#something about the fact that they both look similar at least in color but one of them is poisonous.

[shimmershy]

Buttercups and Golden Flowers

[sports-on-sundays]

hi hi hi!

i was wondering if i could request something where reader is arthur's best friend and he introduces her to charles. but then charles falls in love with reader first while reader has a partner and he confesses to her but she tells him she can't. and then a while later reader breaks up with her bf and charles shoots his shot again and she agrees to go out with him?

thank you sm 🫂

taken / CL16

Summary: Charles x female!reader - Your best friend's brother just so happens to have a thing for you. You just so happen to have a boyfriend.

Requested?: Indeed.

Author's Note: Did you read my mind? I was just thinking of an idea very similar to this one!

You're a little nervous to enter the Leclerc household. Not because you think they won't be just the sweetest people you've ever met- you're sure they will be, considering how Arthur turned out. No, you were just a little nervous to meet his older brothers. Particularly Charles.

You aren't even sure why. Maybe just because of his extreme fame. But Arthur is famous too... He races in F2.

But Arthur invited you to dinner with his family, saying his mother and brothers wanted to meet you, from all the good things he always said about you.

You had grinned and teased, "What sort of things do you say about me?"

And he had teased back, giving a playful smile, "I said you make the best fruit salad. That got them interested."

Now you sit in the passenger's seat of his car, a bowl of fruit salad sitting in your lap. Arthur pulls up to his house. "How you feeling?" he asks, shooting you a grin.

"Never better. Come on- I can't wait to meet your brothers."

"Aw, never mind my brothers! It should be my mother you're excited to meet!" He gets out of the car, and you follow, falling in step with him as you walk up to the house.

As you're halfway up the walk, the door opens, and Pascale Leclerc opens the door. "Bonjour Arthur et Y/n!"

You respectfully smile and respond back in French, "It's a pleasure to meet you!" You shake hands, and she holds the door for you and her youngest son.

"The other two are making a mess in the living room. I'm working on dinner. Why don't you join them?"

"Merci," Arthur smiles, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek, before leading you to the living room.

And there they are. Charles and Lorenzo Leclerc, lounging on the sofa. Both of them look away from the television when you enter with Arthur, and their faces brighten.

Charles stands up and shakes your hand. Lorenzo follows, doing the same thing. "Nice to meet you, Y/n," Charles chuckles, "Arthur has said so much about you."

"Oh, really? Other than my professional fruit salad making?"

Arthur cracks up as the elder Leclerc brothers give confused smiles. Arthur explains, "I never actually told them about your fruit salad-!"

"You liar!" you snap, giving him a playful shove.

Then the four of you settle down, and Lorenzo says, "So... You've ought to tell us about the fruit salad, then."

You shrug, your nervousness already dissipating. There's something about all three of these guys- they're just so natural, so sweet. "It's nothing much. Arthur just really likes this fruit salad I make." You roll your eyes.

"Really? Maybe we'll have to try it sometime," Charles smiles.

"I brought some for our dinner tonight!" you grin, meeting the man's eyes, which are nearly the same color as Arthur's- at least in this lighting.

"Oh, good," he nods.

The conversation continues like this for the rest of the night, and dinner is sweet. As the night goes on, your heart grows fonder and fonder of Arthur's family, just as it did when you first met Arthur himself.

Before you're about to leave, you ask awkwardly, "Oh! Uh, Charles, I was wondering..." The F1 driver looks up. "If I could, you know, get a picture with you. You know, so that once you become a world champion I have proof I met you." You are fully aware of how stupid this reason is, and are just avoiding the fact that you're totally the biggest Ferrari fan around.

Charles, laughs at this and starts to say, "Sure, we can-"

But his mother interrupts, "Come on, now. Charles isn't so special. Let me take a picture of the four of you. Give me your phone, honey." You hand your phone to her gratefully, and you stand for a picture, between Arthur and Charles, with Lorenzo on the other side of Charles. You feel Arthur's arm over your shoulders, and Charles' hand gently on your lower back.

After taking a few pictures, she hands your phone back, and you thank them, saying with a laugh, "Sorry if that made it awkward!"

Lorenzo says, "We don't mind," at the same time as Charles saying, "I'm used to it," at the same time as Arthur saying, "Yeah, Y/n, you made it super awkward."

The whole ride home in Arthur's car, you babble to him about his family and how sweet they are and this and that and the other thing. You find yourself especially mentioning Charles' name, though.

Arthur just listens as he drives, every so often putting in his two cents. When you make it to your house and he drops you off, you wave and get out. For the rest of the night, you can't stop thinking about the Leclerc's.

For the next six or seven months, Arthur invites you over a few more times. On this night, you're staying the night, because your house is having renovations on it. And probably because Arthur wanted some stupid slumber party or something, but was too cool to say it, as a grown adult man in his twenties. But facing it, Arthur totally has the heart of a stupid baby.

You could have just stayed in your home, but Pascale invited you over as soon as Arthur apparently mentioned to her that it was tough for you because of all the renovations.

Your boyfriend wasn't available to help you out because he had an accident about a workweek ago and has been in the hospital since. He's going to have to undergo surgery for a fracture. It hurts you to have to be away from him, but you have responsibilities, and have been staying with him, getting nearly no sleep, for the past four days. You boyfriend understood and even pushed you to let yourself go home, assuring you he'd be fine.

The whole Leclerc family has been warming up to you, but especially Charles, it seems. He often gives you nice comments on your looks and praise on your sweet personality.

Now you sit on Arthur's bed in his mother's house, on your phone. He's just gone to take a shower, leaving you by yourself. You believe that the only other person home is Pascale, who you assume is in bed by now.

You feel a shiver at the cold air conditioning, so you slip off Arthur's bed and walk to the corner of the room, grabbing a hoodie hanging on a hook, assuming it's Arthur's and knowing he wouldn't mind you wearing it. You pull it over, instantly feeling warmer as the soft cloth rubs against your cold arms and the scent of men's cologne fills your nose. It's a little big on you, so feels like a warm cozy blanket, almost.

At the growl of your stomach, you quietly slip out of Arthur's room, figuring you'll go unnoticed and be back on Arthur's bed before he ever knew you left his room. You head to the kitchen on soft feet. I'll just grab a little something from the fridge. You gently push open the door to the kitchen, but stop dead in your tracks when your eyes settle on the man standing in the kitchen. Charles looks up from the eggs he's making on the stove, and your eyes meet.

"Oh... Hey, Charles," you smile softly, awkwardly stepping into the kitchen. "Why are you here...?" You don't think before you ask that question.

He chuckles. "I'm sorry. Why are you here?" But the smile on his face is sweet. "Arthur mentioned you were staying over for the night offhandedly. I figured maybe I'd drop by."

You nod slowly, feeling a little awkward.

There's a soft smile on Charles' face as he looks down at the food he's making. You watch as he transfers his eggs onto a plate. "You look cute in my hoodie, by the way. Where'd you find it? I've been looking for that one all over; I swear."

"Oh, God," You can't help but feel embarrassed. "It was in Arthur's room- I'm sorry, I didn't know, I'll take it off n-"

"No, it's fine," Charles says quickly. "I haven't seen that hoodie in months. Not sure why it was in Arthur's room, but I don't mind. In fact, you can keep it if you want..."

"Oh, well, I don't know about that, but..." You trail off, not exactly sure what you were going to say next anyway. You glance to the refrigerator as you feel another pang of hunger in your stomach.

Charles seems to notice this and says, "Want some of my eggs? Here, I'll split them in half." He grabs a plate.

"Well I wouldn't want to take your food," you quickly say. "You made that for yourself."

But Charles shrugs, handing you the plate. "I made myself too much anyway. This will be enough." He leans against the kitchen counter and starts eating, so you shrug and stand next to him, starting to eat your own food.

"Thanks, Charles. This is good." It's really not good. Kind of bland and the texture is weird, but you don't complain. You're just happy he's feeding you.

"You're welcome," he says softly, staring out. His eyes are glazed over as if there's something bugging him. You're about to ask about it when he suddenly turns to you, that look gone from his eyes and replaced with a much brighter one. "Hey, Y/n." He speaks in an overly casual tone, and a little quickly. "I know you've probably figured this out by now, but I was just wondering-" He hesitates, and finished with a little smile, "Next Wednesday night, are you available? Sorry it's a random day- my upcoming week is pretty full, but..." He trails off, apparently deciding he's rambling too much now, and just looks at your face, waiting for an answer.

Only now do you realize how close his face is to yours. Only now do you see his constant sweet comments were more like flirting. Only now you notice the look in his eyes is less like the one of an older brother, and more like the one of a man who's interested. This shocks you. While of course you can't deny he's extremely handsome, and while of course you can't deny you're kind of a huge fan of his, and while of course you can't deny he has one of the sweetest personalities ever, it's never honestly really crossed your mind at all that he could like you in a way like that. And you know why this is. If you didn't have a boyfriend, you're sure you'd already have a huge crush on Charles by now. It would be a classic 'being into your best friend's hot older brother'.

But you feel so such feelings now. You swallow, meeting his glimmering eyes. "Are you asking me out?" You just want to be sure.

His face brightens, his little dimples showing with his smile. He nods. "Exactly."

You blink and look down. You carefully choose your words: "I'm very flattered, Charles. Thank you. I'm afraid I'll have to say no- You must not know that I already have a boyfriend."

Charles looks over and opens his mouth to say something, but suddenly the need wells up within you to quickly add, "I mean the reason why I'm not staying with my boyfriend tonight while so many of the rooms in my house are getting renovated is only because he's in the hospital right now so regularly I'd be doing that but you know he's gone so I was gonna just stay in my half-done flat but then Arthur and your mum suggested-"

Suddenly Charles very gently cuts off your anxious rambling, placing a hand on your arm, "I'm so sorry to hear that, Y/n. Sounds like... a lot's just kind of coming done on you, huh? I've been there. I... I'm sorry for bringing that up... you know, asking you out and all. I had no idea; I swear." He genuinely looks like he does feel bad for it.

"Oh, it's okay, Charles..." Your eyes meet his, and you can't help but realize how much of a sweetie he really is. "Thanks... It's fine. You didn't know. I just- yeah. Thanks for understanding. You probably know how it is- sometimes in hard times it's nice to just have a few people that have got your back." You hesitate, before finishing in nearly a whisper, "Honestly, Charles, you and your family feel like... You're all so dear to me. You're starting to feel more like home than my own family." Your own family who don't have your back right now, while the Leclerc's do.

He smiles and gently gives you probably the softest hug you've ever received. It's short, and he pulls away quickly, saying with a soft smile, "I should have assumed you have a boyfriend already. I can't imagine a woman as beautiful as you not." He winks.

You smile softly, staring at the kitchen floor. There was something about that hug... Just so needed. It was so comforting. Arthur is good at comforting too, but in a different way. He's not a hug type of guy. He just jokes and distracts and keeps your mind off your troubles. You weren't expecting such a sweet hug from Charles just now.

You chuckle and look back up to meet his eyes. "You are not smooth, you know," you tease, although in all honesty, he kind of is.

"Alright," he nods, clearly enjoying a little bit of teasing, "you keep telling yourself that."

Then Arthur comes in, saying, "Y/n, there you are! Let's go to my room; I'm done showering. I have some funny sh*t to show you."

You walk away with Arthur, but can't help but glance back at at Charles. He attempts at another wink, but ends up pretty much just blinking. You chuckle to yourself.

"What?" Arthur asks.

"Oh, nothing. Just your brother."

About three months later, Arthur stands up from the sofa in Charles flat when his phone starts ringing. "I've got to take this," Charles' younger brother comments, walking out of the room. He shuts the door to the hallway behind him. Charles really doesn't care and is about to take out his own phone and start scrolling, but his ears perk up when he hears his brother say, "Hey, Y/n. What's good?"

Charles knows he shouldn't, but can't help himself from listening to Arthur's half of your phone conversation, which is: "I'm good. Any reason you called?... What is it?... Oh, I'm sorry, Y/n. How are you taking it?... Oh? Why?... That's good, Y/n. The last thing you need is a broken heart, huh? Then I'd have to fix it up for you... No, I didn't mean it like that!" Arthur laughs. "...So, how's it feel to be a single woman again?" Charles' eyes stare at the door, his heart involuntarily beating faster. "...No, no, Y/n! That's not what I meant! Gosh, why do all the things I say sound so obnoxiously flirtatious? I'm not even trying to sound like that... Oh, yeah, I don't... Okay, hah... Oh, I'm just hanging out with Charles... No, no, he didn't. I'm out of the room. I know sometimes you have personal things to say... Why do you sound disappointed?... Oh, right, sorry... Alright, bye bye, Y/n... Bye." As soon as Charles hears the phone beep and the doorknob to the room starts to turn open again, he stares down back at his phone, trying to calm his nerves as best he can. He'd feel terribly bad if he knew Arthur had known he was eavesdropping.

"Who was it?" Charles asks, trying to sound as natural as possible, at the same time as trying not to sound obnoxious or nosy.

"Oh, just Y/n," Arthur says, and quickly moves on with another topic of conversation. But the whole time, Charles can't stop thinking about you.

There was no way you weren't going to be going to Abu Dhabi with the Leclerc boys. So here you are, Sunday race day, on the paddock for the last F1 race of the season.

Suddenly, though, you feel a distinct touch on your arm, different from all the other people bumping into you from around. You turn to that direction and fix your eyes on Charles Leclerc.

Oh God. Why is your heart suddenly racing like this? It's been about three months since cutting it off with your now ex-boyfriend, and pretty much the day after that, a little seed of liking for Charles that you had been keeping from nourishing for all this time sprouted.

It's like it's been an underlying feeling you've had for... Well, probably over a year now. And even before that, you certainly had a little fangirl crush on him; no doubt about that one.

His hair, which is in need of a little trim you think (not seriously bad) is slightly messed up, and he has the sweetest little shine in his honestly quite lovely eyes. He's recently shaved, and his little dimples are so defined right now in the outdoor light of the late afternoon. You can't help but notice how his defined jawline turns into his strong neck, and how broad and strong his shoulders are. And on top of it all his tight fireproof defines his pecs so clearly you-

God, why are you checking Charles out like this?

"Y/n?" Charles asks, "Did you hear me?" Apparently, you'd been so taken away by his appearance (which is literally how he looks pretty much every race weekend...?) that you hadn't even heard him the first time.

You blush. "Oh, right, sorry. Yes?"

His lip twitches, and he seems to study you now, before leaning close and saying as soft as possible while still having you hear, "I was wondering... When we get back to Monaco, could I take you out to eat? It's just that I heard you broke up with-"

"Yes," you blurt, and kind of want to slap yourself. Just a little bit.

But his face lights up at your seemingly extreme willingness. "Really? So do you feel the same way?"

"Well," you put a teasing smile on, "I'd have to know how you feel about me first before answering that."

"You know..."

"Then say it."

"Well, I have feelings for you."

"Well, then maybe I have feelings for you, too." Your heart is pounding.

"So that means you'd like to go out to eat with me?"

You smirk softly. "I guess it does."

You open your door, wearing your best. Charles insisted on bringing you to a very nice, expensive place. You weren't so sure- that's not quite your type of environment- but agreed to it.

And, well, he looks amazing.

He wears a fitting black tuxedo, dress shoes, and a lovely smile on his face. Lovely dimples.

But he says, "Oh my God, Y/n." Intense feelings briefly flash in his eyes. "That dress... those shoes... your makeup... your hair. You look... gorgeous."

"Oh, stop," you murmur, smiling softly, looking away.

"Well, then, princess," he takes your hand in his, gently in his and kisses it, before walking to his Ferrari with you, still holding your hand. Despite how cheesy and cliché this really is, you can't help but be charmed.

He opens the car door for you and you get in. He shuts it and when he starts driving, takes your hand in his again. "Y/n," he says softly, "I'm going to make this the best date you've ever experienced and treat you like the princess you are."

[the-s1lly-corner]

HI there, hate to bother you but i was wondering if you could do the amazing digital circus head canons for a gn! reader who acts a lot like ena

if you have never heard of it you can check on the ena wiki but i would really love if you did something like this so thanks

TADC x ENA type!GN!reader

typically i would do all the characters in one post, but its starting to get late and tumblr wont let me save half answered asks in my drafts for some reason TToTT so im gonna split the cast in half, if you want the rest of the characters you can send in a second ask so i can remember to do everyone else :0! also my apolocheese for any personality mistakes, i think i watched ena a long time ago but was confused/didnt watch the whole thing so uh uh!! relying on a character wiki for this (on that focuses on season 1 so uh uh, idk if that will impact anything) little bonus bonus incorporating enas color thing into this cuz uh we can say its digital world stuff ooo that gives me an oc idea; oc whos like the mayor from nightmare before christmas who has a spinny head/face thing that relates to their emotions

CAINE:

caines is going to be shorter because hes just your number one fan regardless of your personality, in fact he probably has a silly shirt with your face on it somewhere

will do everything in his power to make sure youre happy and content, and will do everything to cheer you up when you switch over to your sad side

takes you to wherever it is that he 'sleeps' when you get overwhelmed by stuff and keeps you there until both of you are sure that youll be okay and your blues are long gone

you and him easily match energies, sometimes he will even try to one up you with using fancy intricate words

POMNI:

writing pomnis part first but oh funny is it that pomni and ena have the same VA

anyways

absolutely loves you, but she is so so worried about stressing you out and switching to your 'sad form', tries to (often times unsuccessfully) cheer you up

honestly you both need a break, things in the circus are hectic and insane, and considering pomni just got here she is going to need your help to get used to things

not much to be said since i think pomni is another character i struggle to write

JAX:

initially teases you for how fast you switch up, its almost like gangle being more upbeat with her comedy mask and more sad when its broken

tones it down a little when you explain you cant really control it whereas gangles case is just her being more confident with the comedy mask (at least thats my hc)

sometimes give you weird looks when you use an unnecessarily long set of fancy words to describe something mundane

bro is fighting the urge to mimic it

surprisingly does the kind thing, he takes you off to the side when something stresses you out so you can have a minute to compose yourself

RAGATHA:

optimistic sweetheart meets ray of sunshine, you two are an unstoppable force of good and kind of rub off on some of the others

similar to jax when you get stressed out or upset about something, usually when its an in house adventure, she sweeps you to the side and helps calm you down. she probably knows some breathing techniques, i think

ignoring the fact they probably dont need to breathe but thats asides the poin

[chigirizzz]

distraction.

synopsis: akito tries to apologize to you, his dear deaf friend, after a miscommunication.

"dialogues in italics" means it's communication through sign language. 1.6k wc

akito thought you were a distraction. not because of your disability—hell no, he wasn’t that type of person—, but because you reminded him of himself. you, who appeared out of a sudden, who was so different yet so identical to the ginger; you were a distraction to him. oh, and because he liked you too.

he screamed dramatically, hands pulling his hair as he stared at the ‘sign language for beginners’ book. school was already hard enough, but this? this was unnecessarily complicated! maybe he was doing something wrong… or maybe it was because his head was constantly replaying the moment you ‘yelled’ at him. anger wasn't the typical color that akito would paint on his mind when thinking of you. he'd paint on his mind soft, warm colors. because that's all you made him feel.

although akito was a very nice person, he could also be extremely stubborn. it was stupid. it was very stupid. he had loved many people but that never stopped him from following his dream. he felt… another type of love when it came to you. the type that made his stomach and heart hurt whenever you weren’t around. the type that would steal his breath whenever you were around.

you were a simple person. a simple person to the world, at least. in fact, some people saw you as kohane’s shadow since you were her cousin (and because she was the only one out of the vbs members who knew sign language; you used a notebook and pen to communicate with them). for the ginger, your beauty as a person was indescribable. no poem or song ever created could translate the feelings he felt upon laying his eyes on you for the first time.

he closed the textbook and laid his hands flat on the desk table so they could rest from practicing sign language. one second passed, two seconds passed. five minutes passed.

“ugh. fuck this shit.”

akito admired you. despite being deaf, you showed a really big passion for music. everytime someone sang at weekend garage you were there, looking at the singer with hearts and stars in your eyes. you’d sit close to the speakers too, in order to feel the vibrations from the music. you’d even try to help the vbs members with songwriting—that’s how akito found out how powerful and beautiful your feelings on paper were.

not only that, but you were the one who was always right there for him. sure, the others were there too, but he found himself feeling safe and sound around the mix of your silence and sympathy. you'd either draw something or write some nice words for him whenever he felt insecure about himself. he admired you. he felt grateful for you. he loved you.

he hated those feelings. he couldn't even focus on music the same way as before. you were a distraction to him. only him, no one else agreed with the boy. you were someone so different yet so similar.

that is also how the argument between you both started. a miscommunication. you found out how the boy thought you were a distraction and you assumed it was because of your disability. you felt hurt and insecure and started screaming at akito in sign language. he was already learning it by himself to surprise you, but you did the hand gestures so fast and with so much anger that he barely understood anything. it was nothing but a miscommunication. akito was mad too, of course. however, he decided to practice sign language even more, just so he could apologize.

his heart started beating fast and his stomach felt like it was being squeezed. was it anxiety? was it hunger? was it anger towards an for texting in the group chat, earlier in that morning, as a joke, about how you couldn’t watch them practice on the weekend because you distracted akito? probably. akito knew his friend didn’t meant any harm, they had always been like that in the presence of each other. but adding you to the joke was unnecessary.

“shut up!” his sister, ena, screamed from her bedroom when he screamed dramatically again.

“you shut up!” there was no point in arguing with one more person but the words came out of his mouth anyway. he scratched his head, thinking of what to do now. boredom was consuming him slowly.

he thought and thought but no idea came. how to think when so many things were on his mind? it felt like white noise to his eardrums.

he needed to clear his mind.

the fresh air of the night kissed his skin, strands of orange hair danced at the same rhythm as the leaves of the trees. his legs took over him. one of his hands was peeling the skin of his lips.

he arrived to weekend garage. dim, yellow lights greeted him as he opened the doors. there was music, someone was singing. he seated by an empty table close to the doors. akito didn't want to be recognized by anyone, especially ken or an. he wanted enjoy the moment and distract himself from his thoughts. it had been a long day.

a few minutes passed and akito started feeling uncomfortable. the urge to sing had awakened inside his veins, making his blood thicker and hotter. but he knew he wasn't mentally prepared that day.

yeah, no, going here wasn't a good idea.

akito was making his way towards the exit when he bumped into someone.

“sorry.” he apologized to the stranger, tone of voice dry. it was then he noticed he bumped into you. “y/n…” eyes wide opened as akito looked at your surprised face—said surprised face that was turning into an angry one. “wait, y/n!” the ginger tried to chase after you but you were too fast. he stood on the outside, eyes watching you run away from him. “fuck…” the night’s air no longer seemed to be kissing him; it was tickling him and making his skin itchy. the music inside the establishment was like it was mocking him.

“akito?” the boy recognized his friend’s voice in a second. an.

“oh. it’s you.”

“i see. i didn’t think my stupid joke could put your friendship in risk.”

“well, it did,” he said. akito noticed the sad facial expression an did and bumped his shoulder against hers lightly. “hey, don’t worry. i’m not mad at you anymore,” he reassured her. “i’ll fix this.”

a smile was back on an’s face. “i want to help!”

“there’s no need.”

“yes there is! without me you’d be nothing!”

“without you this wouldn’t have happened!”

but an was too stubborn and helped akito anyway. he just wasn’t expecting the plan to trick you into going to the roof where he would be waiting for you. convincing them of talking to you won’t work. trust me, is what she told him. whatever. as long it worked.

the boy felt hurt when you tried to leave from his sight again, but this time he convinced you to stay.

the sun in the sky was hot, the air was dry. akito didn’t know if the sweat beginning to form on the back of his neck was due to the weather or due to you being there, looking at him with uninterested eyes.

“so?” you wrote in your notebook. the pen was held by you with a lot of strength, but it still felt like it was almost slipping from your hands due to them being moist. “why are we here? what do you want?” in the few months akito knew you, he never saw you like that. so defensive, so confused. “why am i a distraction to you?”

the last question made the boy feel even more guilty. he ignored how you offered him the pen in order to write what he wanted to say, choosing to speak in sign language. “you were never a distraction to me. i admire you too much to ever think of you like that.”

your eyes widened in surprise seeing the hand gestures. it was not everyday you encountered someone who knew sign language (besides the people in your family).

“you got the wrong idea. an can be an idiot sometimes,” he looked at you, making sure his hand gestures were right. your focus on him was enough to tell him he was going well. “but she didn’t mean any harm. when she texted on the group chat saying you distract me, she meant…”

“she meant?”

“the reality is that you remind me of myself. from your passion to music to your determination, i admire you so much to the point you distract me. you’re all i think about. you’re the air i want to breathe.” he paused for a few seconds, his hands getting tired. “it was never because of your disability and i respect you too much to insult you in any way. why would i even do that?”

you looked at him with shining eyes. “really?”

he nodded. “i want to spend my everydays with you.”

akito waited for your answer, heart beating so fast it shook his eardrums. he gulped; it was the first time your silence felt uncomfortable to him. meanwhile, light in your eyes could be seen due to akito's words. you were no longer angry. you felt bad for thinking that one of your closest friends could ever betray you.

akito saw you moving towards him, just so you could wrap your arms gently around his torso. he wasn't much of hugs, but for you he'd do anything. he hugged you back, eyes closed as he listened to the sounds of the world around you both.

perhaps he could use sign language to confess to you too.

tags: @kitorin

[jester089]

I have a request for the tdac characters to fall in love with child reader(platonically) and basically be attached to them like their younger sibling figure, and now imagine the reader starts to slowly get insane in some way and abstracts, and they just watch in horror as they see their practically younger sibling abstract and taken away to the black hole(I forgot what its called), and they get out of character, I need some angst and out of character mfs

So young

Now I have done multiple things on this type of idea so it's probs gonna be really similar to some of my past works. I'll still do my best though. For future reference in requesting please specify if you want a oneshot or headcannons. I did a little of both for this one but it was tiring, so please specify.

TADC Crew x Child Reader Who Abstracts

You were by far the youngest in the Digital Circus. Out of everyone you actually enjoyed it there, it was colorful, safe, had plenty of things to do. And had people who actually cared about you. It was a place of respite for you after you're awful family. Well awful isn't the right word they weren't abusive or anything. Just neglectful. Caine was a lot like a weird uncle to you. Always had some kind of gift for you when he saw you and despite what he says you know he cares about you. You were just about the only person who genuinely enjoyed his little adventures and jokes so he ended up getting kind of attached to you. As much as an AI could at least.

Gangle more often then not wasn't around you. She didn't avoid you or anything but she didn't go out of her way to be around you. One time when her mask broke and you saw her crying you went to Caine to ask if she was ok. He explained as best he could to you that she isn't really sad, just her mask broke. So you asked Caine to help you fix it. A few hours later you're at Gangle's door with a fixed mask in a present box. Once she saw that you of all people, the youngest one here went out of your way to help her she started to warm up to you.

Zooble most definitely didn't enjoy being around you Lies. She always acted like you annoyed her and she wanted to be anywhere else. But the few times you two have been alone she's surprisingly nice. She taught you how to make a paper hat one time then for the next few weeks you were never seen without one on.

Kinger took on a much more loving approach with you. He saw you as young and in danger and with no one to guide you. And if you were just left alone Jax would probably swoop in like a vulture and corrupt you. So he half took you in and did his best to raise you and teach you. It was hard as their isn't anything for learning in the circus but he did his best. It annoys him to no end when he hears a censored word come from you only to learn that Zooble's been teaching you swears behind his back.

Ragatha did her best with Kinger to raise you so you had some kind of future ahead of yourself. Despite the fact that they no one ages they still want you to be prepared. She took on a very "over protective older sister" kind of way with you. You're young, weak, and gullible so she's constantly worrying about you. Enough for her to set up a bed for you in her room. Plus side is she'll read you bedtime stories.

Jax's sole goal since he found out Kinger and Ragatha were teaching you and keeping you away from him is to taint you. Whenever you're left alone he kind of just appears and offers you something fun to do with him so you'll follow him. He has fed so many lies to your malleable young brain. Like "Hey kid. Did'ja know that Ragatha loves centipedes? I actually caught one earlier today. Why don'cha give it to er?" so naturally you did. You got grounded for that. Pomni is the one you feel closest too. You're innocent and kind nature help her keep calm(er). And her being around your height makes you feel more comfortable around her so you're always seen dragging her around to do something silly. You help her look for the exit, kind of. Your different way of seeing the world has helped her find many things out though. Did you know that their's a secret building at the bottom of the the digital lake? She only found it cause you mentioned said something about Atlantis while swimming then proceeded to dive under the water scaring her.

All of them started to get worried when your usual energetic and optimistic self started to act tired, all the time. Even someone as at your age who seems to be the perfect fit isn't immune to the problems the circus has it seems. When you started to get depressed it freaked Ragatha out causing her to be more strict with you because she didn't want to see you hurt. That only made it worse though. None of them take you abstracting well. Even Jax, despite being a jerk he ended up getting kind of attached to you. Cause no matter how mean he was you were always nice to him. "Wonder if their still causing chaos in the afterlife..." Caine being the ring master was always trying to cheer everyone up and get their mind off you but it never really worked. It slightly affected him too, not because he was attached to you. But because you were so young... "Couldn't even keep a kid alive..." Ragatha after losing you would either lock herself in her room staring at your old bed trying to decide on if she should or shouldn't take it down. It the only thing she has left to remember you by. You had your whole life ahead of you. But she ended up not being able to help. Just like with all those others... "Is it even worth the effort at this point. Am I even helping..." Kinger had already lost Queenie his S/O... Now you, the one he was actually starting to see as his kid. That is what pushed him over the deep end. You two his family, both abstracted. At least he'll get too see you two again... "I'll be there soon love, just have to grab Y/N's books..."

(Idk if this is good or at all what you wanted. But I tried. Hope you enjoyed it. Also if you all could please check my request rules before requesting. It would make my life much easier. Thanks. Also I kinda wanna re-write this without the abstraction part.)

xoxo, Jester

[adventuringblind]

Wish Come True

Landoscar x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Lando and Oscar are there to reassure their favorite person that they matter

Dialouge prompt: "I wished for you."

Warnings: anxiety, panic attacks

Notes: This is part of my 1000 followers celebration. I'm still taking submissions for it!

Masterlist

It's normal for people to get anxious. It's normal for the human mind to overthink and delve into every possibility.

It is not normal, however, to analyze every reason why one's partners should leave them. In the world of Formula 1, everyone is looking and judging all the time. It's hard to escape. The people give her reasons to think about why she deserves such partners.

It's terrifying how in her head she is able to get. How fast she sinks into her thoughts. The cold floor of the bathroom is the last thing grounding her to the real world. Her hands rake through her hair as her chest labors for oxegyne.

Oscar and Lando. The two boys who stole her heart. With their stupidly fast cars and endearing gazes.

They found her, tucked away in a McLaren office. Her job not normally one that needs their input. The one time she did, they seemed to decide right then they weren't going to let her secluded herself in her office anymore.

They reassure her constantly. Lando with spurattic physical contact and Oscar with a never-ending supply of compliments. They tell her not to listen to the people. A task she fails at constantly.

They have their claws dug into her mind. They tug, and they pull her in direction she doesn't want to go. Which begs the question, is she cut out for this life? In reality, she really just might not have what it takes to date, not one, but two formula 1 drivers.

There is a soft and familiar knock at the door. She knows who it is. Qualifying ended hours ago. She's been closed up in the hotel room for longer.

"Love? Are you in there? Me and Osc are worried about you." Lando's concern breaches her ears, and she doesn't know what to do. It sends her spiraling further.

The door clicks open. Two sets of footsteps hit against the tile floor. There is a softens to their actions she can't fully explain. Like they know how to approach her with the intent of comfort and how to make it known via every movement.

Their bodies slide down the wall on either side of her. Their orange hoodies are a stark contrast to the white colored walls and tile. They smell freshly showered, and it hits her hard that they were probably together all afternoon.

They don't need her. It's a true fact that nobody should be one hundred percent reliant on another person. But the thoughts creep back into her skin that they don't have a reason to want her either.

"What's going on in your head, hm?" Her body is leaned into Oscar's, head now resting on his shoulder. Lando finds her hand and stops her from causing any harm to herself in her state of panic.

"I'm not enough for you two."

"Now who put that idea in your head? Because we're lyng."

"I put it there. I'm not cut out for this, I don't think. You have so many better options that I can't understand why I would be your first choice." It comes out more choked than she would've hoped.

"But we wished for you. Did you know that?"

Shock flood through her veins. "What do you mean? Like on a shooting star or something?"

Oscar snorts. "He's being sappy. What he means is that when we were talking about our feelings for you, turned out we both had very similar preferences."

"Yeah, the criteria was you. I swear it's like the universe knew!" Lando starts talking with his hands in animated motions. It makes the other two chuckle.

"All that to say, you're perfect the way you are. It's an overused statement, but I don't care because it's true."

Lando's mouth falls open in offense. "So you're allowed to be corny, and I'm not? This is a double standard, mate!"

So maybe it took her boyfriends arguing over what is an appropriate amount of sap for these situations. But at least she knows how much they love her.

(If the terrible pick-up lines they were using on her didn't solidify this fact, she doesn't know what would.)

[shadowingfas]

Ok, here's an actual theory.

Spoilers for the 2.1 ending ahead ⚠️⚠️⚠️

Continue at your own risk!⚠️⚠️

Trailblazer is from Penacony.

Who else has a watch?

Boom!

Misha!

Suspicious…

Considering we don’t know a thing about him.

Who else do we not know a thing about? Trailblazer. Sure, we know about the Stellaron hunters; but nothing beyond that.

I'll go ahead and recommend this specific video. gallagher is a memory zone meme (AND MORE !!!) // HONKAI STAR RAIL THEORY VIDEO ESSAY (youtube.com) Seeing as it's an interesting theory and is a good video! Doesn't necessarily have anything to do with my theory. Could! could not. idk lmao

Everybody knows about Gallagher at this point. So, I’ll just be straight up. Gallagher took traits from the family to create a good disguise, right? Well, let’s just take a look at something real quick.

They look similar, no? not one on one, but similar. Minus the bangs. the front has a similar look to Stelle and the back? To Caelus. Hell, even Stelle's back hair is still slightly similar to his.

The rest? most likely similarities to the other family members. Grey hair and Gold eyes? Maybe the Oak family. 🤔

Other similarities? the straight face. Even. their. humor.

No one is surprised at Stelle at this point (youtube.com)

Gallagher is 13!? | Honkai Star Rail (youtube.com)

Besides that, the theory that nobody besides us can see Misha? I think is true. Gallagher also has a voice line about Misha. I don't even think Acheron has a voice line about Misha. Which means Gallagher can also see Misha.

Then why can Gallagher also see Misha? I believe that he truly is a child of the watchmaker. Made by the watchmaker himself... You can see where I'm going with this right?

I believe Trailblazer is made by the watchmaker and that Penacony is their true home. Whether which trailblazer is cannon doesn't matter. At least I don't think it does, because I think both trailblazers are cannon.

Also. Misha has an express badge while Gallagher doesn't from what I see. Which I think is from the fact that he 'betrayed' the watchmaker somehow. Only the watchmaker's most 'loyal' creations get one.

Because from what I remember. Didn't Trailblazer have this since the beginning of the game? Even when they weren't part of the Astral Express; and Misha... who's said to WANT to go out and explore, but never has. Has one as well? Based on the light cone that has Misha in it receiving one that kinda looks like Trailblazers. I believe so.

Maybe Mishsa's new Badge color is because Gallagher gave him his? Maybe the color changes based on who gets it? or maybe Misha gave Gallagher his original one, but Mister Dog-Man refuses to wear it? idk. I'm just making shots in the dark on this one, but maybe it's true? After all, Gallagher has said he feels he betrayed the watchmaker by doing nothing.

Also by the end of the story of 2.1; didn't Acheron and Aventurine also say that they had found out who 'Miss Stellaron's' and 'Mister Stellaron's' identity was? Bold thing to say considering nobody else knows by now. I think this theory shows what they possibly know.

[One coincidence that I also think is neat. Both trailblazers have gloves. Just like most of the people on penacony. (This one's not that important just thought it was a neat coincidence :))]

[buccini555]

— 𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬!

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊ Headcanons of what it would be like to have Izana Kurokawa and Kakucho Hitto as best friends

૮꒰˵• ﻌ •˵꒱ა H e a d c a n o n s !

⁀➴ 𝑭𝒕. Izana Kurokawa and Kakucho Hitto

⋆ ˚｡⋆ Both are extremely protective, they would never let anyone hurt you, in addition, they always go with you everywhere possible, since they are always together, they always try to take different walks, Izana likes to go shopping and spending hours in random stores while testing Kakucho's patience.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ They don't feel jealous of each other, despite that, with other people, they are extremely jealous of your friendship, you are extremely close and that makes them worry about the importance of your friendship, since they don't want to that you never leave or something like that.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ Kakucho is undoubtedly the most affectionate and attached, Izana has more difficulty showing feelings, but he usually shows the love he feels through protection and solidarity, Kakucho likes affection, supports you in absolutely everything and tries to give you good advice.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ When you are sad or going through a bad time, the boys are always by your side trying to cheer you up, Izana and Kakucho hate to see you sad, since you are like a little ray of sunshine for them, the only thing that brings them peace of mind amidst all that gang stuff.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ They keep you away from gangs or the like, despite that, Izana always taught you how to fend for yourself, they would never allow or forgive themselves if something happened to their best friend.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ Izana and Kakuco use a photo of the three of them as the wallpaper on their cell phones, in addition, you have several videos, photos and funny stickers of each other, Izana once put a photo of you when she was a child as a profile photo only because I think it's so cute.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ You try to use similar color palettes, Izana is very concerned about his look, so he helps you and Kakucho dress the way he sees fit, for that reason, whenever you go out, it looks like you're going to a fashion show and Izana is proud of it.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ You go to parties, random outings or just spend hours at home watching movies or reading, Kakucho is a little scared of horror movies, but you and Izana make him watch, his scares make you laugh a lot.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ Izana LOVES showing you his goldfish, he spends hours in front of the aquarium talking about the goldfish and you and Kakuco think it's extremely cute, plus Izana tried to teach you how to play the guitar but Kakucho failed miserably and you at least tried.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ Kakucho loves to take care of you, he is the most responsible of the group, preventing you and Izana from getting into trouble, he is super protective, always being as affectionate as possible.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ Your friendship can be a little "colorful" sometimes, especially with Izana, you've kissed a few times and like to flirt just for fun, he also does that with Kakucho, they both like that fact, Kakucho always is the shyest one, he likes to have you close to him, but he never has the courage to ask you for something that went beyond friendship, but sometimes you end up relating to each other.

[jacevelaryonswife]

Golden and Silver, my new colors | part eight

In the following days a thick cloud hovered entirely over Aemond and you, unlike the old and strange tension between the two of you, this one was full of warmth and desire.

∴pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Wife!reader

∴warnings and a note: fluffy, comfort and smut. I will signal the moment where the NSFW part begins in the story with the use of a bold phrase, for those who do not like the content jumpes. English is not my first language. 3,7k of words

golden and silver masterlist

In the following days a thick cloud hovered entirely over Aemond and you, so visible and dense that it could be cut by a sword. Unlike the old and strange tension between the two of you, this one was full of heat, desire and a pleasant tingling that ran through your bodies from head to toe. All these factors originated from the day of the flight in Vhagar. All you could think of was the tenderness and affection of the kiss shared between you in that beautiful sunset, in all the things he said, in all the promises made, in all the exposed vulnerability. All you thought about was him and how your heart warmed when he woke up next to your every day; touch the soft silver threads and sink into the warmth of his body.

And such feelings weren’t strange or divergent from those that one-eyed prince felt. He needed to be by your side every day and hold you close, keep you close, smell you and the softness of your skin, listen to your sharp and soft words, smile at your clever and shrewd comments, or just remain silent enjoying each other’s company.

And also, he wanted you in a more lascivious way that burned his veins when he smelled your and thought about you, or every time your leg and ass bumped into his crotch on the bed and left him impossibly and indecently erect down there. It was true that marital intimacy was never peppered or exploited among you, in fact, the moment in bed was as uncomfortable and torturous as the lack of dialogue. It became bearable after some time, although still strange and nothing similar to what your friends or Aegon (in the case of your husband) reported about the euphoria of copulating.

Both didn’t have enough knowledge about the art of pleasure and weren’y the most apt to act naturally on the subject, but it didn’t mean that the thought about copulating didn’t surround your heads.

Unfortunately the tiredness caused by the pregnancy took the best of you, but the tingling in the center of the thighs didn’t stop when you lay next to him to sleep, or when he looked at you intensely, or when he touched any part of your body...

It seemed like an inappropriate behavior in your condition, especially when the nature of the sensation was as lascivious as the one you felt. The changes that your body suffered were also not encouraging to indulge in carnal pleasure, in your vision, feeling insecure about weight gain and marks that were not there before — at least your breasts were amazing. On the other hand, Aemond was very patient in waiting for your time, although he also nurtured the same hunger for intimacy as you, reaching the however, he didn’t know about your internal questions and for this (and to relieve the tension in his pants) he began to feed relaxed dialogues with you throughout the day, for example:

“I would like to ask something,” he began to capture your attention during breakfast, “what happened to the green dresses? I liked them.”

Oops.

“I gave them mostly, I never liked green actually,” you replied relaxed.

After a moment in silence Aemond just grumbled a quick “Hm”. “What about the black ones with blue details? They were beautiful...”

You knew it! It was obvious that he had been affected by seeing you using your colors and sapphires. It was a low blow. “I still have some,” your tone was falsely innocent, but your tongue decided to be sharper to follow: “maybe if you continue to be a good husband I can use it along with the sapphires,” you hit your eyelashes more slowly than usual.

Seven hells, he thought as his throat dried out.

Yes, you could wear some of them again even if you loved the luxury and glamour of your new dresses (especially the silver one with some shiny stones you wore at the time).

“I would like it very much,” was all he was able to answer.

Later that same day you surprised him again, unfortunately negatively.

“Well... I always wanted to meet Vhagar for what she means to you, a great achievement and pride, but I’ve never been very interested in dragons actually,” you confessed while eating some white grape berries, watching the disappointment on your husband’s face.

“... really?” He asked.

“Does that disappoint you?” You showed a small humorous smile.

“A little,” he replied uncertainly. That pierced his heart like a stab and it took a long time to pull himself together. “Considerably.”

“I imagined,” you went back to reading the book silently, counting on a not very discreet smile on your lips that got bigger every second. Something about his unhappy pout was quite funny and charming, but it made him understand differently than you thought.

“Were you lying?” He asked hopeful.

“No, I wasn’t, it’s just that you look visually adorable when you get frustrated,” your open smile slowed down to superficially kiss his lips.

Somehow his mouth became more swollen in a small frown as he wondered the reason for your rejection against dragons.

“I don’t reject them, I just don’t have the same enchantment for them,” you smiled.

“Hm. You seemed very enchanted by Vhagar.” He said grumpy.

And after a short clash on the subject, you ended the situation with another chaste kiss on your husband

Kisses became common among you at any time of the day, but especially at night when you were getting ready for bed, from the sweetest and kindest to the hottest, demanding, time-consuming and repetitive, accumulating excessive heat in both of you. After a few days the heat between your legs became too much to bear, but your self-esteem and morality were established as annoying obstacles on the... subject. Turning to your mother about such point was out of the question, so you thought immediately recommended your friends. Of course! Drusilla was once a mother and her reports about marital activity are more than spicy, there will be no better advice than hers!

But then the prince noticed beyond your stillness during dinner and decided to ask why. Yes, I’m fine, you answered without much detail initially, but your husband didn’t have a weak perception, no, quite the opposite, he knew that something was around your mind and just waited for you to tell him. It wasn’t an initial option to tell him what was going through your head, especially when your thoughts were so indecent, but look: he was to blame!

After all this started because of him, nothing fairer for him to solve such an implication, so at the end of dinner you decided to open the game: “I’ve been thinking about our conversation about intimacy these days. And I want, I want you, Aemond,” you said. “But I’m uncertain about the act. It seems wrong to do this when carrying a baby, and my body is not totally appropriate for it... I don’t feel so beautiful.”

Gods be good.

“My love...” escaped naturally, making your eyes widen and your mouth half-open. He... he called you love, his love, his love for the first time. Your breath was stuck for a few seconds before it was released heavily. He realized that. He realized what he had said. Did it mean that he loved you? “My love.” He repeated it as easily as before.

Did he love you? If not, what was that feeling that filled him when he held your hand? What was the fire in his heart when your lips caressed each other? When did your eyes meet? When did the sound of your voice involve you?

“You look more beautiful than before, much more than possible. There is nothing that could displease me about your appearance, you’re ethereal.”

The strong beats of your heart preceded the accumulation of tears in your eyes. No one had ever said such beautiful words about you before...

No one but your mother has ever called you my love. Was that what you were? His love?

“Aemond...” you whispered as his big hands wrapped around your face.

“Don’t cry. Everything what I said is true.” He comforted you calmly.

“Do you love me?” You asked.

“...I don’t know. A part of me thinks that developing love for someone requires more time and effort than I offered you. The other one, on the other hand, sees no problem in announcing you as my love, it seems right, too right.” And it warms my chest, he thought.

“I understand,” you said low, which confused the prince’s perception.

Were you disappointed? Or was it mortally understanding? Or was his understanding forged longer than he could have imagined?

“Does that displease you?” He asked, receiving a slightly confused and serious look — just like his.

“No, husband, I appreciate your sincerity,” you replied as you shook his hand over the table.

“That’s not what I asked.” He insisted.

No, that didn’t displease you. “For a long time I wished you to return my affections, I didn’t love you, but... I don’t know, the fact that we were married made me make an effort about us,” you began, “After this mutual time of initial steps in our relationship, I feel many things about you, I always felt them in fact, but now they are mostly positive. I like being with you, I really like it, it does me a lot of good, I don’t believe that we can develop love for each other.”

He always admired the way you couldn’t hide what was in your heart, it was one of the things he loved most about you. “I also believe in that,” he said, “I know it won’t take long for us to love each other,” because I’m already in love with you, “because I believe that the things I feel for you are strong enough for that. Everything about you... I feel stupid for not having seen this before, I saw you.” He kissed your hand before get up from the chair, standing in front of you with an intense look and stronger breathing. “Come with me.”

You accompanied him slowly to the bed, stopping nervously in front of him, feeling the sweet aroma of the wine from the proximity of your faces. He held both sides of your cheek and leaned over for a soft and chaste kiss, just the soft encounter of lips. Your hands went to the back of his neck, over his hair, holding it close as you learned to like it. He walked away long seconds later, gathering the courage to say the next words.

"I know that when we shared the bed before it wasn't profitable for you, but I intend to do things differently this time."

As a studied and competitive man, Aemond ventured one day through the library in the inadequate body anatomy session after hearing a provocation from Aegon about not being able to make his little wife cum. He became a real beast, how did that abused drunk dare to put his ability to the test?

Yes, it was not a lie, and yes, the one-eyed prince hated being underestimated — at that time you were in the third month of marriage and he wasn’t the shadow of the current man. Something about intimacy intimidated him, maybe the fact that the connection was too intimate, or his own annoyance when thinking about what you would think of the eye patch You had never mentioned that until the day of the conversation in Vhagar, although so subtly and superficial and although you were still afraid to fully show yourself to you, Aemond didn’t want to continue maintaining the previous posture.

"Make love to me, husband," you whispered slyly, almost purring, making you hold your back with mannered force.

“I will,” he said in a hoarse voice.

He held your jaw and leaned over for an intense kiss, full of moisture and movement. Even you wanted to get lost in his lips, a very conscious part of your mind exclaimed what was to come, and you asked (beg) the seven to be good. What an indecency.

Aemond traced the skin of your neck with his thumb before moving away from your sweet lips to kiss your neck firmly, making you close your eyes and sigh in his arms.

"Do you like that?" He asked close to his skin

“Yes,” you replied in an airy voice.

Hmm.

Although the reading wasn’t recent, the prince didn’t forget the parties responsible for stimulating the ladies during copulation, and he wanted to practice more than anything. "Good," he murmured, "I want to do this the right way," he said, looking intensely into his eyes now, touching his face on yours, "can I take off your dress?"

Gods be good.

You swallowed nervously with the idea of displaying your body to him, even with the kind words uttered earlier. Still, you gave in to the desire for bodily contact that had been chasing you for long days. “Yes.”

The initiative had come from him, but your husband's lack of dexterity made you help him remove the noble fabric to expose your naked body. Not wanting to give him enough time to look at yourself too much, you hurried to remove his leather tunic that hide his deliciously defined abdomen. Seven hells!

You touched each other almost at the same time, with your hands groping his chest while his groped and massaged your breasts gently, but with a certain pressure, causing chills in your body. He noticed that in addition to your round belly your breasts were fuller than before, which made him delight while massaging. Oh! How good it felt! How firm and soft he was under your fingers! Your urge to plant wet kisses on his chest was faster than your mental response and you loved every second.

Aemond squeezed your ass almost coarsely and made you sigh before walking away grudgingly to hastily remove the shoes and pants from his body, exposing his colossal deity in the form of a man. He was magnificent, perfect, ethereal... and all yours.

This time the kiss was demanding and steaming, full of tongue, touches and bodies touching each other. You held one side of his face and wrapped your arm around his neck, as he held the deep part of your back and your ass, massaging the prominent flesh as his member hardened against your belly, sending a feeling that began to moisten the center of your thighs. You didn't know if it was appropriate to look down, but you did it anyway, seeing the drains and silver hair accumulated in his groin, and you weren't just what you saw... or touched.

The one-eyed prince almost squealed when his cock was caressed with an open hand, closing the good eye automatically.

“Did you like it?"

“Yes,” he murmured hoarsely when you smoothed it again, holding your hand to wrap it properly and move it from base to tip. "Just like that..." your hand was much better than his at the moment of pleasure, and the low sound that Aemond released was more erotic than every time you fucked. "Lye in bed."

And you lay down, spreading your legs to him with your hands close to your breasts. Fucking beautiful. He rose above you like a damn heavenly predator, with his hair perfectly aligned behind his back and hands spreading his thighs more. For him, you've never been as tempting as there. He needed you.

He leaned over to kiss you again, full of tongue and malice, not content to stop only on your lips. Your jaw and neck were the next ones he attacked with wet and hungry kisses, making you melt pleasantly. And then, his lips focused on the halo of your left breast, causing a surprised and sharp moan of your. Seven hells! He sucked your breasts eagerly, leaving them hard and wet — the last consequence also served for your flower. And by the way, you almost squeaked when you felt fingers crawling in your center. He loved the reaction, and loved feeling that you were prepared. Aemond didn’t remember where exactly, but he knew that there was an external point in your feminility (he would never say the word cunt) that was pleasurable for you.

"Are yo-"

"Continue husband, don't stop." He kept smoothing your pussy in a sloppy way until you lost your patience and guided your hand to where you touched a few times in the dead of night. “Here,” and oh! His fingers were so much better than yours, warmer and bigger on your pearl, and mm, so good. And then, that pleasurable tingling was building and building himself and you happily delighted and instigated him to rub harder until your whole body relaxed deliciously. Fucking hell. Aemond was so mesmerized by the scene that he could only look between your face and pussy. But you weren't totally satisfied yet, neither was he.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Yes, you don't have to be worried."

Although he wanted to be totally pressed against your body, your husband didn’t want to exert weight against your belly, so he positioned himself straight on your open and raised legs. He was nervous and excited, but took a deep breath when he held his cock and lined up against your entrance, holding your calf to stand firm.

Your breath engaged and you moaned with the unparalleled feeling of being filled, aggressively holding the sheet at each stretch that Aemond penetrated until it was totally inside. It was as if the air had been stolen from both of you for a while, but he made an effort not to demonstrate vocally.

“May I-“

“Move,” you instructed him, watching him hold on to your knees before pulling a little and pushing with a soft roll of hips. “Oh!” Oh dear, you've never felt so good before. It was an indescribable and scorching pleasure that consumed you with every perforation of your husband's sword. “Aemond,” you moaned out of breath, holding him between your legs.

The prince moaned low and hoarse, increasing the speed of his hips and keeping them constant, squeezing the flesh of your thighs firmly. It wasn't too early for you to define that that was the best sex you had, the thought making you squeeze around him, which partially stole the air from his lungs and almost made him cum. Aemond lowered his head and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to recompose himself while not faltering in his impulses. He wanted to postpone as much as he could before filling you with his seed again — the last thought excited him too much.

Being deep inside you, he rubbed his pelvis against yours, putting pressure on your pear and brushing places you never imagined.

“Give me more, husband,” you couldn't keep eye contact for a long time, letting yourself burn next to him.

The concentration almost overshadowed the pride he felt when he saw your breathless and needy state. Aemond was not vocal at all, but the small noises and moans he let out were enough to make you even more heated. The truth was that none of you would last long if his movements continued deep and infernally fluid, or if he continued to alternate his gaze fixedly between your eyes and where your bodies connected.

Even your pregnancy was in a little over two months and your belly wasn’t big enough to generate discomfort, Aemond would not like you to make an effort, however, he would love for you to see you riding him. Realizing how your body reacted when he hit a different angle, Aemond repeated the action for a short time until you were moaning his name loudly and squeezed him with full force.

It was too much for him.

He came with a sensual and hoarse sound, louder than the previous moans.

A particular impulse reached a point that made you tremble from head to toe, squeezing even more against his cock.

“Seven hells,” he grunted.

In tour hot and white euphoria, you didn't notice him lying down totally panting and with a warm hand over your belly. It was much better than you could imagine.

"So this is the fire of dragon?" You asked playfully.

He chuckles. "I suppose so."

—————————————

This may be the penultimate or antepenultimate chapter, I don’t know yet :)

[regallibellbright]

I think it’d be really, really funny if the Civilians of Twilight Town keep trying to guess what Roxas, Xion, Lea, and Isa’s deal is, trying to fit them into SOME sort of even remotely traditional family structure and end up with, like, six different competing rumors even before the polite blonde girl who divides her time between “the old abandoned mansion, which they guess she owns?” and “nowhere in the area.”

And then the visiting scientist.

And the other visiting scientist.

And the scientists’ apparent son (other son?), who spends his entire trip talking with Pence about something they’ve clearly been collaborating on for at least a year despite the fact that no one’s ever seen him before.

Xion introduces a boy who looks nothing like her, currently lives with his family (not, she specifies, her family,) and has no relationship with Roxas or Lea whatsoever. Apparently they’re both the children (okay, he says creations, but Even’s an odd one) of one of the scientists. Technically, they say. They look nothing alike. They’re pretty sure he doesn’t live with the scientist, either. He does know Namine (presumed to be the scientists’ mutual daughter) but they say they’re not siblings point blank. Someone crosses Xion and Namine being sisters off a whiteboard, then considers and puts a question mark there.

Roxas’s incredibly obvious identical twin shows up and they claim to be half-brothers. Roxas will skateboard away from all followup questions. On another trip, he’ll bring a third boy who introduces himself as “the other half of (Ven’s) heart” and then immediately refers to Roxas, Xion, and Ven (but not Lea or the other boy, who nonetheless knows him) as his siblings. He claims to have been born at the dawn of time and just after the worlds shattered and also sixteen years ago. (Vanitas knows exactly what he is doing and is THRIVING off the chaos.)

Based off similar hair colors, her apparent dislike of Lea, and sheer desperation, half the town is convinced that Aqua and Isa are siblings and she sided with him during the breakup. There’s no consensus about how Terra fits into this. (Isa’s not correcting them. About any of this. It’s not worth it.)

Seifer gets back from a journey of self-discovery and asks who the newbies are and gets shown eight different, mutually-contradictory conspiracy boards in the form of family tree/relationship charts. Lauriam and Elrena have been the source of multiple schisms among the gossip mill.

By the time Sora shows up again even Hayner, Pence and Olette are having trouble keeping everything straight, and they actually know the whole story.

[chumpovodir]

i don't have it in me at the moment to make a long, detailed rant about this but r/castlevania's insistence that games!Isaac is a lesser character for being a "self-harm obsessed, shallow BDSM playboy that only serves as an inciting incident" compared to N!Isaac?

first of all, i think y'all are letting anime stereotypes from the early 2000s massively color your opinion and it's really obvious you didn't bother looking at his character any deeper than that. edit: i'm putting this under a cut because it was actually, in hindsight, a pretty long post lmao

"BDSM playboy"? my man was sitting in the ruins of his home for 3 goddamn years letting the clothes rot off his back, in no condition to care about his appearance and with precious little materials to forge something new. you could also argue that his skimpy look is a mark of his arrogance (already well-established by his fight with Hector previously, and feeling so cocksure he sends his Devil away and even arms Hector with a sword, confident he could easily take him in a fair fight), going into battle barely clothed as a show of faith in his own skill after playing Hector like a fiddle. or even as a radical show of his devotion, the Devil Forgemasters crest embedded in his skin for the world to see; the fact that the physical marks of his position may fade away, but it goes so much deeper than that - it's seared into his very flesh, and will only die when he and his corporeal form finally leave this earth. also, it just speaks to a really shallow understanding of BDSM in general to associate "skimpy strappy outfit = kinky"

"self-harm obsessed"? first of all, where is ANYONE getting this notion from the game itself?? (considering there's a very low chance these people even know about the mangas) there is literally no scene in-game where he self-harms - further proof people are grafting a grab bag of stereotyped character traits onto him when the canon doesn't support it. if this is about his tattoos, i consider this a bit of a reach, but then i don't regularly associate tattoos with masochism.

there is of course this one, singular panel from Prelude to Revenge where we see him slitting his wrists:

but the context here makes it clear: 1) he's doing this as a morbid way to mark the passage of time and 2) most likely in response to the sheer contrast between him and Hector's respective situations - how would you feel seeing the guy who was at least partially responsible for your predicament living a happy life, while you're forced to live in the abandoned ruins of your home, constantly surrounded by all that you've lost? this is an act being shown when he's at his very lowest.

and this is the only instance we actually see - there is no other official material that implies this is something he does on the regular, although it's a popular headcanon considering the general fandom consensus that he most likely had a very rough start to life.

shitting on him for being "merely an inciting incident"? i don't even know what to say to this - do you understand how characters and stories work...? the narrative lives and dies on the push and pull of characters taking actions and other characters responding!

but it sure is curious (read: hypocritical) that this is a negative in these people's eyes when you point out the similarities between Lisa's and Rosaly's deaths.

sure, there is a bigger story about the cruelty of humanity as a whole that Lisa was executed, unprompted while Rosaly's execution was deliberately manipulated by Isaac - but that also adds to Isaac's character, the fact that both he and his younger sister were persecuted for being bonafide magic practitioners, and the sheer hypocrisy of and underhandedness of knowing that pain firsthand, and choosing to inflict it on an innocent woman anyway. it really shows how much his morals, if he ever had any, has truly eroded to the point he only cares about causing maximum damage.

i don't even want to waste my words on the ways N!Isaac is a worse character, comparatively, if you actually take into account the themes of the Devil Forgemasters' respective stories as presented in the games. but it does chap my asshole that, from this angle, both N!Isaac and N!Hector end up for the worse since now their stories are completely decoupled and it ruins the symbolism and duality that their game counterparts had.

[empressgeekt]

Trolls- headcanon, Creek and Branch are Cousins and Rosiepuff was both their grandmother...

okay. This randomly came to me, and I have to write this down. On mobile sorry for issues.

So, I was scrolling through Tumblr and saw fanart of acdepressed creek, and I though, "hey he kind of looks like Floyd's old concept design". Don't look up that design it's horrifying, but originally Floyd was supposed to look like Grandma Rosiepuff. Then things started to spiral. F9r two characters who seemingly have nothing to do with each other, Rosiepuff and Creek look awfully similar to one another. Same skin tone, and they both have minty green in their hair. In fact one could argue that Creek resembles her more then her own canon grandchildren. BROZONE all have cool colors and John, Clay, spruce, and branch all have blur eyes like her, while Floyd has a smaller similar nose shape. But that's the extent of it.

What if Rosiepuff had two surviving children, instead of the one who had brozone? And Creek was born of that second child.

I don't know what other people think but alot of the jab Creek makes towards Branch feel very personal. Sure pre trolls one Branch was not liked by the community, but Creek despises Branch personally. He tells Poppy that Branch doesn't want to be happy. Confronts Branch head on while the others passively complain. He even calls out the vest and that is a deep cut to Branch as we all know...but how would Creek know? Unless they share more of history then we think.

There are number of ways that's this could've played out, be it Creek's parent having a falling out with Rosiepuff before he's born, or maybe they didn't want anything to do with the band, but the two sides of the family clearly don't talk. Evident by Rosiepuff raising Branch alone, and never once is an aunt/uncle mentioned. However it wouldn't be too hard to believe that Creek knows about Rosiepuff, her death, and blames Branch for it. Heck he could've been taught that by his parent, The possible child of Rosiepuff's. And now in turn hates Branch.

This could even be supported by the amount of similar traits Creek has with Brozone. For starters, both Creek and at least two of the brothers (branch and clay) are planners. Branch and clay are prepping for the worst, but Creek is always planning how to control situations he finds himself in. Their uses are different, and as are the strategies, but the principle still stands. Creek also has a high emotional intelligence, like Floyd. He'd have to in order to manipulate people the way he does. A level head under pressure could also be a shared trait, Creek only really panics when he's in immediate danger, being eaten or when he and chef were one fire, otherwise he's very collected. He's the one telling everyone in the bird cage to remain calm after all.

But if they are related the why didn't JD or any of the others ask about him when Brozone reunited? Well, simply they didn't know about him. Creek is either the same age or younger then Branch, and if the two sides of the family weren't on speaking terms in the first place then its a slim chance they would be told about a baby cousin. And I have a hard time seeing Creeks family taking Branch in afte the accident and he went grey. So if branch knows about their relation, he's probably so detached that he doesn't consider them family. Not to mention the whole betrayl thing...

So thought? Was my brain on to something? Or is this just rambling.

[dangermousie]

I am barely into my reread of 2ha but:

1. I am reading the Russian translation and WOW! The English translation is excellent but the Russian one is beyond - it has footnotes explaining all the slang (a lot of it!) and character combo puns, and name meanings etc. I love it. The footnotes are as long as the chapters :) Also, I have learned that apparently male duck = slang for a man living off sexual favors. Heh.

2. On a more serious note, it caught my attention that before taking poison, Taxian Jun transported all the remaining servants away. He did not murder them all as a last hurrah, or even leave them there on the peak to be possibly murdered by the invading army. TXJ is, by that point, a thoroughly mad monster who’s killed an untold amount of people but it’s these little bits that “don’t fit” that on reread go “hmmm” - like his innate humanity occasionally seeping through the cracks of the insanity and hatred prison the flower put him into.

2. Taxian Jun wakes up as Mo Ran, catalogues Rong Jiu next to him - his delicate, “girlish” looks and is repulsed. That is before he thinks about how RJ betrayed him; in fact his “ugh” is based solely on looks at this point - he remembers how in his past life he used to love those looks but now he’s wondering why and is feeling repulsed. That is so telling! Because elsewhere it talks how RJ’s type of looks reminds him of Shi Mei (and as we later find out, the fact that both are acting and betrayers is also similar) and yet here we are - Mo Ran with flower removed finds that kind of looks not at all his bag (which makes sense - if his type is Chu Wanning, older, icy, in control and, as Meatbun keeps reminding us, despite his gorgeous looks, not in the least delicate and girlish looking), then Shi Mei is not his type on the animal level. And yet he seemingly pines for Shi Mei and when you first read this book, you do not catch this odd misalignment at all, that without the flower spell, Mo Ran would have never even looked at Shi Mei as attractive whether CWN existed or not. But on reread! I love the way Meatbun sprinkles crumbs.

4. Mo Ran wonders how he actually got reborn. Ooooof!

5. The way Meatbun mentions “this may have been a matter of heredity” (OK not sure what’s the good word - heredity/genetics/background) about how Mo Ran built his foundation so quickly. There are so many hints, everything is so meticulously planned out!

6. When Xue Meng is cursing him out and Mo Ran is enjoying it - and it’s described as his enjoying feeling strong emotions directed at him. In fact, reading between the lines, everything seems stronger and brighter for him - emotions (his and others), colors, tastes, his own emotional state. That is because he is beginning to feel normally, without the spell on him, and it’s like coming out from beneath a thick, distorting piece of glass. 

7. I love that he thinks of cutting Rong Jiu’s face but does not because Rong Jiu hasn’t harmed him yet and going down the same vengeance path would mean a bad end, why waste his second chance. All correct, all logical - but is it something the man who fried his wife and murdered half the world and then killed himself capable of? Once again, Meatbun, you genius!

8. The way TXJ didn’t even bother to put an inscription on his own grave. But what he has in the coffin are dumplings and pear blossom wine and the grave is under the haitang tree. He wants to die surrounded by CWN even though he has no idea with his conscious mind.

[heliads]

i've got my eye on you

Nico Rosberg has moved on from 2016; the silver war; all of it. So he thought, at least. Lewis is still here, though, and that makes the forgetting so much more difficult.

masterlist

Nico Rosberg is not lonely, most of the time. He’s a busy man; he meets a lot of people, takes them out to drinks or dinner parties, and exchanges LinkedIns as often as phone numbers. It’s a good life. Keeps him sane. 

Sometimes, though. Sometimes, Nico finds himself waiting for something else, something better, something real. That’s when he crosses the line he swears he’ll never touch again and thinks about someone specific. There is a man living in his very same complex, someone who knows Nico better than the scores of environmental activists and Sky Sports reporters, and Nico doubts they’ll ever be the same again. 

They were good in the beginning. Better than good, they were the best and everyone knew it. The silver arrows, finest of the fine. They had identical white race suits and the same exact drive to win. That’s where they ran into problems, of course, because the podium only has space for one king to have a crown. The other has to be left in the shadow, the cursed second place. No one could live like that forever. They certainly didn’t.

Still, they were the same in almost every aspect. Nico swapped up their hats once, towards the end. He had wanted to throttle whoever had the idea to make their merch so similar. They may be on the same damn team, but that doesn’t mean they have to match in everything else as well. Same logo, same colors, and then Nico had taken off his cap to fidget with it and saw Lewis’ name there instead of his own, embroidered into the black fabric with the precision of a machine stitch. 

Funny how Nico can literally walk around wearing Lewis’ name against his skull, and they still have no more claim to each other than complete strangers. Worse than strangers, actually. They had once been everything.

Some days, he thinks about it all the time. Other days, he forces it out of his mind until he can almost delude himself into thinking it’ll never show up again. And, on other, worse days, such as this one, Nico walks into the lobby of his home building in Monaco, both of his daughters holding his hands, and he spots Lewis across the room, pulling a suitcase behind him. Must have been a race weekend. Nico knows it is, of course, fixates over every score like he’s still in it, but. It’s easier to pretend that he could forget.

Usually, Nico’s good at brushing off encounters like this, but they’re just too close for that tactic to work. Nico wasn’t expecting it; last night ended up being late, plus he’s been out with the girls all morning. That’s why he doesn’t just keep walking, why he actually stops and stares. Lewis comes to a standstill around the same time. Must be the jetlag getting to him. That, and the fact that they haven’t been face to face outside of a race or work setting in months.

Nico should keep moving. He doesn’t, even as his girls tug at his hands in confusion. They know of Lewis, certainly, they’ve seen pictures up on the fridge and online, but they didn’t know Lewis like Nico did. No one could.

“It’s good to see you,” Nico says uncertainly. Pleasantries never fail.

Lewis shudders slightly and nods. “Yeah, you too. Hope the girls are doing well,” he adds, as if he can’t see both blonde daughters right by Nico’s side. They’re still holding onto his hands, one apiece, and eyeing Lewis with wide, curious stares. They’ve inherited that from him already, it seems, the inability to look away.

“Do you two want some sweets?” Lewis asks suddenly. “I keep a bag in my luggage.”

Nico frowns, asks something asinine about drivers and nutritionists and fitness goals. Lewis just chuckles and says that he never actually opens the thing, just keeps it in the bag so he can practice self discipline or something else insane like that. God, he always tried to be the best of them.

His girls don’t know any of that sort of life, though, and won’t so long as Nico can help it, so they just clap their hands and plead for a treat or two. Nico gives the appropriate nod when it’s clear that Lewis is serious.

Lewis kneels down to the ground, unzips the top of his suitcase and pulls out a bag. Crisp, unopened, just as promised. Lewis’ resolve held all this time, then broken just now. The plastic tears easily. It doesn’t take much.

Lewis considers the bag. “I’ve always been fond of those. They remind me of some stuff I used to love a while back. They were from some small town, I don’t remember where.”

“Hoddesdon,” Nico says. He states the place aloud like he’s rattling off one of a thousand countries or capital cities, some bright child with a knack for memory games who will grow up into a man who knows too many languages but not enough people with whom to practice. “You’re talking about the candy from Hoddesdon.” Town near the place they used to kart together. Close enough to walk or bike from any hotel or flat. Two boys could do it easily if they were inclined to stay out all day and night, and they usually were.

Lewis’ head snaps up, and the brief look of shock and wonder reminds Nico of when they were kids. It’s the exact same expression Lewis would wear when Nico agreed to buy him some sweets. Even though Lewis would beg and plead with him all day long, the moment Nico said yes Lewis always looked surprised, as if he never truly expected that Nico would go along with it. That Nico would go along with him. Maybe that’s why Nico always caved. It meant he got to see that look again. 

Painfully, it also reminds Nico of how Lewis had looked when he found out Nico was retiring in 2016. They were in the midst of a massive crowd with too many overlapping voices and faces, but somehow Nico had still been able to look out across the crowded room and sight Lewis the moment Nico opened his mouth and announced his retirement. 

It had been the same expression then as now. The brief drop of his stomach like a roller coaster, the smooth spread of a poker face to cover up any emotional slips or wide eyes. All of it. Lewis had never told Nico any of this, of course, but Nico has known Lewis long enough to read his body, his mind, his entire life. It’s why he likes pointing out Lewis’ flaws on Sky Sports; just another way of proving that he’s still got it, that no matter how much Lewis changes, Nico Rosberg still knows exactly what makes him tick. 

More often than not back then, it was Nico. It’s still Nico now whenever they awkwardly run into each other in their complex or Nico analyzes him a little too well on live TV. 

Right now, though, Lewis is not angry at him, just caught off guard. Something in the back of Nico’s brain says that he likes that more. Nico scowls to himself and wonders why he hadn’t shut that voice up years ago. 

“Yeah,” Lewis says at last, after a weighty pause that Nico isn’t entirely sure doesn’t solely happen in the confines of his own head, “Yeah, it was.”

To distract himself, Lewis remembers what he’s promised and hands some individually wrapped candies to the two blonde girls clustering in front of him. Nico remains where he is, watching as Lewis replaces the bag in his luggage again, closes the top, stands up and mumbles something about how he’d better get going. Crazy travel like always. You know how it is.

Nico does know. He nods, giving Lewis the reprieve he needs to head to the lift. Nico thinks that he might actually lose his mind if he was in the same small box rattling up to their floor, looking anywhere but at Lewis, so he diverts his girls to throw their trash away first and Lewis gets away. Another lift comes in a short time. Everything is just as it was before, but– not at all.

His daughters cheer over their new sweets, giggling down the hallway about how they were able to convince Mr. Hamilton to give up his secret stash. Nico is plagued by the sudden thought that if he had married Lewis like he’d wondered about all those years ago, if they had adopted these girls instead of them being Nico’s by bloodline, that he might laugh about their reaction being inherited from Lewis instead of, you know, from him. It makes Nico think about just how much of Lewis is left in him. It makes him question if any of Nico is trapped inside Lewis, waiting to be let free. 

Even after he gets back to his place and locks the door carefully to guard against any unwholesome influences, Nico’s entire train of thought is rattled for the rest of the day. Nico has been trying his damndest to avoid Lewis every time they catch the lift or leave the building around the same time, and he knows full well Lewis has been doing the same. He’s all but admitted to it a few instances before.

This is why they play this elaborate game of hide and never seek, then. Nico lies awake at night, remembering paths he hasn’t gone over in a long time. The start. The glorious first act. How it had all broken to pieces. Nico had said before that he doesn’t regret the rivalry, that it only pushed them to greater heights, and he stands by that now. Still. That doesn’t mean his blood doesn’t run dark with grief to think of everything they once had that is gone forever now.

Nico can remember talking with his communications handler about it one time. He and Lewis had been fracturing for a while by then, but they’d only started showing it publicly for a few weeks. The guy had told Nico that this was good, actually, that people liked the slow burn death of it all. It was like watching a railway crash in slow motion, the guy had said. You know it’ll hurt and you know it’ll end badly but you just can’t look away for the life of you. 

It had made Nico’s veins thrum with the unhappy sickness of needing to prove the truth to be a lie. He’d wanted to spit in the guy’s face; swear at him until he ran out of breath; go drag Lewis in front of a live camera and make out with him until their gums bled, just to prove that they were still totally fine. 

Look where all that pent up self-justification got him, though. Nico and Lewis are hiding from each other in the same complex, too convinced that the other needs to change to ever leave. The comms handler must be laughing at them still, gleeful and victorious after Nico made him rich. 

There was a lot that even the viewers didn’t see. It’s not like either of them really tried to hide it, how they broke apart, but even so. People only saw the same few photos of sun bleached hair and gap toothed grins and unicycles, they didn’t know all of it. Nico thinks that’s for the best. The thought that anyone could know even half of what they had is intrusive and wrong.

When he closes his eyes, he can see all of it at once, overlapped like a thousand magazine clippings. Sleeping over and staying out late and making the same stupid jokes every time. Trying each other’s food and loudly arguing irrelevant details and racing and racing and racing. Small nothings that only serve to make him smile. More important stuff. Secrets Nico has only kept to himself.

Nico has only kissed Lewis once. That’s not counting stupid things like kisses on cheeks, everyone knows those don’t actually matter. That’s why you can get away with doing them in the background of televised interviews, in large crowds, even next to your father. People wouldn’t care, anyway. They’d laugh and say that he and Lewis were European, that’s what they did. It wasn’t real. It could never be real. When you count up how many times Nico wanted to kiss Lewis and didn’t, though— well, that would be like damn near every day. 

The one kiss was different. That was on purpose. He’s thinking about it now. It was late at night. 2015. Abu Dhabi. Nico had wanted to win that championship more than he’d wanted anything in his life. Maybe he’d fucked himself over in Austin, maybe even earlier, but it was still Lewis with the security of that title once the final race was over. He’d driven beneath the waving flag, he’d smiled and cheered in all the photographs, and Nico had felt this terrible sort of rage simmering beneath his bones.

The kiss had been later, at one in a successive chain of afterparties for both Mercedes drivers, technically, but mainly for Lewis. Lewis was the one who got it done. Lewis was the one who made them all proud. Lewis was also the one who pulled Nico aside when everyone else was busy getting shitfaced or screaming their heads off.

It had been dark. No one had seen. Lewis had grinned at him, asked Nico if he was really going to sulk the whole night. Nico had said something stupid like why shouldn’t I and give me a reason to stop and, well, Lewis had. Nico can still feel that night burned into him, taste it like all those times he drank champagne on a podium straight from Lewis’ hands. Salt and sweet and shameless. 

Lewis had pulled away just a little, enough to smell the alcohol on his breath, and asked if he was better. Nico lied, said yes, and swore to himself that he would win the next championship just so the next time this happened, he would not be the one to suffer. Betrayed with a kiss. Nico had made a proper Judas after all. He can still see the faces of everyone at Mercedes after he walked out of that contract, how even Vivian had cautiously asked him if he was really sure this was what he wanted. No one knew Nico Rosberg at all, and that was exactly how he wanted it.

Still, though. Thinking about the past makes him think about the kiss. They may have been somewhere between tipsy and wasted when it happened, but Nico swears that it had been a long time coming since before the fights even started. It just took the ache of resentment to let them cross that bridge and leave it burning.

He shouldn’t think about it anymore. He definitely shouldn’t think about how he’s still in the same building as Lewis, so close. Viv is out with the girls at the moment. No one would know. If Lewis rejects him here and now, well, Nico can always go back to his green energy fanboys and YouTube subscribers to soothe his ego.

This is a bad idea, and Nico can’t help it. He paces back and forth on the hallway he thinks might be Lewis’, dragging his heels like Lewis might be able to sense his hesitation somewhere, wherever he is, and come out at last. At the start of it, Nico has about a thousand different things he wants to say, accusations and apologies and mundane pleasantries all.

At the end, when Lewis does come out of his room, Nico doesn’t say anything. Can’t say anything. Instead, he just sort of nods, raises a hand halfway like he’s doing that weird half-jog at the start of a crosswalk. 

Lewis waits, silhouetted against the threshold of his door, and when it’s clear that Nico won’t be doing or saying a whole lot at the moment, smiles and asks, “What, come here often?”

It’s a stupid joke. Nico laughs anyway. “We both live here,” he says somewhat impetuously.

Lewis tilts his head to the side, considering this. “Not right here, I think.”

Nico narrows his eyes, debating whether he truly has to explain the abstractions of flat rooms versus buildings, but Lewis breaks into that light chuckle of his and Nico lets go of his irritation, he lets go.

“I’m kidding, man,” Lewis tells him, still unable to hide a laugh, “Just trying to mess with you. Can I ask why you’re here, though?”

It’s a fair question. Nico is, in fact, loitering outside of his former friend turned rival turned something’s door like he’s got nowhere better to be. He doesn’t, but that’s beside the point. Truth be told, Nico himself doesn’t entirely know why he’s here. It just seemed like the place he needed to be.

“I was thinking,” he begins, “About a lot, actually. It’s been a while.”

Lewis stares at him for a moment, eyes wide, and then all of a sudden his entire being relaxes and he opens the door a little more. Good of him for finally recognizing an olive branch when Nico offers it. God knows he’s been practically screaming it every interview they’ve shared, every time they’ve met each other’s eyes in the paddock when he was there with Sky Sports.

“Wow,” Lewis mumbles, “Yeah. That sounds– that sounds good.”

This time Nico can’t hide his derisive snort. “That’s terrible. We’ve been avoiding this for ages. I run into you, we act nice, then run off. We have to face this.”

A brief spark of anger flashes through Lewis’ eyes– good, that’s something Nico can handle, something familiar that they can both feel better about than this strange nothingness– but even that’s gone soon enough. Lewis doesn’t have to put up with him like a teammate, Nico supposes. Whatever they do from here on out is their own undoing, the red purely on their ledgers. He wants to drown in it.

Lewis knows this too, Nico can taste it like blood on a bitten tongue. They stand there for a moment longer, daring each other to take it further. It’s a familiar game, one they’ve played since kids. I’ll go faster if you do. You’ll jump off the bridge so long as I go first.

The heavy pause ends with the gasp of a caught breath. Lewis hesitates a bit, wobbling on the heels of his feet, then rocks back down to earth at last. “You can come in, you know. If you want to.”

The sentence sort of makes Nico sick. There was a time when he wouldn’t have had to offer such a thing at all. The invitation would have gone without question. Nico thinks he lived half of his childhood at Lewis’ place instead of his, in hotel rooms and bedrooms and streets behind houses. The other half Lewis was at Nico’s. The thought that at some point they would be grown and staring at each other, having to wait for a formal question to share each other’s space, is nothing short of horrific.

Still, it’s better than they’ve been for a long time. Nico can still feel Lewis’ gaze washing over him again and again, taking in the details. They’re older, both of them, but not beyond the urge to stare. He can feel the weight of it on his throat, heavy like a chain, and it robs him a little of his faux confidence.

 Nico nods once, the movement jerky and unsteady. “Alright,” he says, smiles, loosens his collar, and follows Lewis in.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

[unpretty]

hey where did bruce get that rundown thing he does...? name, height, physical description, facts. i wouldn't have noticed it was in multiple fics except that he does it with corinne :eyes:

yeah i think he does it in arm candy, reviving a tomb, partition, unrealistic... mostly ones with pretty girls 🤔 and it looks like in unrealistic i accidentally stopped using metric. or else he categorizes some people in inches and others in centimeters for mysterious reasons. maybe he kept describing people with metric but had to translate to feet so often he gave up.

anyway bruce pov vacillates wildly between 'normal' and something extremely spare depending on how divorced he's feeling from his own body or how consciously he's keeping himself in control. short sentences because he's on his own short leash. i liked the idea that when bruce wants to remember someone he constructs a mental database entry that starts like he's describing a suspect. or a missing person. then veers off into whatever personal information he considers relevant to hold on to. like if he wants to get to 'nuclear physicist' he still has to go through the physical description first because that comes first in whatever filing system he has in his head.

it's similar to constantine's bullet points except that it's deliberately dispassionate and fake-objective. you can tell when bruce is Fully Unhinged because everything gets really rambling and sentimental. the start of chapter five is very holding-on-by-his-fingernails because he can't stop himself adding in subjective modifiers like 'soft' even though he also manages to pull off "she's likable" instead of "i liked her". he doesn't access the mental database for everyone he meets, just when he wants to assemble evidence or answer a question. usually the question is "is this person trying to fuck me and how do i feel about that", which is usually metaphorical but in the fics i write tends to be literal.

of the 'detective' character povs, bruce and constantine are both the least subtle. they are consciously evidence-gathering. bruce has his list of faux-objective facts about appearance (measurement estimates, coloring), constantine has his list of entirely emotional responses to people's appearances (too fucking tall, smells like a grandma). alfred is more physical and self-centered, very focused on how things relate to him personally (is this person a threat to me, have they noticed i am a threat to them). martha is the most touchy-feely, all about what people are feeling and their motivations (not what they look like, but what are they trying to look like). i don't think i've ever done thomas pov (he's a surgeon but that's not not a detective. there's mysteries, sometimes about corpses.)

... i don't know if that answered the question

[ssahotchnerr]

who do the twins take after? looks and personality wise, at least? do they have a favorite parent? how alike are they with jack?

i feel like in terms of looks, the twins would favor aaron for the most part, and i love the idea of them being identical as well <3 they both have his dark hair, the same brown eyes, they even happen to be lefties, which aaron was absolutely ecstatic about 😭 but they have your nose, your lips, they share your height as they get older.

plus you always tease aaron over the fact that you carried them for so long, only to have them coming out looking like him 😭

and i don’t think they have a favorite per say, but they’re definitely daddy girls <3333333

personality wise, definitely a mix of both you and aaron! they've mastered furrowing their little eyebrows just as he does - when they're frustrated or upset. they're so driven and goal-centered when it comes to hobbies, school, or just anything - they have the same work ethic as aaron. meanwhile, their talkative and more open/flexible side definitely comes from you. (i would go more into detail about reader's personality, but i don't want to make this exclusive :))

and i feel like your personality would rub off on them a teeny bit more - only because aaron travels for work and you're around them constantly. but the girls are both so equally similar to you and aaron it's crazy. hehe it takes both of you aback all the time. one of the girls would do something in front of you, and you're just like ?? you are your father. and vice versa, aaron will catch a glimpse of you in one of the twins and doesn't know what to do with himself 🥹 and as the girls get older, maybe one favors aaron more, then the other you, in terms of personality. it's ever changing <3

and the twins are so so so alike to jack, because they look up to him so much 🥹 they've been utterly fascinated by him from day one, ever since they first met him in the hospital, just staring at him as itty bitty newborns <33 as soon as they're mobile, they're always crawling towards him, trying to climb on him, and bringing little stuffies or toys to him to play. and jack absolutely loves his role as older brother- he's always asking you if he can help with them, give them their bottles, in the morning- he's the one going into their nursery to wake them up (admittedly earlier than you and aaron would like hehe, but you can't even pretend to be upset🥹) he loves snuggling them. if one is upset, he'll do whatever it takes to get them to smile, and he loves teaching them. he loves showing the girls how to do things, helped when they were learning how to walk, taught them colors, and he's always talking to them, even if they can't understand 🥹 they're all practically inseparable 🥹 the sweetest kiddos ever, and both you and aaron can't believe how lucky you are <3 they get into soccer because of him, and the girls always show interest in his hobbies to begin with - they just want more reasons to spend time with him 🥹