 

Once the impromptu tickle attack has ceased, and Ria has taken pity on him, Baxter huffs and glares at her headboard. “You devious little - I swear, one day I will yet have my turn.” He sends her a look over his shoulder, promising playful vengeance.

“You relaxed.” Wisteria hums, turning her attention back to his upper right wing. He tries to ignore the ache in his chest. “I’m glad.”

His throat tightens, and he rests his head against her pillow. It’s fragrant with the scent of her shampoo, sweet and entirely her. “Tending my wings will be quite the hassle, I did not wish to impose it upon you.”

“... Baxter, I help three other ladies in this house with their wings every month. Well, two, since my sister is away at college more often than not.” Wisteria’s gaze burns into the back of his head. Her voice is quiet, laden with a meaning that he’s not yet ready to comprehend. “It’s really not a problem for me.”

There’s a lull in conversation afterwards, and he finds himself near to dozing off, eyes slipping shut more than once. She takes her own pace, moving like she has all the time in the world to focus on each and every feather. It makes thinking - more importantly, dreading - so much more laborious when there’s a gentle hand in his middle left wing, treating it like it’s a cherished part of him.

Wisteria speaks, voice barely above a hushed whisper. 

“In the one moment I got to take a good look at you before you hid me from the rain, Baxter Alexander Ward, I thought I was looking at an angel.”

In the hazy in-between limbo straddling consciousness and dreams, the part of him that listens recognizes the feelings that linger behind her words. He keeps his silence, letting her go on to think that such an admission went unheard.

“I think I’d prefer you over the popular interpretations of angels… You’re wonderful. You contradict yourself so often that I’m often confused. And you’re infuriating sometimes, and I can’t stop looking away from you. I don’t think real angels could ever be like that. So please, just remain as you are without trying to live up to them, or anything else.”

It’s not the first time someone has called him an angel. Rather, it’s an on-the-nose nickname from past flames, considering the three pairs of wings that he carries.

But it is the first time that someone has breathed it into the silence like it’s a secret, not meant for him to hear. Not meant to flatter him. 

Why, then, are they worth millions more than the praises so easily bestowed upon him?

It’s evening when he wakes up, just in time for a dinner at the Blanc household. There’s a sharp tease at the ready for him and Wisteria when they come to the table, courtesy of Elizabeth.

As Wisteria passes him a dish of mung beans, his hand brushing against hers, he swears to carry her words and their glow with him for as long as he could.

They say that humans have long become incapable of flight, their wings not physically capable, their wings a vestigial trait left over after millennia of evolution. To fly is a pipe dream, and humans can only look to the heavens with coveting eyes or resort to contraptions of steel and technology to mimic what they once took for granted.

But he thinks they found the feeling of flying attainable in other things, in the words one can say when they think the other is asleep.

fin.

[blingblong55]

Always you- 141+König

This is based on a request:

GN!Reader, cheating, angst? (idk anymore)

How 141+König react to them cheating on reader.

Backstory to make us both cry:

The love of his life, the one who waited for him. It was just you and him. It wasn't a perfect life, that is true and he promised you it wouldn't be. "I Can't promise picket fences or walks around town on sunny afternoons." he said, sitting across from you. "I know, no one can, but I know what I feel for you and it's not something I can have with anyone else, I'm not willing to leave just because you cant promise that. I don't want to be with no-one else but you." your hands delicately caressing his face. And it was true, the relationship wasn't perfect, nothing was, but he made things feel like heaven. The way he held you close when either of you had a bad day, the way his presence was comforting enough.

You knew you'd never love a man like how you love him. How his nose scrunches when he dislikes something, how he smiles when you kiss him. It's too unreal. And you, gosh, you were the reason why he fought so hard to always come back home. Home...yeah home, he whispered to himself. The way he felt so vulnerable around you, how he felt safe. He loved how you would hold his hand. He swore he must be dreaming, how can a creature like you, love him? You deserve the best things in life, he thought as he watched how every time he came home, you were there by the door.

He came home after a tough mission, you as always waited by the door. He dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around you. "fuck..I missed you so much." He said, it was so soft, almost like a whisper, his head nuzzled against your neck. He's home.

After a few days, he and his friends went out, he tried convincing you to go with him. "I have some work to do, besides you need to have some fun without me." you kissed his cheek. And he soon was on his way out. You worked on a paper for work, you kept your phone on, waiting for him to call you to pick him up. But he didn't call all night.

I'm wasting my time

when it was always you,

chasin' the high,

but it was always you

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

Ghost:

He was nearly blackout drunk, he wasn't thinking at all about the consequences when his mouth was on another person.

He liked it, it was something new, it was fun. The person took him to their place, all night he spent touching them, making them feel good.

Simon woke up around 5 am, a random person snuggling them. Their hands on his chest, just like you would rest them.

His head ached, it wasn't good, his eyes scanning the room, it wasn't your bed he was on, not the same bedsheets, or the same room. He got up and quickly changed and walked away from that strangers bed.

"Fuck fuck fuck." he whispered to himself, cursing his own name. "why simon, why did you fuck up!" he couldn't face you, not now. So he went to a coffee shop, he sat there in his sorrow, wiping tears as he thought of what he did.

"you okay?" asked an old man. "no, I fucked up." his eyes fixed on the piece of jewelry you gave him. It was a thing now, if he went away, you'd give him a necklace, ring or bracelet. "a piece of me while you're out there." He cried even more, remembering your soft words

"if you love them, then go on and tell them, be honest son." the man patted his back and walked away.

But he couldn't face you just yet, he still felt the other person on him. He felt dirty.

It was hate he felt, disgusted he would do this to you. He couldn't even touch himself, even if he was itchy, he didnt even dare scratch.

He walking along an empty road, thinking of you.

"I'm sorry, im sorry for what I did," his voice low, soft sniffles coming from him. He repeated this like a mantra.

A trained soldier, a man who hated lie, who betray him. And now here he was, laughing at his own mistakes. He was going mental.

He was alone with his thoughts and the worst part is that you aren't there to help them go away.

Price:

He wasn't the type to get drunk and flirt with anyone. Not since you came into his life, he was so respectful, always pushing strangers off of him. "I have a spouse waiting for me." he'd tell them.

This time he didnt say that, instead, he let them kiss him. He gave in, took them to his car and had a party of his own.

When it all ended, he sat there. The stranger put their clothes back on and walked off.

Now it was just him, he stared at the wheel.

He gasped once he realized what he had done. God he hated himself so much right now.

He pictured you, waiting by the door, looking at your phone just waiting for him to call you. "pick me up." he would've said, he would sit in his car and wait for you, the next morning you two would go pick it up. Having breakfast at a diner. But not this time.

He just sat, his hands brushing his hair out of desperation. He was so stressed.

He knew you'd be upset if you knew he was driving while intoxicated, so trying to at least do some good, he got off, locked the car and walked away.

As he made it closer to an open field, he screamed, letting all the anger and pain he felt leak out.

He then fell to his knees, crying as the cold night passed him by.

He laid on the floor. Trying not feel a thing, as his tears choked him out.

It was the worst kind of pain, his own heart begging for mercy.

"please..please.." he whispers, his voice shaky and unstable "please dont leave..please" it was as if he was a little kid all over again.

Gaz:

It wasn't like him to break promises, especially when he was breaking the ones he made to you.

He drank and drank, drowning in the alcohol, he wanted to let go for once. But if he knew he'd mess up this much, he would've never left you back home all alone.

When his lips met the strangers lips, it was indescribable, he wanted more, urged for more. By the morning, he walked back home, thinking of all that happened that night.

He wiped the tears that fell from his face.

"I'm so stupid, stupid, stupid." he hit himself a few times, each slap getting weaker and weaker.

He thought of how you'd react. You had been in relationships where you'd been cheated on, he assured you he wasn't like any of them.

You kept him like an oath, but all he had ever done was tuck you away, like his own little secret, a secret he had fucked up.

He threw up. It was remorse he was feeling by now. Never had he ever felt this way about something so awful.

He was a soldier. He was a human. He was a cheater.

All he ever wanted was to have a life with you, and now that future was far from reach.

As his own tears fell down to his face, he sat down, staring into the nothingness. It was pity that he was feeling, pity for how much one an idiot he is.

He wish he could get enough courage to face you and tell you what did, but that even then, courage couldn't help get out of this one. Nothing could. So he just sat and waited. The sun rising through and he was still there, like an abandoned dog, waiting for its owner.

It was a mistake. That wasn't a lie, but why did he like it? why did he think of you but felt nothing? Could it be he was just numb? or maybe it was his own heart begging for this everlasting pain to stop.

Soap:

It was no lie when he said that people are usually just attracted to him for no reason, he joked about it multiple times. But at the end of the day, he was yours and no one else's.

He was a little upset that you had said no to him, but he still had fun.

He was too drunk to think straight. In his own words "natural flirt" and this time this advantage had failed him, the person started to get hot too soon. But he didnt stop it, not until it was too late. He kissed the stranger, but he soon pushed them off.

He walked away from the bar. Yes it was something so small, but he knows you, even if he flirts with others you'd be upset/ jealous.

You and him had a talk a while back. "I think if it's not with your partner, then yes it's cheating." you said, he took notes, always flirting with you, ignoring the strangers that walked up to him. "I'm with someone, piss off" he spit out.

That would earn kisses from you, but this time? he was afraid of the outcome.

So he did was he knew best, he called Price. Poor man stayed up with him, listening to him cry and curse his whole existence.

By 4am, he had picked up another bottle. He drank from it as his life depended on it. He cried and cried. He wished his mother were there to yell at him.

"r/n, please." he begged as he looked up...he swore you were staring down at him while he was on his knees.

He walked home, he knew that if you were in the same position, you'd tell him. And now here he was, standing in front of you. his eyes red and puffy.

You tried to hug him, but he pushed you away, saying he doesn't deserve your gentle hands on him, he walked into the bathroom, and for a whole hour he cried in the shower. Water dripping down off him. He got out and told you about the whole thing.

He was a sobbing mess by 7 in the morning. He told you he understood if you wanted to end things now. He wouldn't blame you for anything

But what he did do was apologize, every sentence you spoke was followed by a soft and shaky sorry from his part.

König:

He didn't like to go out much, especially not without you. But this time, his team would be there, celebrating a victorious battle.

He got carried away in a stupid competition with one of his mates. He was so drunk he couldn't form words.A handsome/gorgeous stranger tapped his shoulder, and after some weird conversation, they were onto of him.

He mistook their flirting with kindness. His team knew it them moment the poor man was just talking about you to them. Because for seconds he swore he saw you there in front of him.

He pushed them off, running out to the alley of the bar. His breathing started to become uneven. His was dizzy, too dizzy for his own good.

He knelt down, his hands on his thighs. Silent cried came from him. He wiped the tears and sat down.

It was nothing but a mistake, if only he would convince you he didn't mean to kiss them.

But this was too much for him. He stood up, barely balancing on his feet. "r/n?" he looked in front of him. "liebling, I am sorry..please..please tell me you saw how they kissed me." he begged at the air, approaching the figure.

It was the alcohol that was making him see things.

And after much struggle, the team found him. He was staring at the road.

"C'mon, you have to get to your partner." a friend said, all he did was push them off.

He started to get aggressive, his pushes becoming punches. It took all of them to put him to the ground. They knocked him down and he felt at peace, his body finding a new pain to cure.

And as his face rested on cold ground, he cried once more. "I love r/n...I love them."

"we know..." his mates finally calming him down..."please tell them I love them." his voice now soft

Should've never let you go, my baby

̿̿ ̿'̿'̵͇̿̿з=༼ ▀̿̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿ ༽=ε/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿[} ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿

A/n: ok so this might've not been the best..but at least it was something..also happy GP weekend!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

[devilsainz]

First, Thank you @watercolor-hearts for tagging me! when i saw it i knew it wouldnt be an easy task (mostly because i love to talk a lot lmao) but i liked the concept and felt that it would be interesting way to dive more into the ships i am fond of.

Pairing/Shippy list!

Here are the rules:

1. List your top seven ships.

2. Put them all in order for your love for them; 7 to 1, 1 being your favourite.

3. Name the fandom.

4. Put a picture of the guys in question.

-

7. Ziam (Zayn/Liam Payne) (One Direction)

weird way to start this list, since its not f1 related, and i very much believe it's a dead ship now. But honestly they deserve this honorable mention for being the first ship i adopted, and i didnt even care about One Direction or their music around that time (in fact i cant remember even how i stumbled upon this ship lmao). These two together just had so much chemistry for me, either on stage, interviews, or anything really. also they were my introduction to this whole idea of "ship" (Larry was the absolute more popular one obviously, but it was Ziam that really SUCKED me in like a vacuum cleaner). Unfortunately, Liam's distasteful comments last year bursted my bubble about them (even though he has explained this year he wasn't in a good place, and i personally think they are okay with each other, even though still distant), but i still like to watch their compilation videos on youtube sometimes, it's quite bittersweet :')

6. Martian (Sebastian Vettel/Mark Webber) (Formula 1)

honestly i feel i just dont put these two higher because they feel somewhat new to me, like i need to dive into them more. I just think its such a fun ship in the sense that it has a looot of things going on at the same time, their very public rivalry and the famous multi 21, mark's angry face at that one press conference, it could be so so angsty but they just make me laugh (also, the making love on track quote is now burned into my brain so in no way they could be out of this list).

5. Christian horner/Toto wolff (Formula 1)

okay okay this is the part yall realize im actually crazy. but... they DO have chemistry when they are interacting, even in their non-amicable moments, and i do love myself some good enemies to lovers. Obviously it helps that i think they both are very actrattive, sexy middle aged men that have hunger for victory and i believe they hold so much respect and admiration for each other, considering they are the two most sucessfull TP's at this point. Also, HEIGHT DIFFERENCE.

4. Versainz (Max Verstappen/Carlos Sainz) (Formula 1)

(i wanted to find that ONE gif where he lifts carlos a little so bad but this one will do) Oh, this one really rocketed fast into my favorites. I just think they are just so wholesome. I always feel Max is warmer towards a certain number of drivers, and Carlos is one of them. And i dont even ship them in a ... kind of way, even tho it makes sense in my head the narrative that both were each others "first's" before going into bigger ships. Its just that it feels so special that both debuted together as teammates and, both took different trajectories in the way their career planned out, but theres still a genuine connection between them, at least in my view.

3. Maxiel (Max Verstappen/Daniel Ricciardo) (Formula 1)

I know its weird because i dont really post about them. But this falls into the same category as versainz for me, except that here there's a kind of dynamic that it makes me go "hmm... interesting". I always like to see max smiling and being happy because this boy went thru so much in his childhood, and oh how Daniel knows how to bring this side of Max. If Max can be warmer to certain drivers, for Daniel he has a whole SOFT SPOT, and i think that's very endearing. IMO, Daniel feels like the person that changed him in deeper ways we know, that one person that was indirectly a "life teacher" to him maybe, and thats special to me.

2. Brocedes (Lewis Hamilton/Nico Rosberg) (Formula 1)

Oh, the ANGSTY in this one. yes, this one deserves the ANGSTY in all caps because to me that's them. Oh to have lived through their divorce must have been heartbreaking but what a freaking cinematic ship this one is. I just can't ignore it. How it feels to me that Nico is the one who wears his heart on his sleeve, while Lewis has that chilling Capricorn control over his emotions is so. just so. And the fact that Nico's legacy is forever entangled in Lewis' name. If a movie screenwriter would come up with this, i'd think it would be overdramatic, but no, theyre actually this unhinged.

Charlos (Charles Leclerc/Carlos Sainz) (Formula 1)

how do i even start talking about these two idiots? Okay, so obviously i think they're both very attractive and that definetely helped me to ship them lmao. But thats kind of reductive, because these two have sooo much chemistry in my opinion, even before their ferrari days, there was so much potential waiting to bloom, and it did. I love their banter, their competitiveness, how they can get childlike around each other sometimes. How they are so physical, how they make each other laugh (let me not talk about their gazes to each other or i will not end this today). I love how Carlos doesn't hide he wants to compete with Charles (which brings him unnecessary hate sadly), and how both respect each other in this stance. There's a bit of angsty underneath this soft/fluffy surface too (more from Carlos' perspective imo - but lets not forget Charles and Silverstone 2022 too - this is my charlos angsty origin story), but they still find their way, and that kind of compels me even more into them. I just think theres so many layers, multitudes, in the way we can create, write and read about them. Absolute favorites.

-

Tagging @schumiatspa and @sainzjpeg 😊

obviously, feel free to ignore if you dont want to play, no hard feelings around here ❤, and also 7 ships are quite a work! if you're not tagged but want to make your list, feel free to do it and consider yourself tagged by me 😘

[ohtobeleah]

That video of Glen Powell playing with his nephew where he’s throwing him in the air. You CANT tell me after that Epilogue that Hangman wasn’t the fun uncle when he came to visit.

Are you talking about this one? Or even this one! Or this one because it’s my personal favourite. Special shout-out to @babyrooster thanks for the upload.

Because if those are any of the videos you’re talking about? Then yes. 100% Jake Seresin is always down 👏 to 👏 clown 👏 when it comes to your boys.

The Bradshaw resistance quickly becomes a home base for the rotating rag tag team of aviators you and Rooster saw as family. Jake Seresin and Robert Floyd being the two most frequent flyers. Always making time on whatever leave they had to visit, to catch up. To spend time with the boys who absolutely held their whole hearts. Nicholas and Thomas Bradshaw.

The two beautiful blonde haired, Heterochromia having ass ratbags. So much of their father and so much of you all at the same time. Some days you didn’t know how the tops of their little heads didn’t pop off.

“Oh your so having a girl—“ Hangman smirked from across the dinner table, Tom sitting on his lap as he played with his peas. “I just have a gut instinct.” Little Nick on yours as he drove his little toy plane over the small arch of your stomach. Already starting the show a heavy obsession with all things that could fly.

“My gut instinct tells me my husband has a weak pull out game.” Groaning, you took a sip of your water, five months along with your third child. “But yeah, it feels different this time, I haven’t been as sick.”

“Oof—“ Jake snickers as he bounced Tom on his knee. “You gonna let her talk about you like that Bradshaw—I wouldn’t take that if I were you.”

“And that’s why you’re ‘wife’ is half way across the world right now, Hangman.” Rooster whipped around from where he stood facing the sink in the the kitchen, his kiss the chef apron hugging his waist. Pointing a fork Hangman’s way. “My wife can talk to me and about me however she wants, I watched her birth my children man—free hall pass for life.” Rooster turned back to where he’d been cleaning the few bits and pieces after dinner. Jake couldn’t help but to laugh softly as he shook his head.

“Damn, I remember when you’re parents couldn’t even be in the same room without wanting to rip each other to pieces.” Cooing as he bounced Tom on his knee. The three year old giggling his infectious laugh as he tried to spoon his mushy peas into his mouth. Jake tickling his sides gently to keep the laughter going. “That’s right I know—your mama used to be so rude to uncle Jake, now look at her—such a big softy.”

“It’s called maturity.” Snapping back with a grin you moved Nick to your other knee. Jake gestured from across the table for you to hand him over, standing as you graciously accepted. He knew you were getting tired, he could see it in your eyes. The dark circles a little more prominent then usual.

“It’s called being lame, Chaos.” Carefully helping guide Nick down ad you placed him on Jakes other knee. Tom instantly sharing his mushy peas with his twin brother.

“Uh, you can’t call me that anyone—“ wiggling your finger. “I’m retired.”

“You’re always gonna be Chaos to me, you can’t not be! I have your god damn name tattooed on my body forever!” The small calligraphy Chaos that hid behind Jakes right ear would serve as a timeless reminder of the strength you showed, the determination that never wavered and the love you carried. Jakes drunken mind thought that having your call sign permanently tattooed would hopefully give him just an once of your courage.

“That’s your dumbass fault—“ Bradley chuckled as he made his way over, fully immersing himself into the conversation as he sat down at the table beside Hangman—sliding a cold beer his way.

“Much appreciated pops—“ Jake winked Roosters way, fatherhood really did suit him.

“Bet you didn’t think she’d discharge huh.”

“Still can’t believe you gave it up.” Holding your boys, the boys who melted his whole heart, Jake sent you a soft smile. He knew why you did what you did, he just couldn’t come to terms with it.

“Hey that’s what happens when I’m left to my own devices, they come with prices and vices and suddenly I end up in crisis and the next thing you know is I’m Ex Navy.” Your hands fell to your swollen stomach, your baby girl kicking you just as much as you kicked yourself sometimes for letting go of your career in favour of being a mum. You knew you could have done both, but something inside you told you that you needed to be around for the long haul. “Anyway, are you sure you’re good for tomorrow?”

“Absolutely don’t even stress.” Jake held your boys in his arms as Rooster stepped in to help Tom actual eat his peas and not just play with them. Spooning them up and into his mouth. “We’re gonna have a great day, just the bros hanging out, isn’t that right boys?”

“They’re like a year and a half man, they don’t talk very much.” Rooster beamed as he dabbed the mush around Toms mouth away. “But thanks for babysitting man, we really do appreciate it.” Whenever Jake was over, crashing in the spare room while stateside—he’d offer his baby sitting services. Especially now more then ever with a third on the way, some alone time without the boys probably came few and far between.

“It’s not a problem, honestly.” And it really wasn’t. If anything Jake actually enjoyed playing babysitter, a little more than he would have liked to admit. He had a reputation to uphold, but for your children he’d do anything. He’d always be there, and he always was.

Then next morning, Jake was up and about the house before the ass crack of dawn. His feet padding again hardwood flooring as he ran his hands through his hair. Yawning—in search of the fresh coffee Rooster had left in the pot after he’d been up with a restless Nick. 

“Sleep well?” Rooster asked as he held Nick on his hip. The tot had cried himself back to sleep. The bottle of breastmilk Rooster had defrosted still sitting on the counters as Hangman poured his cup.

“God your kids have a mean set of lungs.” Turning to lean on the counter as he sighed. “Honestly at one point I thought for sure one of them was being sliced and diced.” Bradley just held his little boy in his arms. Rocking his hips side to side.

“Nicks been having some night terrors lately, not sure what’s causing it but Sarah said Chaos used to get them as a kid, guess it’s just hereditary?” Rooster cooed as he watched Jake frown, sipping his coffee like it was the elixir of life.

“Why do you get to call her that?”

“Call who what?”

“Y/n, you called her Chaos—“

“Oh, well yeah I guess it’s just gonna be a hard habit to break.” And it was. Rooster never stopped, no matter how many times you told him to. And Jake was no better.

“Now are you sure you’ll call if there’s any drama?” You asked as you packed a few extra diapers into the diaper bag. Rooster had his phone out recoding Jake as he threw little Tom into the air a few times before placing him on his hip. Reaching out for his glasses shortly after he settled in on uncle Jakes hip. “Because we’re not going too far, just to the day spa about twenty minutes away.”

“Choas—I promise you’re children are safe with me. We’ll be fine.”

“Okay—“

“I mean I’m hoping that the straps on the super hornets go a little tighter but—“ Slapping his chest with the back of your hand, a thud rang loud. Jake beamed your way as he brought you in for a side hug. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding—F-14 Tomcat?”

“It’s not funny!” Mumbling into Jakes side as you handed your twins over for the day. “They won’t be as dumb as us.” Rooster had to hold back his laughter, he knew there was no way his sons wouldn’t follow in his footsteps. He’d followed his dad and so had you, what would change the tradition.

“Well, regardless—we’re gonna have a great day.” Jake leaned over to pick the strap of the dipper bag up. Throwing it over his shoulder as he scooped up Nick—both tots on his hips respectfully. “Because I’m determined to be a the cool uncle.”

****~****~****~****~****~****~****~****~****~****

Read The Chaos Series Here

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[lanterns-and-daydreams]

Hello! This is my first ever fanfic that i have written, so it might be kind of bad, but please bear with me. I hope you enjoy it :)

WINE AND WOES

Warnings: spoilers of The Battle of the Labyrinth and The Last Olympian

CHAPTER 1

NIGHTMARES

Pollux

I cant breathe. My throat feels like its constricting. I feel like im being strangled. Theres hands on my neck, his hands. Help. Help. Help-

I jolt awake, breathing heavily. The room is quiet, the only sound being my heavy, laboured breaths. I sit up slowly, my lungs feeling like their burning, my eyes stinging. I look around my dorm. I moved to Camp Jupiter a while after the battle with Gaia to go New Rome University to study botany.

I try to regulate my breathing, but its hard, especially when thoughts of him plague me almost every night. My throat constricts. Its been years since he died, and yet, everytime i think of him, my heart feels as if theres a hole in its place. A gaping hole, full of nothing but grief, regret, and guilt. I couldve saved him, i shouldve saved him. I shouldve been there. It should've been me and not him. Tears sting my eyes and threaten to fall as i try desperately not to remember his face. But that proves to be extremely difficult when his face is the same as mine

Its your fault

Its not my fault i try to convince myself, albeit however much it sounds like a lie

Is that the delusion you live under?

Please. Please, leave me alone, as if im not haunted enough

You deserve it. You deserve this pain.

The tears begin to slowly roll down my cheeks and i can do nothing to stop them. My breath hitches and i sob. He haunts my nightmares, he haunts me and won't leave me alone. I can never escape him, no matter how hard i try. He looks like me. Everytime i look in the mirror, i see him. His lifeless face. The face that couldve-- shouldve-- been full of life and light. A face that shouldve been smiling and grinning. The face of the boy who i grew up with. My brother, my twin, my other half.

Castor

I choke at the memory of his name. I try to get out of bed and move. I dont know where im going, i dont know what im doing. My legs wobble and i fall to the floor on my knees, my vision blurring momentarily. His face flashes behind my eyes. His lifeless face as his body went limp on the floor after he got stabbed and then hit on the head by an enemy. I couldnt help him. My arm was broken, and all i could do was lay there, staring at my brother, bleeding to his death, as he smiled at me one last time and did the little salute we always did ever since we were kids in a way of saying 'see ya later, loser' before his eyes glazed over.

I fall to my side and wrap my arms around myself, hugging myself as my body trembles. I was in denial, the whole way when another demigod helped me get to the healing camp, i was in denial. Pretending he wasnt dead, hoping so desperately that this was all just a dream, that he'd come back to me, that id wake up in my cabin and id see him laying on the bed next to mine.

I remember when his shroud burned. Purple and violet flowers, violet like his eyes, and the symbol of our father, Dionysus. I had stared, tears streaming down my face. Not bawling, not sobbing, just silently having a war with myself, and others must have seen it too. Will came to me afterwards, asking if i was okay, i hadnt answered him, he left after that. I wanted to cry, i wanted to sob and be angry, but i couldn't. I didnt know what was wrong with me, i hated myself for it.

I had gone back to my cabin. And then i had sobbed and bawled and cried till i had blacked out. I had skipped meals, and shut myself out. I thought itd get better with time. It did not. Even a snippet of our memories together makes me weak and vulnerable and want to cry.

Memories of our childhood flash behind my eyes. Two small boys, playing in the strawberry fields of Camp Half-Blood, eating strawberries, laughing and running around, their faces full of light and happiness, the sun gleaming in their golden blond hair, the light shining in their violet eyes, making them look like pieces cut from the purest of amethysts.

Two boys, arguing over what their secret handshake should be, and then eventually deciding on a two fingered salute. Stealing eachother's toys, clothes, and food, telling the worst jokes to each other but cracking up anyway, pretending to be each other and imitating personalities. Goofing around all day, pretending the world wasnt all that bad, as long as they had eachother. I used to always look for him when i woke up, checking the bed next to me to see if he was there.

And then the battle with Kronos had happened, and then one of them was gone. Now i dont even have to look at the bed next to mine when i visit Camp Half-Blood to know hes not there

My eyes land on the vertical upright mirror. I see a boy staring back at me, his face tear-streaked and his blond hair matted to his forehead, his chest moving up and down with his laboured breaths. Its him. Its me. And its all i have left.

Being alone had never bothered me. Castor didnt stay with me all the time, sometimes he left to train, or go talk with some other campers, or just going about his day in general. We were the only Dionysus kids, so we didnt really have any other siblings, so i was alone a lot. Being alone never bothered me, but being alone has never felt this lonely.

I shut my eyes, letting the sting subside. I sigh and open them again.

Im sorry

You should be

I close my eyes again and imagine him here.

I know. I am. Im sorry. I wish i could bring you back, but even if i could, i would never bring you back to this hell. All i hope for is that you can forgive me, and that you wait for me in the Elysium. We'll meet again, Cas. One day. One day, ill see you again. But till then, all i have are my wine and woes

[godteri-takk]

I hate that i cant remember names of other peeps oc SORRY

But u have coral? It think so

To them 2, 6, 9, 18, 37, 43

And to Kation: 12, 15, 18, 24,

Anddd to u

Coral: A, B, J

Kation A, B, J as well

Oh wow this is a LOT! This'll be so fun to answer thank you :D theres art too! Image:desc in ALT

Coral (she/he)

2: How easy is it for them to laugh?

Laughter doesn't always come easy to him, and for long he was ashamed of her laughter. It's a snorty laugh in short quick puffs, I think it's really cute! She feels comfortable laughing around close friends tho, especially late at night after a long hang-out with candy and music :)

6: Do they consider laws flexible or immovable?

She want to be rebellious but in his heart, he thinks they're immovable.

9: Do they swear? First swear word?

He started swearing only after he'd Fallen, and the first one was shit xD

18: What embarrasses them?

Being wrong, wearing clothes he's not comfortable with, not having control over his body, showing people his vent-art, stuttering, being judged, being messy, a lot of things honestly.

37: Do they have a system to remember things?

She ties the thing she need to remember to a visual picture. For example, if needing to remember how to spell the word "carpet" she'll imagine a little kitty in a car. Car-pet.

43: how would they explain their sexuality?

Ooooh that could've been a post on its own tbh. No! I'll keep it brief! Coral is objectum. He's aroace when it comes to people. His beloved objects, his partners, are Boy! the bunny plushie, Rey the computer, Sugar the flip-phone and Stellar the chain. They're depicted in both the ref-sheets :) So the main type of objects he's attracted to are plushies, technology, chains and sometimes buildings :) But you know, just as with other sexualities, she's not attracted to EVERY object tn these categories, just as lesbians aren't attracted to ALL girls.

Kation (hen/she/it)

12: How do they deal with a itch in a spot they can't reach? (Thats so spesific what XD)

Can only imagine that being its back. Use a stick or rub its back against something like a corner, a tree, the couch, anything

15: How do they speak?

She talks on the spot and use a lot of slang and some swear-words, she's quite outspoken and its emotions affect their tone a lot. Its voice is kinda deep and rough/ragged, with a growl hiding just under the surface of the voice.

18: what embarrasses them?

Failing in things hen thought hen was good at, sharing vulnerable feelings, admitting flaws, being considered weak or mean

24: Are they comfortable talking about sex? With whom?

Kation is very confident in its sexuality and is comfortable with talking about it with anyone who wants to! It's just a casual topic to her.

To Me!

A: What am I excited about these characters?

About Kation I love its design and powers and personality, I love to draw hen and Imagine hen in all kinds of scenarios, how hen interact with others, anything. Designing outfits for both Kation and Coral is super fun, about Coral i love his emotional life, her facial expressions, that she's objectum, his past, his inner conflicts and problems and worries.

B: what inspired me to create them?

Kation was created because I needed a main character in my comic. Hen is a fat, nonbinary demon cus those are all things i think we should see more in media. Well... mostly the first 2, there's a lot of demons lol. But i think those 3 things is a great combo! Coral, as first depicted here, I just drew him cus I wanted to redraw the album photo for Replicas Redux by Gary Numan (with Are 'Friends' Electric? in mind). But I didn't want to draw the guy himself so i just switched him out w a demon i designed on a whim. I liked her design a lot and decided to add her to the lore of the comic i made, and make him Kations best friend, soon with lore of his own!

Question J was only for fandom OCs it seems so ... yeah :)

Wow this was fun!!! Thank you so much I hope it was interesting, either way i now have a cool post with lots of OC lore n stuff!

[daandyli0n]

so. hey fnaf fans. i had A Thought.

do y'all think that any of the MCI kids + Charlie and the Crying Child (i call him Adrian) just hung out with lonely kids in the restaurants? do you think they ever said or did anything odd that the living kids just kinda brushed off at the time?

like, hear me out:

- Charlie letting overwhelmed or bullied kids spend time in the Prize Corner during the quieter times, away from the loud music near the stage and away from other kids. they'd draw, vent about their problems, or even just talk about their days. all while Charlie would just quietly listen and nod, giving advice where she believes it's appropriate.

and sure, she looks like she's wearing makeup to look similar to the Puppet, but hey, they aren't gonna judge! it looks nice on her anyway.

- Susie watching others play games in the arcades, sometimes telling them how to win. she looks and acts like a bubbly six-year-old who just wants someone to talk to and play with. she even rambles on about her dog when she's allowed to.

sometimes she seems really sad and quiet, talking about how she wants to go home, how she still hurts, and how she doesn't understand why she cant leave. some kids try to help her find her parents, to convince hem to take her home, but they don't have any luck. she seems to disappear into the crowds shortly afterwards, though.

- Gabriel always wants to watch the band, and sometimes kids will see him sitting near the stage, still watching and listening. other times they see him, he's always hiding behind corners, in the shadows.

sometimes, he doesn't even say anything. if people interact with him, he'll run off into other rooms, only to mysteriously vanish.

- Jeremy, the prankster he was in life, constantly makes funny faces at other kids, sometimes making them laugh, other times annoying them. he jokes with scared, sad kids, playing games with them.

the kids do wonder, though, why adults ask who they're laughing at. can't they see the boy making silly faces at them?

- Fritz, usually off by himself while watching Foxy's shows, generally attracts other lonely kids to him like moths to a flame. they sit near him, trying to give him company. sometimes they'd talk about pirates with him.

however, when people would ask who they were talking to, they'd try to introduce him, only for him to be gone. what's more, he'd always seem to disappear when Foxy was done performing...

- sometimes, kids are just assholes. they find keys to the Backstage area, dare their friends to go back there, only to lock them in. those kids find two oddities back there, after they manage to calm down enough, obviously. one was a weird golden bear, looking eerily similar to Freddy, only his bowtie and hat were purple and he wore a purple vest. the other oddity? this weird kid who called themself Cassidy. they'd keep the kids company, talking with them, giving them a nice distraction until an employee came to get them out.

however...one little girl tells a weird story. in her case, the man who came to get her was some guy with the name "Dave." upon him unlocking the door, Cassidy had gone from calm, happy to talk, to almost dead silent, a death grip on her arm. "Mr. Dave," as she'd called him, could clearly see her and Cassidy...but he almost seemed more shocked to see Cassidy. as she tried to get up to leave, Cassidy wouldn't get up from the floor, still holding onto her arm for dear life, still giving "Dave" a death stare. eventually, they let her go, but she felt panicked as "Dave" took her out and locked the door, Cassidy still inside. she stared at the door for a couple of more hours until she left, and then...Cassidy was outside again. she just remembers them hugging her, muttering something about just being worried that she'd get hurt, and then declining as she offered to let them come home with her. her mom got worried about the clear as day bruise on her arm, but more concerned about the fact that she said that another kid gave it to her. she never saw Cassidy again after that day.

(Afton knows he could've done something that day. the opportunity was practically handed to him on a silver platter; a young child, alone, in the backroom, on a day the cameras were malfunctioning. it would've been far too easy.

but, well, Cassidy was right there too, and they clearly weren't going to let him remotely hurt her. they had her arm in a grip so hard that he's shocked it only left a bruise, not outright broken it. he knows that Cassidy was holding back. had he tried to even tried hurting her? whatever restraint Cassidy had would've gone right out the window.)

- kids would find Adrian off on his own, crying. some kids would offer to sit with him, or show him the animatronics. upon seeing how scared he was, some would either decide to sit with him, just to give him company, or promise to stand between him and the animatronics, so that he wouldn't have to see them. other times, he'd approach kids who were scared, upset, or crying, and sit with them. some of them would talk about how they were called "crybabies" or "scaredy-cats." he would just nod. "It's okay. I've been called those things, too." sometimes he suggests that maybe they could hold hands and watch the animatronics together, so maybe they'd both be less scared (he remembers Cassidy doing it with him, all the way back then. he wants to help other kids like Cassidy helped him).

some kids do have to wonder, though...why is he always crying? and why does he always wear bandages on his head? did he get hurt?

of course, years go by, and memories fade, but not always completely. those with more odd experiences would look up the names of the kids they met, wondering where those kids ended up.

they find newspaper articles, kids who vanished years before they would be encountered, missing children posters with smiling photos of kids, taken in the days, weeks, months before they disappeared. they still looked the exact same as they did when they went missing. they find two other articles: one on a girl who was slain and then left for dead in the alley at Freddy's, and a boy who lost his life in a tragic prank gone wrong. suddenly, other details line up for the now-adults, remembering those odd kids they met. their pale skin. their oddly quiet nature. adults and other kids not seeing them. the vanishing into the shadows within seconds.

and it makes these adults wonder, with a growing feeling of dread in their guts:

what exactly had they encountered at Freddy's when they were kids? odd children, or spirits that roamed Freddy's halls?

[content-d3leted]

Here's some random terrible sketches I've done throughout the past 3 months that each took me less than 2 minutes to create because I'm lazy!! It's more about the...essence of what the image conveys rather than the art itself lol

I love how yellow the show is. Maybe it's just because my phone screen is made to see everything through a warm-ish filter, but certain series (especially s4) just have such a yellowy vibe to it...I have no idea why, but I love it so much

Also I love how in series 1 whenever Justin sat on the sofa, Robert always wanted to sit squished between him and the armrest so they were directly next to eachother, it's so CUTE!

(ignore the poor quality of the screenshot) LOOK AT ROBERTS FACE. HE IS ENJOYING IT. HE IS CONTENT. HE JUST WANTS TO BE CLOSE TO HIS BESTIE!! It's so sad that they got rid of this little thing he always did, I wonder what happened that made Robert stop?!?! Maybe he eventually realised that Justin found it annoying (except I'm pretty sure J secretly thought it was sweet) lol

Ngl series 1 had some of the most hilarious moments of the entire show in there. One of my favourites is in 'Suits you' (I think that's its name, it's episode 7 I think) when Robert has the conversation with Dee that goes something like-

R:" Sir is having a bath."

D:"Oh, well I can't give him the paper in the bath!"

R:"No.."

D:"The paper will get all soggy!"

R:"..............yes"

THE WAY HE SAYS THAT LAST LINE ABSOLUTELY KILLS ME ITS SO FUNNY FOR NO REASON

AND THEN AFTERWARDS WHEN DEE MAKES THAT RUBBISH JOKE AND ROBERT MAKES THE FAKE LAUGHING AUDIO PLAY. AND YOU JUST SEE THE LIGHT FADING FROM HER EYES. THE CORNERS OF HER MOUTH SLOWLY FLATTENING. LIKE NO ROBERT YOU'RE NOT MEANT TO SLOWLY CRUSH THE JOY FROM THIS POOR WOMAN BECAUSE OF A BAD JOKE.

And also there was such a sweet moment in the blocked pipe episode, when Robert was going into the basement to check for the pipe, and after doing his (unbearably cringe) 'Robert the brave' lines, he said "and Sir.........I'll miss you!" THE WAY HE SAID AND ACTED WHEN DOING THAT WAS SO CUTE. HE MUST REALLY LIKE JUSTIN TO MISS BEING AWAY FROM HIM FOR 30 SECONDS MAX. And Justin's fake annoyance afterwards was so funny too because I know that deep inside he thought that was adorable

Its kinda sad at how little Robert thinks of himself when it comes to his relationship with Justin. For example in the Roberta episode, he is literally on the brink of leaving the house forever?!?! Just because Justin bought a new robot to HELP him! He really believes that their friendship is just gone like that because of his..jealousy I suppose? Same in the Justi Moment episode (literal copy and paste episode), where he is on the verge of tears because Justin, yet again, bought a robot to help him out! I suppose Robert truly does believe sometimes that he is only fantasising of having a good relationship with J, and that Justin doesn't reciprocate those feelings (which is obviously not true).

Mac's first episode is so heartbreaking though. The fact that Justin did not stop a single time to consider the consequences of leaving his literal family for a couple of years is so sad. And Robert's little monologue bit was so tragic :( , but imagine what it would of been like if Justin actually didn't return for a couple of years, and how devastated Robert would of been. I wonder how he'd react to Justin coming back after so long?? He'd probably never want to see him again after that tbf. Also I do wonder why Robert was so nervous and awkward about meeting Mac for the first time, since he's never been known to do it before when meeting other newcomers. The poor guy was clinging on to Meradith for dear life in some scenes!

It's quite interesting that Robert canoniclly has a physical disability with his right foot coordinator (I think that's what it is, cant remember the exact thing) being faulty so sometimes he'll mess up with walking. Also quite interesting that robots can HAVE physical disabilities. Surely their parts can be replaced or fixed? I wonder why Robert never decided to fix it, perhaps because he didn't think it was important enough? Although I'm pretty sure it does affect him, since multiple times throughout the show he's shown to have a travelling cane of some sorts, meaning he literally needs a walking stick to get around sometimes- so it must be an annoying thing to have. Maybe he's worried about having an operation on his leg? Actually now that I think about it, coordination takes place in the brain, so maybe he's unable to fix it because of that (because I'm pretty sure messing with someone's brain is....not the greatest thing lol)

I'm so tired abdiejdeodnkdslsnjwls