#but his emotions and feelings and hopes and dreams and friendships are so so very human. makes him more human than anything else

[chimsartblog]

hi it’s me again. i forgot to add this to my other ask because it is So funny to me that your ashswag is some kind of deity god thing and my squiddo is some kind of eldritch god herobrine thing. like they are swapped…. and my ashswag is just. sad trauma guy. i pathetic-wet-cat-ified him.

The dualities of peoples interpretations of ash swag...... but rheyre always friends so ^-^ YAY YAY !

[misstycloud]

Imagine yandere vampire hunter finding out he married one of the creatures he vowed to destroy. The very monster he dedicated his entire life to kill.

“…no..i-it can’t be..” his voice was barely a whisper, but you heard it loud and clear as if he was right next to you.

You stood still in the darkness, your face was a mask of indifference. If you hadn’t been blinking he would have mistook you for a statue. It appeared you’d been careless and let yourself be seen- by him no less. You could still feel the warmth of the blood dripping down you chin; a curtain of red fell down the front of your dress and stained it.

“Please tell me this isn’t real..” your husband let his eyes wander to the soon-lifeless body laying not far away. Small puffs of air was seen coming for the person, indicating they were not yet dead. The disgusting sound of gurgling in one’s own blood sent a shiver down his spine. His eyes met yours, searching for any sort of confirmation that everything was indeed a figment of his imagination.

“It is, I’m afraid.” You said.

He let out a devestatd choke, muttering ‘no’ over and over while shaking his head, clearly in denial.

You reminded yourself not to show any emotion and stepped forward. “I will not lie to you and therefor I will utter the clear truth in front of you. I am a vampire.”

“No, no you’re not.” He refused to believe it. If it had been his friend; he would prioritise duty before friendship. If it was his brother; he would do the same. Even if it was his own parents; he would die before letting insensible things such as emotions to come in the way of doing what is right. But this was different. It was you. It can’t be you. It could never be you.

But it was. Clearly. The evidence- the body- was right in front of him; unblinking and unmoving.

“You cannot look away from what is in front of you-“

“Stop saying that!” He suddenly shouted, surprising you with the sudden change in tone. “You can’t be one of….them.” He expressed in great repulsion.

Despite knowing how evil your kind is, you still though of yourself as quite good- well, as good as you can be when you’re a blood sucking, murderous creature of the night. So your husbands disdain awoke some sort of defensiveness in you.

“Well I am. And I have been for a while now.”

He seemed to think for a moment. Then he asked, “how long? How long have you been a…a vampire?” He furrowed his brow at the end, not believing he’d connect ‘you’ and the word ‘vampire’ in his life.

“36 years. Not as long as some others, but it should still count as something.”

“Oh god..”

It meant that you were one since the start- no before- your marriage. Was he truly that blind? Had love taken such hold of him that he could no longer do his job properly?

How many vampires had he killed during you union? All that while simultaneously being wed to one himself. While loving one, caring for one and even making passionate love to one. It was like some fucked-up punishment tailor-made for him.

He knew what he had to do.

The first tear fell down his cheek, betraying his stern expression and showcasing his endless sorrow. “You are evil,” he raised his crossbow, “and now you have to be judged for your crimes.” How ironic of him to talk about committing crimes of slaughter as if he wasn’t doing exactly the same. He wasn’t stupid; not all immortals were pure darkness, it wasn’t that simple. They do what they have to in order to survive. Only some killed more than they had to. Still, it didn’t change the fact that they all need to be destroyed.

Your eyes widened when he pointed the weapon straight at you. You expected this. Of course he would kill you. However, a part of you could not stop from hoping he wouldn’t think of you as a monster. That perhaps you’d finally find somewhere you can call home and be accepted for what you are. It was a naive dream. Weren’t you his wife before you were a monster? Apparently not, because an arrow shot at you at incredible speed. It hit you in the arm and you cried out in pain.

While you had physical advantages, it doesn’t mean you are immune to pain.

Ripping it out, you studied the black liquid staining it. Your husband swore and immediately prepared to launch another. You felt your fangs grow in length and you hissed at him. Throwing yourself at him the two of you rolled around on the floor, each trying to restrain the other. You managed to get ahold of his crossbow and threw it away form his reach.

Your husband quickly dug into his pockets to grab a dagger, and tried to stab you. Luckily you stopped him in time, fighting him with your vampiric strength. You had to give it to him, he was surprisingly strong for a human. Despite you having supernatural gifts, he was definitely a match and you had a hard time holding you down. If it was any other situation you would have been impressed and rather seduced by his sheer strength, unfortunately this was not a good situation for you.

You leaned down, planning to bite him, but his fast reflexes let him use his free arm to keep you at a distance. He was now on the floor with you straddling him and trying with all your might to end his life.

Your husband knocked your heads together which was the distraction he needed to kick you off of him. You clenched you forehead in pain and backed away. But there was no more time to dwell on that pain, because it was minor compared to what you felt next. Agony was in your side, accompanied by the dagger you had previously defended yourself against.

Your lover was close. Enough for you to feel his breath, and enough for you to see tears running down his regretful face.

“Why was it you?”

Whether he referred to you being a vampire or you being the one he married, you did not know. It hardly mattered anyway.

In a way, you did love your husband. It was probably not in the normal spousal way but it was there. Maybe if you weren’t a blood-sucker you two would have been truly happy together. Too bad fate had other plans. Even though it was true that you were probably evil, you wanted to live. And despite the one threatening your existence was none other than the man who’d show a you devotion and love you though t you’d never find again, this was not where you wanted it to end.

With a shriek, you used all your power to push him as hard as you could. He flew backwards into the wall. You supposed he’d fainted from the force since he wasn’t making any move to get up. You clutched your side and groaned. You had to get out of there; somewhere safe.

You stumbled to the window and put your foot on the ledge. The dagger he’d stabbed you with must be silver, otherwise it wouldn’t have made as much damage. The wound in your side burned and sizzled with pain. You had no idea if your body would be able to fully heal you in time for when you need blood again- or even at all.

“Ugh….”

You heard a cough from behind you. It was your dearest. He must be sturdier than he looks to have woken up so quickly. He had rolled over to lay on his stomach and had his arms pathetically stretched in your direction.

“D-don’t go.”

You scoffed at his audacity. “What, so you can finally finish me off?”

He whimpered, “ N-no, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have done that- why did I do that?” The last part appeared to be a criticism on himself. Nevertheless he continued, “please, I won’t do it again. I was wrong, you’re not evil I know that, I don’t know why I said that. I’m so sorry, please..”

A frown adorned your face. “It’s okay. I’m not evil, but I know I’m far from good- I’m not that delusional.” Then you turned back to the view of the outside world.

“Wait, no-“

“I have to go. I really mean it when I say this, ‘thank you for all these years together, they have been the happiest days I am now able to remember’.

“My love, don’t-“

You ignored his pleas as you jumped from the window. You landed in the dirt outside. You looked back at the house which you’d just escaped from and as you prepared to run off to another town and build up a new life (until you’d eventually have to run again) you listened to the scream of the man who’d been your husband for six years.

What was he screaming? What else if not your name.

-

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Blurred Lines

jenna ortega x female reader

summary: You and Jenna, best friends and actresses, are cast as lovers for the first time, tasked with bringing a romantic chemistry to the screen. But as scenes unfold, the lines between acting and reality begin to blur.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: This was actually the first Jenna story I wrote!

————

What are you thinking so hard about? Jenna asks plopping down in the director's chair next to you.

After being best friends for years, you and Jenna have finally gotten the opportunity to work alongside each other on your latest film Lovestruck, a romance film where you two are playing the lead couple.

You. You wanted to say, but you were 8 years too deep in the friendzone to truly say what was on your mind. "Just the next scene," you smile at her tiredly.

Her eyes light up, "I've been looking forward to this scene for so long!  God just look at that view Y/n!  I'm so jealous of Lalya," she sighs, referencing the character she's playing in the film. "Just who wouldn't love to be confessed to here," your co-star finishes looking over at you with sparkles in her eyes.

When your manager gave you the script for this project, you could only laugh at how much the story paralleled your situation with Jenna.  You were playing Quinn, a girl who has been in love with her friend for years, but couldn't do anything about it.  Eventually the mixed signals and watching the one she loves be with others got too much, and Quinn angrily confesses by the lakefront during a sunset; the view Jenna was fawning over just a minute ago.

You could only wish that the aftermath of any potential confession of yours could resemble the one in this film. Layla ends up reciprocating Quinn's feelings and it's a happy ending.

Unfortunately the universe isn't as perfect as an angsty teen romance, and is rather a sick minded individual who gets a kick out of meddling with people's lives. For years you and Jenna have auditioned for the same projects to play friends, enemies, even sister's but why is it that the one project both of you manage to land is this one?

"Y/n/n!"

Startled, you look over at the girl who's been trying to get your attention for all this time while you zoned out. "Y-yeah sorry. You're right. It would be a dream to be confessed to here."

She hums and stands up before placing a hand on your shoulder looking intently into your eyes, "I'll see you on set after the break, hope you bring your A game Y/l/n," she winks with a smile before walking off.

Jenna walks over to Andrew another actor working the film and immediately starts laughing and touching his arm in conversation.  You couldn't help but roll your eyes, but you also couldn't tear your eyes away from the scene that always happened to unfold in front of you.

It hurts you beyond belief watching your best friend interact flirtatiously with other people. Having to hear about rumoured boyfriends and especially having her not deny them. The mixed signals you got from the girl wasn't any help either, like what was that hand on the shoulder just now? The wink?!

You walk away trying your very best to calm yourself down before your big scene. Jenna frowned as she watched you walk away and towards your personal trailer.

————

The director calls everyone to set and has prepared to shoot the big confession scene. The crew helps you and Jenna find your places and fixes up any imperfections in your clothing. As you stand before your co-star you're hit with a strong wave of emotions. The 20 minutes you spent in the trailer wasn't much help, and now as you watch Jenna who is looking at you curiously, you make a realization.

You may never confess to Jenna. How could you? This friendship was the greatest you've ever had and you were aware of the fact that friendships like this one, don't come easy. It would be insanely stupid of you to confess your love and single-handedly lose a gem like Jenna completely. The more you thought about it, the interactions between Andrew, the rumours with Percy, and countless other boys, the more helpless you felt. There was no way she could feel the same.

"You okay?" the gentle voice you've come to love speaks.

You're silent.  She looks at you with her big doe eyes that you've come to love, but at this very moment you hate so much.  The concern in her eyes is pushing you off the edge.  You hated it.  You hated how her caring nature has only gotten you falling tenfolds harder. Why does she have to be good to me, why does she torture me like this you ask yourself.

"Y/n/n."

You look away, refusing to look into her eyes, scared of the emotions you'll find in them, scared of finding out how much more you could fall in love with her in this moment, so you settle on the view of the sunset.

The director begins a 10 second countdown to cue in the start of the scene and you're still looking at the sunset pondering. This may be the only time that you'll ever speak the words of a confession to Jenna. Yes, to her it'll be you performing the script, Quinn speaking these words, but she doesn't have to know that you will mean all the words you speak with every fibre of your being.

A light smile plays on your lips as you think about the performance you're about to give and how it should get you nominated for all the acting awards in existence. The lines of Quinn and Y/n have blurred, and you are playing no character other then yourself.

You won't be acting.

"Action!"

The scene begins and you start marching away from Jenna like the script told you to.

"Wait- Stop!" Jenna says frantically grabbing on to your arm.You roll your eyes, shrugging her off and continue walking.

"Why do you insist on hurting me?" She shouts, following the script.  You stop walking and pause.One beat. Two beat. Just like the script instructed. You turn around, glaring at her with more intensity than the script demands, "Me? Hurt you? That's rich coming from you."

Jenna hesitates, caught off guard by the seriousness in your voice, but quickly recovers, staying in character.

"Yes you asshole! I invite you to the lake house, and all you do is ignore me!"  Groaning into your hands, you speak your next line.  "Layla. You're joking right?"

"No Q, I'm not.  Do you even care about me?  It's my fucking birthday, and you're acting like I'm not even here, sulking in one of your moods and embarrassing me in front of my friends!"

"Then what am I?"

"What?"

You laugh, running your hands through your hair, struggling to keep your emotions in check.

"If those are your little fucking friends, then what am I to you?"

Jenna acted taken aback like she was supposed to, "My friend? My best friend? I don't know that's not the point! Wh-"

You cut her off, "But it is the point!"

You break the script.

You blink hard, letting the tears that were building up before the scene fall down your face.

Jenna had a look in her eyes that you've never seen before it was confusion and something else you couldn't pinpoint. Being the amazing actress that she is, she improvs her next line, so the scene can get back on track.

"Here you go again not wanting to address the real issue," she rolls her eyes.

You decide to stick to the script with tears streaming down your face. "I can't keep doing this anymore Layla," the words carrying the weight of years of hidden feelings. "Watching you with them, pretending I'm fine when I'm not. I can't just be your friend anymore."

Jenna's eyes widen, her character momentarily forgotten as she registers the raw emotion in your voice. "Quinn... what are you saying?"

You take a deep breath, letting it all out, the pain, the frustration, the love. You're about to do it and you hope that just for a second your performance will blur the lines for Jenna. "I'm saying that I'm in love with you, and I have been for a long time. And it kills me every time I see you with someone else, knowing I can't be the one to make you smile like that."

The silence that follows is deafening. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, waiting for her response, both in character and out of it. The director's voice seems far away as he doesn't call cut, letting the scene play out naturally. For a moment you start to think that Jenna has forgotten her line, she's supposed to say, "For how long?"

But she goes off script.

She takes a step forward so she's only a foot away from you and takes your trembling hands (that you didn't even realize were shaking) in her own, an attempt to calm you down.

Jenna, as Layla, steps closer, her own tears glistening in the fading light. "Why didn't you tell me sooner, Quinn? Why did you let me go on thinking we were just friends?"

Your voice cracks as you respond, "Because I was scared. Scared of losing you, scared of ruining what we have. But I can't keep pretending anymore."

Jenna reaches up, gently cupping your face with her hands, her touch warm and soft. "You idiot," she whispers, her voice trembling. "How could you not know? How could you think for even a second that I didn't feel the same way?"

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks, and for a moment you forget that you're on set, that this is all supposed to be a performance. It feels too real, too raw.

"T-then what about everything I see? All those guys?" You say staying true to the script, but you couldn't hold your tongue and add, "The rumours? The interactions I always see?"

Jenna clearly seems taken aback by your addition to the script, and opens her mouth and closes it, at a loss for words.

You can't help yourself and continue, "Do you have any idea what it's like to watch you with other guys? To see you flirt with everyone else and feel like I'm just...invisible?"

Jenna's heart races as she realizes the depth of your feelings, the lines between the script and reality blurring completely.

Jenna continues, the rest of the scene now being pure improv. With tears in her eyes, "I wasn't trying to hurt you...Q. I wanted you to notice me. To see me the way I see you.

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest. Jenna's voice is trembling, her gaze locked on yours, and for the first time you realize she's not just playing a role. She's confessing, right here, in front of everyone.

"I've been in love with you for so long," you get out through tears, "But all I've ever seen is you with them... like I don't even exist."

The shorter girl steps closer, dropping the last remnants of her character. Her hands reach up to cup your face, her touch gentle and filled with unspoken emotion.

"I didn't know how to tell you, Quinn. I was scared, so I tried to make you jealous, provoke you into action, hoping you'd finally do something. I-I was hoping you'd see how much I care. How much I...love you.

Your breath catches, your heart pounds in your ears, and you break character completely not caring anymore, in a trembling voice you ask, "You really feel the same way?"

Jenna nods, tears spilling over as she smiles, a mixture of relief and vulnerability in her expression.

"Yes, Q. I've always felt this way. I was just too scared to admit it... but not anymore."

You blink, struggling to process what's happening. This wasn't in the script—none of this was. But it's real, and it's happening now.

You smile through the tears, "Then let's stop pretending, Jenna. No more games... I'm yours if you'll have me.

Jenna lets out a small, tearful laugh, pulling you into a tight embrace. The cameras are still rolling despite your name drop, but none of that matters anymore. She pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes shining with a love that's no longer hidden.

"I've always been yours. Always."

In that moment, you lean in, pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that's filled with all the years of longing and love you've both kept hidden. When you finally pull away, you're both breathless, tears of happiness mingling with the raw emotion of the scene.

The director calls "Cut," but neither of you moves, still lost in each other's eyes. For a moment, the set is silent, the crew unsure if they've just witnessed the best acting of your careers or something far more real. But you both know the truth—and it's better than any script that could have been written.

[nhlclover]

LAST CHRISTMAS QUINN HUGHES

pairing: fem!reader x quinn hughes

summary: you are forced to confront lingering emotions and the complexities of a past romance when you and quinn cross paths at a holiday party.

warnings: no unfaithfulness but pretty damn close, quinn not being the greatest person/boyfriend, reader isn't that good either

wc: 2.82k

notes: based on 'last christmas' by wham!. i am fully aware that this is an extremely gay song, but i love the plot so i altered the interpretation a bit. hope you enjoy :)

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart But the very next day, you gave it away

The house hummed lowly, holiday conversations bouncing off the walls. You navigated the crowded living room, clutching a cocktail glass that held the homemade mixture that Colleen was calling ‘Mistletoe Kiss’. It was tart and slightly bitter — much like the season itself. Colleen was hosting a last-minute bash before everyone scattered for the holidays, a final get-together before the new year. The rush of the holiday season was clearly getting to everyone, seasonal jet lag laced in all your friends' eyes.

You were doing your best to keep your head down, getting yourself stuck in conversations to keep yourself occupied, and never exposing yourself to a potential interaction with Quinn. 

The knowledge of his presence had landed like a gut punch earlier when Colleen’s boyfriend, Kyle, casually mentioned he’d arrived. “Yeah, Hughesy just got here. Grabbed a beer in the kitchen,” he’d said, completely oblivious to the ripple it sent through you.

Your history with Quinn was beyond complicated. For years you liked him — really liked him. When Colleen introduced you to one of her boyfriend's friends, you weren’t expecting to fall as hard as you did. 

Quinn had this way of making everything feel lighter just by walking into the room. His smile, easy and genuine, had a magnetic pull, and his laugh — deep and sincere — could dissolve any tension in an instant. It wasn’t just his looks, though they were undeniable. It was how he made you feel like you were the only person in the room, even when the place was filled with people.

But back then, Quinn was in a relationship, and you were the friend. The one who listened when he vented about the highs and lows of his relationship, the one who offered advice when things felt rough. You never let your feelings show — kept them buried deep, a secret you couldn't share without risking the delicate balance of friendship you’d worked so hard to maintain.

Then, the inevitable happened. Quinn and his girlfriend broke up. The breakup was messy, full of unanswered questions, lingering emotions, and unspoken regret. But through it all, you were there for him. The late-night phone calls, the long walks that turned into marathon chats about life and love. You were there as he processed his feelings, as he tried to make sense of everything that had unraveled. You listened, you comforted, and you kept your distance — telling yourself that you were just being a good friend.

But when he kissed you that night, everything shifted. It was a quiet evening, after a few too many drinks, the weight of the conversation having settled into something more comfortable between you two. You were sitting on the couch, the hum of the party muffled in the background, and Quinn, in that way of his, leaned in close. His eyes searched yours for something, as if asking for permission, and then his lips brushed against yours in a slow, tentative kiss.

For a moment, you thought you might wake up from some kind of dream. You never expected it to happen. The line between friendship and something else had been so carefully drawn, and yet here you were, tangled in the blur of it all. But you didn’t pull away. Instead, you kissed him back, your heart racing as the world around you disappeared.

That kiss changed everything. It was the moment you realized that maybe you had been falling for Quinn all along, not just in the way of a casual crush, but in a deeper, more consuming way. It was never just about being his friend. Somewhere along the way, you had become someone who wanted more than just to comfort him through the pain of his past relationship. You wanted to be a part of his future.

The shift in your relationship was seamless, like turning a page to the next chapter. Quinn wasn’t the type to make grand declarations, but in his quiet, steady way, he made you feel like you were the only person in the room. He showed up with coffee when he knew you’d had a rough day and pulled you into late-night drives just because he wanted your company. For a few fleeting weeks, everything felt like it was falling into place.

But there was always a part of you waiting for the other shoe to drop. Quinn was kind and thoughtful, but he was also guarded — his walls didn’t come down easily, even for you. You sensed that he was still carrying the weight of his past relationship, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

Just a few days after you’d rung in the New Year with a sweet connection of your lips, Quinn was sat on your couch with his hands clenched in his lap, telling you he wasn’t ready for anything. The sting of his previous relationship still lingered despite reassurances that you’d helped him get through it. 

The winter months after that conversation were some of the hardest you’d ever endured. It wasn’t just the biting chill in the Vancouver air or the relentless gray skies; it was the hollow ache in your chest that followed you everywhere. The city itself felt like a constant reminder of Quinn. His face was plastered on billboards, buses, and newsstands, the unmistakable symbol of the Canucks’ future. You couldn’t even grab a coffee without overhearing someone discussing his latest performance on the ice.

You buried yourself in work, determined to fill your days with enough activity to keep your thoughts at bay. But no matter how much you distracted yourself, memories of him crept in like the cold drafts under your door. The moments you’d shared replayed in your mind on an endless loop, leaving you wondering if he regretted kissing you or if it had meant as much to him as it had to you.

By the time spring arrived, you were ready for a change. The first thing was your hair. You traded your usual style for a rich, darker color and committed to letting it grow long for the first time in years. There was something cathartic about watching the stylist cover up the light color that felt too tied to your old self. Next, you tackled your wardrobe. Out went the comfortable but somewhat juvenile staples, and in their place came sleek blazers, tailored pants, and minimalist jewelry. You wanted to project confidence and maturity, even if you were still trying to find your footing internally.

Spring turned into summer, and with it came an unexpected lightness. You threw yourself into hobbies you’d neglected — morning yoga classes, weekend hikes, evenings spent sketching at the beach. It was during one of those hikes that you met Caleb. He was warm, easygoing, and funny in a way that caught you off guard. He didn’t play hockey — thank God — but he shared your love of the outdoors and seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you.

Dating Caleb was simple in a way that being with Quinn never had been. He made you laugh and let you take the lead when you needed space. Over time, you convinced yourself that you were moving on, that you were happy. And you were — mostly. But there was always a part of you that felt like you were lying to yourself like you’d left a piece of your heart behind with someone who didn’t know what to do with it.

By the time fall rolled around, you had settled into a comfortable rhythm with Caleb. But Vancouver’s hockey season was back in full swing, and with it came the constant reminders of Quinn. You saw him in advertisements along the streets, in post-game interviews on TV, and in casual mentions from friends. He was everywhere, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape the shadow he cast over your life.

Now, standing in Colleen’s crowded living room, the knowledge that Quinn was here felt like a cruel twist of fate. You avoided the kitchen like the plague, keeping a safe distance while you plastered on polite smiles and engaged in surface-level conversations. Every nerve in your body was on edge, hyperaware of the possibility that at any moment, you might turn a corner and see him.

It wasn’t fair. You’d done everything you could to move forward, yet here he was, pulling you back into the orbit of what could have been. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way. Did he think of you when he passed your street? Did he ever regret telling you he wasn’t ready, or had he moved on completely?

You moved through the space, finding a new conversation to occupy yourself in every time the old one faltered, doing your best to avoid Quinn. You stopped at the entry of the living room, spotting Kyle holding court near the fireplace, his animated storytelling drawing bursts of laughter from the small crowd around him. 

Caleb stood nearby, his grin soft and familiar as he leaned against the wall, his broad shoulders relaxed in the easy way that had initially drawn you to him. Watching him, a small smile tugged at your lips. Caleb didn’t demand space in your life — he simply filled it, effortlessly complementing your days. Being with Caleb was uncomplicated. He didn’t carry the weight of unspoken feelings or unresolved emotions. It was light, refreshing.

But light wasn’t the same as fulfilling.

A pang of guilt gnawed at you as you realized your thoughts had wandered from Caleb to the person you’d spent all evening avoiding. Despite your best efforts, Quinn remained an unfading part of your narrative. No amount of moving on seemed to erase him completely.

As you lingered in the corner of the living room, trying to fade into the background, a voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Wow, I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Your heart jolted. You turned, your eyes landing on Quinn. He stood just inches away, his presence as commanding as ever. He had one hand tucked casually into the pocket of his dark jeans, the other holding a bottle of beer. His hair was slightly longer, curling at the ends, and the familiar cut of his jawline sent an unwelcome pang through your chest. His eyes raked over you, lingering just long enough to make you self-conscious of the changes he was referencing — the darker hair, the clothes.

You find the strength inside you to muscle out some words. “Yeah well… it’s been a year, it doesn’t surprise me.”

Quinn lets out a soft laugh, nodding slightly. “The hair suits you,” he added, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Thanks,” you managed, your voice steady despite the storm brewing in your chest. You felt the heat of his gaze, his attention unnervingly focused. “You look good too,” you added, gesturing vaguely toward him. It was true — he always did, but now there was something different. An ease, maybe, or a quiet confidence that hadn’t been there before.

“I was starting to think you were avoiding me,” Quinn said, his tone light but his eyes searching.

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you lied, taking a sip of your drink to buy yourself a moment. “Just…busy, you know? Catching up with people.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The air between you crackled with unspoken words, the kind that lingers in the space between two people with too much history and not enough closure. You glanced over to Caleb, hoping he saw you talking to your ex, hoping he’d come over and rescue you from the situation you couldn’t seem to tear yourself away from. However, the stayed intensely focused on the story Kyle was telling, leaving you to your own defenses. 

Quinn followed your gaze across the room, landing on the guy he’d seen you arrive with earlier in the night. “Who’s he?”

Your eyes snapped back to Quinn as he tipped his beer bottle to his lips. You felt your cheeks warm, though whether from the cocktail or the sudden shift in conversation, you weren’t sure. “Caleb,” you said, his name firm and steady in your mouth, a reminder to yourself as much as to Quinn. “He’s…he’s great.”

Quinn nodded, his eyes locking on yours with that steady, unreadable gaze he always seemed to have. “That’s good. I’m glad for you.”

You hesitated, unsure why you felt the need to elaborate but knowing you couldn’t leave it at that. “He’s been really good to me, actually. Supportive, kind… everything you’d hope for.” The words came out earnest, almost defensive, like you were trying to prove something — to him, to yourself.

Quinn’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “That’s…that’s what you deserve,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice cutting through you like a knife. The words were kind, but the way he said them made your chest ache. You opened your mouth to respond, but Quinn stepped closer, the subtle movement making your breath hitch. He studied you intently, his eyes tracing your face like he was committing it to memory.

“Are you happy?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart stumbled, the question catching you off guard. “Quinn…”

“Are you?” he pressed, his tone gentle but insistent. His gaze dipped briefly to your lips, and the air between you crackled with tension. “Because I’ve been trying to convince myself I’m okay with this — with seeing you with someone else — but I’m not. I miss you.”

The world seemed to narrow in that moment, the low hum of Colleen's holiday party fading into a distant echo. Quinn's words lingered in the air between you, heavy with longing and regret, and you felt your pulse quicken as he stepped closer. His familiar scent—a mix of fresh pine and something distinctly his—wrapped around you like a memory you couldn’t shake. The ache in your chest deepened as his gaze flicked to your lips again, and your breath caught.

You were terrified. Not of him, but of yourself. Of how easily you could lean into him, let him kiss you, and lose yourself in the familiarity of his touch. And the scariest part? You wanted to. Despite Caleb, despite everything, there was a part of you that ached to feel Quinn’s lips on yours again. To know, even for a fleeting moment, that he still cared.

But you couldn’t. Could you?

The sound of Caleb’s laughter cut through the moment like a lifeline. You turned your head toward the fireplace, where Caleb stood, his grin wide and carefree as he laughed at something Kyle had said. His warmth, his steadiness, and the way he had so effortlessly become a part of your life came rushing back to you. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be a footnote in a story still haunted by Quinn Hughes.

Stepping back, you forced yourself to put space between you and Quinn, the cocktail glass trembling slightly in your grip. “Happy Christmas, Quinn,” you said softly, the words catching in your throat but firm enough to leave no room for ambiguity.

Quinn blinked, caught off guard by your sudden retreat. His brow furrowed slightly, as though he wanted to say more, to stop you, but he didn’t. He simply nodded, his jaw tightening as he stepped aside to let you pass.

You moved through the room on autopilot, weaving through clusters of partygoers until you reached Caleb’s side. He looked up as you approached, his easy smile breaking into something warmer when he saw you.

“Hey, you okay?” Caleb asked, his hand brushing lightly against your arm. The gesture was small but grounding, anchoring you in the moment.

You nodded, forcing a smile as you slipped your hand into his. “Yeah, I am now.”

He smiled back, leaning in to press a light kiss to your temple. The simple gesture was everything you needed in that moment—a reminder of what you had, of the life you were trying to build, even if it wasn’t perfect.

But as Caleb’s attention shifted back to Kyle’s story, you couldn’t stop the fleeting glance over your shoulder. Quinn was still standing where you’d left him, his expression unreadable as he watched you. For a moment, your eyes met, and the weight of everything unsaid settled heavily between you.

You looked away first, turning back to Caleb and focusing on the sound of his laughter, the warmth of his hand in yours. You had made your choice—at least for now. But deep down, you knew this wasn’t over. Quinn had a way of lingering, of leaving his mark on your life even when he wasn’t trying.

And no matter how much you wanted to believe otherwise, part of you still wasn’t sure if letting him go was the right thing to do.

[vintagetimetarot]

Your future friend group 🎟️✨

Hi guys! Decided to do this topic since I haven’t seen it done before. As always, take what resonates and leave what doesn’t, it’s a general reading. Pick a vintage picture below for your group!

Pile 1: The first thing I’m getting is that this is soul family vibes. This friend group is going to be very kind and nurturing. There will be no gossip or dishonesty, like you’ve dealt with in the past. I also believe this friend group is very woman dominated. This group will just find you. You could meet this friend group through a spouse, or your spouse is going to be apart of this friendship group, or both. This group is small and very close knit. You guys do everything together, and always make time. You guys all become friends very fast actually. I see this friend group kind of mold itself rather than you being in a pre established group. You guys like to go out together often, that’s what the group is all about, especially in nature. A lot of people in this group have personality differences and multiple other differences. This group is very diverse and has different cultures. There’s just this positive and uplifting energy. They aren’t mean people at all, and they all also have a very good reputation in their community. You all meet locally as well, I see everything this group does is so local, I don’t think this is an online friend group. Everyone is just so respectful, and it’s very bubbly. These people are not Debbie Downers, and always think on the bright side. They are quite extroverted as well. That’s all Pile 1, I hope it resonated.

Pile 2: So I think this is going to be a small yet very exclusive friend group, but you find them fast. I see this friend group is pre-existing, but you are well integrated into the friend group and welcomed. This may be a very popular friend group, for most of you this friend group you will meet either in school or in the workplace. I see you becoming friends with everyone in this group fast. They might be intimidating at first, but as you get to know them you know they are very kind souls, who are just careful who they give their energy to. I see them being a little cautious of you at first, but you prove yourself worthy to them and they let you into their lives. This friend group does a lot of very high profile stuff together, I feel like this is a rich kid/people friend group LMAO. This friend group is a good mix of genders, both men and women. They like to just chill and hang out at fancy places. I see you becoming very acknowledged in this friend group, they all think highly of you. This group never disappoints. They may be a bit stoic, but I still think this group is gonna be there for you, even when it’s real tough. Lastly, I think that this a group of mostly introverts. They like to just feel together, they are super consumed to put themselves out there, which is why at first you may find it hard to integrate, but you will be accepted. I hope it resonates Pile 2, that’s all!

Pile 3: You are going to meet this group of friends after you go through a fallout from an old group, or just a generally rough time in general. I think this friend group is going to be introduced to you. For some of you, you’ll meet a future partner from this friend group, and/or their will be dating within the group. You’ll be going through big changes in your life when you meet them, and this group is gonna match your values and expectations. I think you know these people currently, but you are going to get closer with them soon, and integrate into the group. This is a very healthy group, and is what you’ve always wanted in a friend group. I think this Pile has many different energies, but whatever your dream group is, that’s essentially what they are. I think if you have emotional issues, this friend group is very accepting of that and this group will help you heal. This group also is very supportive for you emotionally. It may be some time until this group comes into your life, because you have lots of internal work to do. But this friend group will serve as a reward from the universe for your hard work. This group is filled with very academically driven people as well, but that may resonate for only some of you. Lastly, this group is gonna hype you up so much. They just really like your personality and demeanor. This group is going to find you and invite you in, so don’t worry. That’s all Pile 3, I hope this resonated.

Pile 4: This future friend group of individuals is going to actively encourage and help you constantly. I think this friend group you could meet while traveling or doing something you don’t usually do. This is a very diverse friend group of different races, economic backgrounds, styles, etc. I think a lot of different people are just bunched up here. This group is completely fresh, so I don’t see this being an old group or any of your current friends in this group. This friend group is very adventurous, they love life! They always want to explore, and will push you to get out of your shell. This group will help build you up as a person. I think this group is going to try their hardest to include you, while at first you may resist them a lot. But once you come out of your shell, they are gonna LOVE you! This group is very positive and likes to just include people. They really enjoy just walking around town and trying new things kind of vibe. I think this group has a lot of different personalities that would usually clash, but you all actually fit so well together. I think this group also has a lot of different energies, but this group is just so positive. Lastly, you guys are always trying new things together. You guys are all close knit, even though I feel like this is a big friend group. There is a lot of online communication as well, since for some of you, you meet on the go. That’s all Pile 4, hope this resonated.

[writingescapades]

Falls First, Falls Harder

Multiple characters: Rafayel x reader, Pinocchio x reader, Aventurine x reader

Rafayel:

Of course he fell first. You saved him. You befriended him. You encouraged him. You supported him. You bestowed your heart in his hands with a smile on your face. And you betrayed him. His love haunts him, for only he recalls these memories. And yet! And yet, he finds himself unable to detach from you. An urge beyond a mere bond. Your relation in the modern day, a palimpsest of new experiences atop old emotions. It’s new and old, scary and nostalgic. He doesn’t know if this path will end the same as every other path. He is a god. His every act demands a grand sacrifice, even from himself. And yet, he chooses to fall.

You fell harder. Who was this strange, charming, enticing man? Initially a job turned into best friend. You couldn’t imagine being in a position where you find yourself reaching out to someone you barely know but fully trust. Rafayel was surprisingly fun. Always keeping you looped and eagerly seeking for you to entwine back. Touchy. Deep, and very caring. His loyalty astounds you when surrounded by the lights and smiles of admirers. No matter how high to the gods his talents take him, he always seems to look down only upon you. It’s a different sensation, yet very familiar. Too familiar as your dreams are too eager to play on familiar faces and memories. You really don’t know where life with Rafayel will take you, but you’re slowly finding it impossible to imagine it without him.

Pinocchio:

You fell first. How could you not? A sweet, quiet, gentleman-puppet with a mischievous streak. In the wreak of Krat, this sole life drew you in. Pinocchio shone for he remained every enchanted, ever curious with the world, no matter how decayed it was. It was addicting. He taught you to experience life anew. You couldn’t help the resurgence of feelings you thought died with Krat. But you held back. He was a puppet, brand new to life. You could not possibly foist such emotions onto someone so, young – emotionally. Instead you savoured the friendship, and bitterly swallowed back your feelings, hoping they would go away one day. But they wouldn’t. So you fell harder.

Pinocchio is new to emotions, yes, but he isn’t a fool to himself. He may not be able to express himself as articulately as he imagines or desires, but he understands what he feels. The more he grew, the more he discovered. And so, to him, it made perfect sense to read a book and instantly connect the couple to him and you. And it made perfect sense to show you the book, point to the couple, and then move his finger back and forth indicating the two of you. He didn’t understand your frown and shake of your head. He didn’t understand your words or disagreement. Yes, you are friends. Yes, very close friends. But to Pinocchio, you are also what this couple was. Why else would he scrounge around for odd bits for you after a battle? Why else does he go to you first when he comes home covered in oil, mechanical hand in bad need of repair? What did it mean to you to be this couple? Yes, he would like to hold you. Yes, he does seek you out. Would you let him in?

Aventurine / Kakavasha

You fell first, but it took a long time. Aventurine would not show you any side of him beyond his persona of the gambling manipulator, and you could care less. For the longest time, he was just that guy you sometimes worked with. You worked surprisingly well together. Mostly because you let him plan everything out, putting in a voice when you knew your idea would work. It surprised you that he seriously considered your inputs. It surprised everyone else too, which was why you were unofficially Aventurine’s work partner. People really learn about one another when they’re exhausted, and their lives are on the line. Aventurine slipped his mask a little, but it was enough to see that there was more to him. You didn’t call attention to it, but quietly responded. If he noticed, he didn’t draw back. It was really the small things like holding his cup while he played, making sure no one slipped anything into his drink. Or carrying him to bed when he fell asleep at his desk again. You were just being a good person, until that moment. He was gambling, again, and you saw it. It was almost imperceptible, but after working alongside him, you knew when something was off. The stakes were high, and his hand started to tremble. You found yourself holding onto his hand. In shock, he let the dice go as he turned towards you. He won the game but attained a better reward. You.

Aventurine doesn’t pride himself on how long it took for him to let you in. He exaggerates kind acts because his life seemed to abstain from it, but he knows to be wary. That every open hand conceals a dagger. Which was why your nonchalance surprised him. You didn’t fawn over him, nor did you detest him. He was his himself around you, and he couldn’t bear that. But you were useful, and so easy to be around. So he pushed you and tested you, but it seemed that he was the only one who tired out. Aventurine cracked and Kakavasha peeked out. He expected a complete rejection, but you, you held his hand, and he has yet to let go.

[checosbluespring]

finally → ln4

lando norris x plus size!fem reader

genre: best friends to lovers

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), slight angst, slight dom lando, slight dirty talk, pls let me know if I am forgetting anything

word count: 4.9k

sidenote: hi everyone! this is my first fanfic that I have ever written so please excuse if its not the best, I hope to get better with time. I want to take requests so if ya'll have any lmk! this is also not beta read, sorry if there are little mistakes. I also tried to not make the reader self deprecating but insecurities are a thing so it was a bit hard to find a balance.

♡♡♡♡

You and Lando had been friends for as long as you could remember. It was a crucial part of your weekends growing up hoping in the car with his family and watching his karting tournaments. You knew from a very young age Lando would be one of the greats, he would make it to f1. That always scared you, not because you didn't want him to achieve his dreams but because you were scared of losing him. But throughout your friendship he had stayed loyal to you. 

Growing up, it was like Lando was your protector, he still kinda is to be honest. You were a big girl, there was no hiding it. Now that you are older, you’ve began to love and accept your body, but it took a lot of practice. So much so that even Lando has had his fair share of putting his two cents in. He was never embarrassed of you or tried to hide you away, even as he got more popular. 

You remember when you were around 15, you were sitting in the stands next to his mom when you overheard some of the other drivers' friends talk about you.

 “God how is he not embarrassed to be hanging out with someone who looks like her” and so on. You had felt mortified that day, you went home and cried to your mom. When the next weekend came you made up an excuse why you couldn't go and the same went on for the next couple of weekends until Lando showed up at your doorstep. 

“You're ignoring me, and don't say you aren't” said a pouty 15 year old Lando. “I'm not ignoring you, Lando, just maybe it's best if I don't go to all your karting tournaments”. You immediately regret what came out of your mouth because the last thing you ever wanted was to make Lando feel like you have, less than. 

“Who are you to decide what's best and what isn't?” you weren't used to this type of Lando, he never got mad at you or raised his voice. Being the emotional teenager you were, tears welled in your eyes and a few strayed away down your cheeks. Suddenly Lando grabbed you and pulled you into a hug. You have always been bigger than him but shorter as well. You felt small in his embrace. Even if in the back of your head you knew that was a lie.  “What happened y/n, tell me so I can make this better”

“ I don't want to embarrass you” you said into his chest. “embarrass me how?”. 

“I overheard some of the other driver's friends talking about me and my weight, and they are right, I don't want to embarrass you, racing is your life, Lando, I can’t ruin that”.

 You felt his chest rise and fall. “Tell me who told you that, now” he said in a cold distant tone, Lando never got angry, except on the track. “No I'm not going to tell you, because I don’t need you getting in trouble”. He looked a bit deflated after you refused to tell him but he continued to talk.

 “Y/n listen to me, you are one of the best things to happen to me, your weight has and will not ever matter to me. The fact that you think it would tells me that I haven’t been doing a good enough job at showing you how much you mean to me. Racing these past weekends without you have been hell, i need you, you are my best friend” the friend part rings in your ears. You realize that’s what you’ll only ever be to him - a friend. Even if you desperately wanted more.

Things get a lot better after that. You got to his tournaments loud and proud, and now 9 years later you are still doing the same. The problem is that you are still desperately in love with your best friend. Having to see Lando date girls who looked nothing like you made you feel a pit in your stomach. You knew you never had a chance with him, but it hurt so bad. The kind of hurt that made you want to cry and throw up. You couldn’t lose him though, so you played the role as his bigger best friend, that he just couldn’t shake off.

Lando once called you his good luck charm, saying that race weekends where you weren’t in the grandstands were ten times harder. Once he made it to formula 1  it made it harder to go to all his races, but you tried. Even when Lando would have his girlfriends you were still there, sitting right next to them. If people knew how you felt, they would pity you. That’s why you knew it was time to try and find a boyfriend, you couldn’t pine after Lando for the rest of your life, even if your heart wanted to. 

As you’ve gotten older you’ve learned to love and embrace your body. You know you looked good when you put on a dress that showed your thick thighs. Every race weekend you are dressed to the nines, make up, hair, everything done. You do this for yourself but also because you want to look good for Lando even if you tell yourself that’s not the reason. 

It wasn’t until this year you finally started taking dating seriously. At Silverstone this year, Lando had given you paddock tickets. You always tried to deny them by saying it was important that his family had paddock tickets but he insisted. This is when you met Mark, one of mclarens engineers. He was sweet, funny enough, tall, cute, everything a girl could want, but he wasn’t Lando. You followed him though on instagram because you told yourself you were not gonna pine over Lando this year, you were gonna find a partner who loved and supported you. 

It didn’t take long before Lando had found out that you were following each other. Asking curious questions “hey how do you and mark know each other?” He questioned. “oh we met at silver stone and he asked to follow” in hindsight maybe you shouldn’t have told him that because he proceeds to tell you how Mark is a terrible person, boring, mean all of the above. A part of you knew Lando was lying but you wouldn’t jeopardize his career by dating one of his race engineers.

It’s race weekend in Austin and you were able to fly out and watch Lando race. He had an amazing race, to celebrate he wanted to go clubbing which was a rare occasion after his DJing side career. You looked in the mirror before you left your room and you looked so good. Your dress showed off all your features and your makeup looked great. You weren’t the type for one night stands but you were gonna find someone tonight.

After arriving at the club with Lando and his friends you found yourself alone at the bar. Lando was a popular person and you don't need his attention constantly. You took this opportunity to look cute and hopefully approachable. It wasn't long before a guy had offered to buy you a drink, and another one, and another one. After your third vodka cranberry you had started to feel tipsy but you were still fully aware of your surroundings so when the handsome guy in front of you pulled you on the dance floor you obliged.

You felt good and it was rare you ever let yourself go like this. The club started playing Spanish music and you found yourself grinding on this stranger. Your body felt flushed, like you needed to be touched and this random man was doing the trick. His hand gripped tightly on your hips and his head placed between the junction of your neck and shoulder placing hungry kisses. Just as you are about to suggest you guys get out of here, a pair of strong hands pulls you out of the man's grip. “Come on y/n where are leaving, the cars are here” Lando whispered in your ear, you couldn’t quite place his tone. 

“It’s okay Lando, you go ahead I’ll meet you guys there” you said hoping he got the hint but of course he didn’t. “No i'm not leaving you alone with this guy, come on let’s go” he said, slightly tugging at you. The random guy, whose name you still don’t know, steps in,  “dude she doesn’t want to go, let her stay with me”. You see something shift in Lando, something possessive? “Mate she’s mine so I suggest backing the fuck off”. 

That sobered you up real quick. Instead of feeling happy he called you his, you were fueming. He had no right to do that, he wants to cockblock you and for what. At this point you walk past them and head towards the exit, it’s not long before Lando is at your side in the car trying to talk to you. “Y/n I’m sorry, talk to me”, you don’t, you ignore him the entire way back to the hotel. You let tears fall down your face because all you wanted was to have a random hookup, something that you could leave back in the states and forget about, someone that you didn’t have to worry about his opinion on your weight afterwards. But Lando went and did this and you don’t know why.

He followed you to your hotel room and you finally let him have it. “ How dare you do that, you had no right to do that Lando” he opens his mouth to say something but you stop him. “ No, let me talk, I just wanted one night where I could be with a guy carefree and not have to worry about what others thought, Lando I’m a grown adult I don’t need you to save me, you don’t understand what it’s like to be like me. I love you Lando but I can’t keep myself available forever hoping and waiting that you’ll finally love me ". That last part wasn’t meant to come out but you were so mad at him you didn’t care. 

You see a shift in his face. “You can’t say I’m yours when I’m not, because I never have been, the girls that are yours don’t look like me Lando. And I’ve accepted that because I love you and will always support you, even if it feels like there is a knife digging in my chest every time I see you with a new girl”. Tears again are welling in your eyes but you are doing your best not to let them fall. 

“I love you Lando but I can’t be your friend if you don’t let me go, you can’t keep stringing me along as your best friend who acts like your girlfriend, do you know how pathetic I look next to your past girlfriends, pining after you. I was the one who made sure you were prepared before every race, I  was the one who stayed up late picking you up from clubs, I was the one who held your neck up after your first F1 race because it hurt so bad. Not once did I ever ask for something in return because you are my best friend and I love you, but Lando I’m begging you, I can’t be alone forever you need to let me try and be with someone. You mean the world to me Lando and I need you in my life, but I can’t go on like this” he looked stunned. But found the words he wanted to say.

“Can i talk now y/n” he looked angry, you nodded. “Not once have I ever forced you to be there for me, but I know you were there because you cared for me and I care for you too, even though you think I don’t. But not once have I ever wanted you to feel pity or pathetic, y/n you are the most important woman in my life besides my mom and sisters but you mean everything to me and I’m sorry it took me this long to realize it. Seeing you with that guy made me physically sick, not because of how you guys looked, god y/n you looked so good tonight but he was grabbing on you and touching you, but I knew I couldn’t be mad because he was doing what I have been wanting to do for years, he just had the balls to do it, oh my god I can’t believe you thought I would ever think of you like that, y/n I’m in love with you and I have been for years, I was just too much of a coward to show it, I want you to be mine” 

In that moment everything seemed like it would be okay, you didn’t think about what the press would think or his other friends, all that mattered was him. You nodded. “Lando that’s all I’ve ever wanted was to be yours” before you knew it he was walking towards you and placing you in a firm kiss. 

You have had your fair share of kisses but none of them like this, this kiss made your knees weak, it made you want to crumble to the ground. He moved his hand from your cheeks down to your waist giving them a hard squeeze, sending shocks of pleasure down your pelvic area. 

You both pull away panting when he places his forehead on yours, “you don’t know how mad I got when he was touching you, the way you let him grind up on you and kiss your neck, I wanted to beat the shit out of him”. You rebuttal by saying “while now you know how I’ve felt for years seeing you with girls, even the ones who talked shit about me, I wanted to fight them all”. 

This seemed to catch Lando by surprise “which ones talked shit about you?” “Babes half of them did, I chalked it up to them being jealous but it didn’t hurt any less”. “Fuck y/n I’m so sorry I never even loved any of them that’s the worst part of it, I was just trying to feel a void in my heart”. You went to hug him, placing your head on his chest. 

“Y/n I’m sorry I was an idiot and it took this long for me to realize my feelings and I’m sorry you got hurt in the process” said Lando

“No don’t apologize, deep down a part of me knew that if we were ever together, it would make things harder for your career, you would get so much hate” 

“Even if it did, I would walk to the ends of the earth for you, no public option would change that” 

Something hot grew inside of you and you crashed your lips to his, you wanted him. He fisted his hand in your hair lightly pulling it, that made you moan into his mouth. You could feel him smirk. Your hands settled under his shirt, mostly because your hands are cold but because you want to feel him. All of a sudden Landos hands traveled their way down your back and settled on your ass, gripping hard he stopped kissing you and whispered, “this ass is mine, don’t forget that”. You gasp and nod, you want nothing more than for Lando to take you right now. 

You slow down your kiss to talk “ Lando I want you so bad” “ I do to baby” with that you start to pull off his shirt showing his toned chest. It’s not like you’ve never seen him shirtless before because you have but this was different. You stare “you like what you see baby?” lando asked in a teasing tone. You bite your lip and nod. 

Lando starts to take your dress off and you panic. You grab his hands, “wait can I keep my dress on”

Lando gives you a look, and you can already tell what's going to come out of his mouth. You want to stop him because he knows you are pretty and your body is pretty but being naked in front of your best friend of 17 plus years is intimate. And it's not that you don't trust him but you can't help but feel the slightest bit insecure. Let's be honest you knew deep down Lando has never been with a girl who looked like you. Lando starts to say “if you want to keep it on you can, I would never pressure you to take it off but I want you to know I think you are the prettiest girl in the world. You don’t know how hot and bothered you would get me showing up to race weekends dressed in short skirts and your tits about to pop out”. In the back of your head you want to keep hearing his vulgar mouth, it does something to you. In response, you nod, slowly taking off your dress. You were left in nothing but your bra and underwear. “Fuck” you hear Lando whisper. Suddenly he’s attacking your neck, leaving harsh kisses.

You feel his stubble, his goatee rubs against the base of your neck. “You look so fucking good y/n, can’t wait to have you wrapped around me” You feel yourself get shy, you’ve thought about this moment a lot and now that it’s finally happening you want to do so much. Lando seems to notice your timidness and asks what’s wrong. “Nothing, I’ve just played this up in my head so much I want to be good for you” you reply. 

“Yeah you want to be my good girl huh? Don’t worry baby I have no doubt in my mind you are going to be amazing and listen to me” you feel yourself falling into a submissive space.

Lando continues to kiss you all while walking you both to the bed and gently laying you down. You have your hands loosely attached around his neck, so him breaking away is no surprise. “Gonna eat you out baby, can I?” Lando asks licking his lips

You nod your head furiously, it’s been forever since the last time you’ve had sex and even longer since someone has gone down on you.

As Lando kisses his way down your body, you feel a flood of wetness starting to pull at your core. Your body felt like it was on fire. “Lift your hips up” he commanded. You listen and do what is asked.

You feel the cool air make contact with your pussy, sending shivers all throughout your body. “You have such a pretty pussy, so wet just for me huh? I bet you taste so good y/n'' Lando speaks in a seductive tone. 

All you can do is let out a strangled whine. Desperate to have his mouth on you. He makes you wait a bit longer, he’s a tease at heart and you knew this. He sends kisses up and down your thighs, your stomach. Finally he places a kiss directly on your clit and proceeds to blow a puff of air. “Please Lando please, I need you” you beg, who knew you would be this far gone. “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna take care of you” and with that he attaches his lips around your clit sucking lightly. This makes you arch your back and your hands fly into his hair, gripping it tight. It’s almost too much, he notices and starts to lick around your vulva getting you more wet than you already were. 

You are a moaning mess at this point, your hands keep pulling at his hair getting a moan out of him. He looks up at you and asks “gonna stick my fingers in you is that okay” you already feel so fucked out that all you can do is nod dumbly. 

You feel his middle finger slowly sink into your heat. Lando didn’t have the thickest fingers but they were long, you let out a gasp when the single digit sinks in.

Lando continues to suck and lick around your clit. It’s not long before you start to feel a coil tighten in your lower stomach. If he continues to do what he’s doing you know you are going to come within the matter of minutes. It almost makes you sad because if this was a one time thing, you want to come around his cock, to be close with him. You open your mouth to voice your concern “Lando I’m going to come soon, stop, wanna come around your cock” 

He looks up at you, “you can come more than once right? Want you to come all over my face then again on my cock. You can do that right? You can be a good girl for me”. You nod desperately, his words send you further over the edge. You feel his lips engulf your clit and moan sending vibrations throughout your body. He has since added another finger slowly rocking back and forth into you. 

You feel your coil snap and a gush of wetness leaves you. You couldn’t even announce that you were coming but Lando got the gist. But he wanted to be a little bastard and play rough. He continued to suck and lick around your bundle of nerves, despite you being sensitive from your orgasm. You whine and try to close your legs around his head. But he only forces them open with his hand. 

“Lan please, I want your cock, wanna come again” you hear yourself slur your words. You don’t care at this point because all you want is to feel his body flush against yours. 

“How can I say no to you, pretty girl” when Lando  comes face to face with you, you see how slick and wet his mouth and chin is. Something primal takes over you and you grab him roughly kissing and licking into his mouth. Lando moans into it and says “you like tasting yourself on me huh? You are so fucking dirty, who knew my best friend and the girl I am in love with would have such a nasty fucking mouth and like such dirty things”.

You can’t even bring yourself to reply because all you want right now is to have his cock in you.  You settle for a nod and slowly bring your hands down to his boxers and begin to pull. At some point when you can’t pull them off anymore, he takes over and does it. His cock springs out and all you can do is stare at it. 

You are a bit ashamed to say you had imagined what it looked like, but the real thing was 10 times better than what you could ever imagine. He was average in length, but thick and curved to the right slightly. He was well groomed just like you knew he would be. Your mouth watered at the sight, if you weren’t in such a hurry to have him in you, you could sit with him in your mouth for hours. You want to touch so you bring your hand to wrap around the base of his cock. 

The first drag up there is a little resistance because he is dry, so you reach down and grab some of your wetness and lubricate him up. This makes the motion go much smoother. When he sees you do this, he moans. “Fuck y/n you are so hot, I can’t believe we waited this long to do something. I need to be with you”. 

You want him to go bare but as much as you love Lando you know you both should be tested before you do it. “Condom?” You manage to croak out. He nods and hops over to his jeans and fishes one out of his wallet. You want to make fun of him for having one stashed away there but you let it slide. While he's doing this you pull off your bra, hoping to surprise him.

As he comes back to the bed his eyes are wide. “You have the prettiest tits y/n, they drive me crazy, I felt like such a perv getting hard in my fireproof seeing you in the paddock, talking away. You had no idea huh? No idea that you made me feel this way” he questioned

You shake your head no in response.

As he’s in front of you, you see him roll the condom over his shaft. This is really happening. “I want to see your face when you come, can we stay like this?” Lando questions. “Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way” you say in a soft tone. 

He slowly starts to enter you. The stretch is tight, it burns in the slightest. It feels like the air is being punched out of you. It’s been a while since you’ve had anyone in you so the burn is to be expected, but it’s not unwelcome. You grab Landos arm for support, he notices your discomfort. “Do you want me to stop, baby? You are so tight, you feel so good”. You shake your head, that’s the last thing you want. 

“No, just been a while since I’ve had anything in me, you are so thick just give me a minute to adjust” you say

“Of course, take your time” Lando says while kissing your neck, it helps distract you from the pain. He’s fully in now, it’s just a matter of when you are ready to let him move. You let your body adjust for about a minute when you say “you can move”.

Lando slowly starts to rock back and forth in you. The burn is still there but it’s a delicious kind of sensation. Something you feel like you could get addicted to. You look between your bodies and see your stomach. For once you like the contrast of how your bodies look together. Only Lando could ever make you feel this way, you were sure of it. 

You feel Lando breathing heavily into your neck, soft moans slipping out every so often. You can’t wait to do more with him. One particular trust has you clenching around him, he lifts his head and says “fuck you feel so good around me, like you were made for me y/n, you pull me in so good” 

This almost brings tears to your eyes, for so long you had been there for him, helped him through thick and thin and he’s always been grateful but his praise is making you melt, pushing you closer to the edge. 

Your hands are currently at his back slightly clawing away, you know you couldn’t leave marks but you needed something to grab on to. You felt so full, you knew in a matter of minutes you were gonna come around him. “I feel like i'm gonna come soon” you say. “Same, you feel to good around me I can’t hold it off much longer”

He reaches between your bodies and starts to rub your clit, slowly in circular motions. This sends a shot of pleasure through your body as a reaction you wrap your legs around him.

Suddenly he pulls all the way out and you begin to whine but he slams all the way back in. You moan at the abrupt roughness. He moves back and forth with vigor, determined to get you both off at the same time. 

“I'm gonna come” you say when you feel pleasure finally reaching its highpoint. You are clenching, you can feel it. Only seconds later Lando mumbles in your ear that he's reached his high as well. Taking a moment before he pulls out he kisses you all over, your cheeks, forehead, lips. You don't want to let him go but you know you need to go pee and he needs to take his condom off. 

When you both return to bed you nestle your face into his neck, his scruff scratching the side of your head. There was no other place in this world you would rather be than in his arms, and yeah that may sound dramatic but he was everything you wanted. 

He looked down at you with the warmest eyes. “You are amazing, you know that. If it wasn’t clear before, I want it all with you. You are everything y/n and it’s time for me to start showing you how much I love you and appreciate you. If you’re in, I’m in” 

“Of course I’m in you muppet” 

You bring your lips to his for a soft peck. For once in the 17 years of your friendship, everything seemed to finally feel like it was going to be okay, and you couldn’t wait for the wild adventure it would be to be Lando Norris’ girlfriend.

[itshermocrates]

Some thoughts on Vander and Silco's relationship

I already talked about this when Arcane S1 first came out, but now that the show is over and we got to see a different reality where everyone has a good ending (except for Vi I guess) I want to bring back my Silco x Vander thoughts

So yeah, vanco ?? silder ??? post

Even if in Arcane S1 there’s some sort of parallel between Jinx/Powder and Silco + Vi and Vander, in my eyes those two were made for an old man yaoi story

Now that we have seen Jayvik’s evolution and that glimpse of them together in a “better future”, I realized that Vander and Silco (+ Felicia) could have something similar to what was happening initially with Jayce and Viktor (+ Mel)

Two best friends working together for a common cause, one hopelessly in love with the other while his partner can’t see ―or doesn’t want to recognize― his own feelings. Since I already have a Jayvik analysis in my drafts, I’m going to focus on Silco and Vander

This will be half a theory - half a fic + I also posted this on BlueSky so yeah, if you see it there it was also me lol

[Pinning, Unrequited love and love confessions that go wrong ahead]

I think Silco and Vander were the perfect duo back in their youth, together they had the brains and the strength, using both charm and cold logic to make people eager to follow them. What Silco lacked, Vander was able to provide and vice versa. Together they were the greatest leaders Zaun could ever ask for.

They not only completed each other like two puzzle pieces, but also shared a bond that had been nurtured since childhood. They had been facing hardships and Piltover’s aggressions since they were little kids, so it was natural that the years of friendship brought them impossibly close.

Some even said that they could have entire conversations without exchanging a single word.

At some point Silco developed a crush on Vander, how could he not? Despite his strength and sometimes scary appearance, Vander had always been the big sunshine boy who was looking after him. That urge to protect and take care of others seemed to be part of his very essence, and if someone benefited from this, it was his best friend.

Of course, they needed to fight and get dirty in the deepest hellholes of Zaun, but even when Vander got his knuckles drenched in blood, Silco could only see the kind man with bright eyes and a dream for a better life that Vander truly was.

Silco really thought that this new beginning for them was only possible because Vander was there with him, since when hope seemed completely lost, when the circumstances took another member of their little family, Vander always remained firm in his stance. They would find a way, they would fight back, they would keep pushing forward and they wouldn’t stop until they finally had the future they deserved.

Oh, wasn’t he convincing? Always the beacon in their times of need, who else could lead them out of their misery?

Vander’s kindness was disarming, and his light was so bright that Silco couldn’t help but fall in love with him. He loved him so deeply it made him feel sick, but he could do nothing about it. Vander had been in love with Felicia for almost as long as Silco had loved him, and even if she wasn’t really interested in him, there was no way that man could get over his emotions.

Just like Silco himself couldn’t make his own feelings go away. He pinned for years, forcing himself to hide how he felt so nothing changed between them and he didn’t lose his best friend. He had to protect their friendship, but, above everything else, he had to protect their dream of a free nation for Zaun.

Silco pinned and suffered in silence until he couldn’t take it anymore, until his unrequited love felt like an open wound badly infected, moments away from killing him. Then, and only then, he confessed.

Vander didn’t make a huge deal out of it, he was understanding and visibly confused. It was an awkward situation, but he could be nothing but kind, even as he broke Silco’s heart. Of course, he didn’t feel the same.

Or maybe he did, but he was too blind to see it, too infatuated by the idea of a future with Felicia to give a shot to a real future with him.

Vander had used a very familiar word to excuse his lack of introspection, one that served him as a shield while unknowingly harming Silco as if it had used the sharpest of blades.

“Silco, you’re my brother…”

They used brotherhood a lot to describe their relationship. Their found family, their friends, their allies in the Zaun revolution and even the fucking pilts, they all could see how deeply they cared for each other. And every time that was the reason they assumed to be behind their bond.

No one could ever deny the love in their eyes, the protective gestures, the smiles... It was obvious, but everyone assumed that what they shared was a blood bond. For Silco it was much more than some stupid liquid running through their veins, what they shared had been built over years of companionship, years of pain and struggle, blood was fucking nothing in comparison. Their souls were connected in a way no one could ever imagine or understand.

And Vander knew this. He knew how strong their bond was, but he hadn't really asked himself if what he felt for Silco was something more than brotherhood. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do if it wasn’t the case either, but he didn’t go as far as to truly consider it.

Vander didn't know how to react to Silco's confession, he didn’t want to hurt him or change their world forever. He was happy as they currently were, it was easy to live with Silco as a brother, but he didn’t know what was waiting for them if he ever allowed himself to analyze his own feelings.

Because of this, and completely unaware of the pain he was causing, Vander uttered that seemingly harmless word that Silco couldn’t stand anymore.

Brother.

The softness in his tone didn’t make it any less devastating. The pain in his eyes, as he knew how badly he was breaking Silco's heart, didn’t make it easier to hear.

The countless "I love you"s he pronounced after that, reassuring that even if it was not the same feeling, Silco was still one of the most important people in his life didn’t soothe the agony of his reopened wound.

None of that mattered.

Because he didn't feel the same as Silco.

The same word that once had been forced on them was now stronger than anything he had built together.

Silco didn't want to feel that pain, he couldn't allow it to stay inside his chest, not when it was so profound.

So he decided to leave The Last Drop. It would be only for a couple of days, to distance himself a little from the source of his pain and try to stitch close that damned cut.

During that time, alone and completely heartbroken, he focused on thinking of ways to achieve the goal they had been fighting for since they were teenagers. The Zaunite revolution and Zaun’s independence. He ignored his pain and used all his anger to plan their next move in their fight against Piltover, thinking of new ways to finally defeat their enemy.

It was during those days, blinded by the pain of his aching heart, that he understood they could only win against Piltover if they showed their true nature to the world. He knew by then that they needed to be more aggressive in their methods and destabilize, not only their government, but also their peace.

Let their own people know what monsters they had for leaders.

Let the people of Piltover suffer the same pain they had suffered since the very moment the City of Progress came to be.

The fight had turned into a way for him to forget his own suffering, and in his anguish, provoking pain to others stopped feeling wrong at all if that meant they could get closer to their goal of freedom.

It was at this point where the conflict with Vander started. Suddenly, the word "brothers" didn't quite fit them anymore, it seemed too caring for them. Now it was a word pronounced in a low voice, and when it was Silco the one saying it, his tone could only express disgust. He rolls his eyes as if the word was some sort of sick joke he hated to voice out loud, a reminder of what could never be.

Silco’s pain is a heavy weight preventing them both from going back to what they once had, and seeing this wounded Vander every single time his friend reminded him of his rejection. This, and how differently they started to approach their fight, made them step further and further away from the other.

And when they saw each other during important meetings, Silco threw the word “brother” extremely carelessly, always with the intention to wound Vander instead of calming him and expressing how much he still loved him.

It had turned into a word that neither of them could ever forget, and that would hunt Silco until the end of his days.

It had turned into a word that neither of them could ever forget, and that would hunt Silco until the end of his days.

[There's still a lot of resentment in Silco's expression, and in this scene before saying brother, Silco rolls his eyes. The man was PISSED]

In conclusion, I think "brother" was Silco and Vander's equivalent of Jayvik's "partner" and I bet Viktor was pissed as hell everytime he heard someone reffering to him as Jayce's partner AND JUST THAT, for both scientific pride and his hopeless crush on Jayce Talis.

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (Epilogue)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: description of hard childbirth, fluffy sex, hate sex, smut, angst, kid catching his parents having sex, anxiety, depression, childhood feeling of rejection ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

We have reached the end of this journey: I hope this epilogue gives you a taste of what their family life was like. I had a lot of fun writing this from three perspectives and I think it's a great ending to this series. Thank you to everyone who was with me and supported me. You may cry that the main series is over, but there are still two modern AUs in which we will see Aemond and Rhaenys again!

Aemond & Rhaenys's Children Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Aemond

It turned out that there was a role that terrified him more than being a ruler-regent alongside his wife and it was fatherhood. He was ashamed to admit it, but it was easier for him to understand the needs of the kingdom than his own son.

He was dominated above all by a sense of terror which made him freeze all over, not knowing what to do or how to behave. He first felt it when his niece suggested that he should take their newborn child into his arms.

"I don't know. You better hold him." He muttered, seeing in his mind all the possibilities of what he could do wrong and inadvertently hurt their son. His wife looked at him indulgently.

"Come here. Sit next to me." She said, encouraging him with a nod. He pressed his lips together, tense, and approached her slowly, sitting down beside her on the soft bedding. Viserys yawned loudly, twisting in his mother's arms, calm and content, his belly full of her milk.

He swallowed hard, horrified when she shifted towards him, wanting to hand him the infant in his hands. He immediately put his arms under him, afraid to drop him.

"Put his head here, on the bend of your arm. Just like that, support him with your hand on the other side. There you go." She said warmly, pleased at this sight. His heart stopped in his throat as her hands let go of his small body and his son remained in his embrace.

He was afraid that without his mother's familiar presence his son would begin to cry and become anxious, but he slept peacefully, snuggling into his leather tunic.

He was ashamed to feel the emotion and the burning tears under his eyelids looking at his small face, his tiny hands clenched into fists, thinking how great a burden was on him, though he did not yet know it.

On his son.

He swallowed hard when he felt his wife's hand on his back, her temple pressed against his cheek, looking at the scene.

"Isn't he beautiful?" She asked softly, and he was silent for a moment, feeling that he was struggling to find the right words to answer her.

"It's the most beautiful, innocent being I've ever seen in my life." He muttered and closed his eye in surrender, feeling a hot tear run down his cheek. She heard his heavy, uneven breath and leaned in, wanting to see his face.

"– oh, my love – my sweet, sweet husband –" She whispered tenderly, placing warm, wet, lingering kisses on his cheek. He snuggled his face into her neck, wanting as always to hide from his fear, insecurity and pain in her familiar vanilla-scented flesh.

From that moment on, holding Viserys no longer frightened him so much – what's more, he felt a sense of satisfaction when his son squirmed and squealed at the sight of him, happy, reaching out his small, chubby little hands to him, longing to be in his arms.

His father had never done that, but he had no intention of making his mistakes.

For this reason he took turns reading to him at bedtime with his wife. Sitting on his lap, Viserys gazed with big eyes at the richly illustrated legends of their ancestors, his little legs willowing in excitement every time dragons appeared on the pages of the book.

"Soon your dragon will hatch." He whispered in his ear, pointing his finger at a large vessel hanging over the hearth with a dragon egg inside, Daemon's gift to his grandson.

"You will fly in the skies. You will be king of the Seven Kingdoms. You will be fearless, fair, loved. I will be by your side." He hummed and kissed his plump, pink cheek.

His wife watched them with a smile, relaxing in a warm bath after a long, tiring day full of their duties.

The evenings, nights and mornings were just for them.

For their family.

She finally stood up from the water, throwing only a soft, cream-coloured robe over her body, tying it around her waist, reaching out her hands for their son, who had just fallen asleep in his arms.

"Don't wake him." He mumbled out in pain, purposely not moving from his seat unwilling to interrupt his slumber, handing Viserys to her. She laughed quietly under her breath, walking with their child towards the bed, sitting down on the sheets.

"I won't. Our little boy will eat his meal in his sleep." She hummed, slipping the sleeve of her robe off her shoulder, revealing her sweet, plump breast, all swollen with milk.

He swallowed hard, watching enthralled as his son, still asleep, in a natural reflex clamped his lips around her nipple and began to suckle with a purr of satisfaction.

He was ashamed of how he himself loved tasting her now, how warm and sweet her milk was melting on his tongue, how hard he was getting at the very thought that as soon as she laid their son down in the cradle, he would sink deep between her thighs as he did every night, cuddled into her fragrant body, listening to her sweet moans, only to fill her again with his seed.

The news that his wife was expecting his child again filled them with joy, and the birth of their third son reassured the entire kingdom – Viserys, Aegon and Daeron had secured the line of succession.

However, this time his niece endured the hardships of childbirth worse than before.

"Aemond!" He heard her desperate cry from behind the door of her chamber and, despite his brother's attempts to stop him, he walked inside.

He was horrified to see her blood all around her, her face at once pale and red from tears of exertion, her swollen lips parted in loud, pitiful moans.

"– uncle – the baby won't come out – oh gods, oh gods, oh gods –" She muttered, tilting her head back in a sudden panic attack, her mother began to comfort her quickly, squeezing her hand in her own.

Not knowing what to do with himself, he walked over to her, sitting down next to her on the bed, grasping her hand in his.

"– I'm here – I'm so sorry, my sweetest – I'm so sorry –" He mumbled out in a trembling voice, cradling her in his arms, feeling her go breathless all over, a squeal escaping her lips and a quiver of discomfort as another contraction shook her body.

"– fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, gods, please! –" She sobbed, and all he could do was cuddle his face into her hair, his heart pouding like a mad in horror.

He wasn't sure he'd experienced anything more terrifying, more heartbreaking in his entire life.

"– just a little more – I can see the head – there it is, push, Princess, push now –" She commanded, and by some effort incomprehensible to him, after several attempts, his niece forced his son out into the world, who wept loudly in Alys Rivers' arms.

"– he has your hair, Princess –" She whispered, and his wife breathed a sigh of relief, wailing loudly from the exhaustion, horror and pain her whole body went through.

Alicent and Rhaenyra promised to look after their children so that their mother would have a few days to recover – Viserys and Aegon were only allowed to see her for a moment, once the bedding had been changed and he had helped her dress in a clean, snow-white nightgown.

"– I envy him – your dark hair is more to my liking –" Aegon muttered, glancing over Alicent's shoulder at the infant she held in her arms.

"– enough – your mother needs to rest –" He said shakily, unable to pull himself together after what had happened, seeing with what difficulty his niece was smiling at their sons, trying to pretend that all was well.

He knew it wasn't.

She burst out crying in his arms as soon as they were alone, panting and whooping with her tears, his hands stroking her back and hair tenderly, trying to soothe her.

"– I'm so sorry – I know, my love – shhh – I'm here –" He whispered, kissing the top of her head again and again. His niece swallowed loudly, trying to catch her breath.

"– forgive me – forgive me for making you watch this –" She muttered helplessly, as if she was ashamed that she had forced him to look at something that was meant only for the eyes of women.

"– no – I would not forgive myself if you had to go through this alone – my sweet, brave wife – now just rest –" He whispered. She breathed a loud sigh of relief and snuggled into him, calming down slowly, exhausted after the hardships of childbirth and the emotions she had experienced.

He carried her in his arms because she couldn't get up or sit up, helped her bathe, change and eat, wanting her to know that her suffering and sacrifice for him and their family was not indifferent to him. Knowing that she needed rest, for days he would fall asleep by her side stroking her head, shoulders and back, letting her sink into the safe embrace of his arms.

However, he couldn't help what he felt as he looked at her, that he desired her and her body, that he wanted to touch her.

That he wanted to make love to her.

At some point, he realised that the desire she aroused in him was different than it had been at first: from a fiery, burning feeling of wanting to taste the forbidden fruit again and again, his needs had changed over the years and he knew that no other woman could satisfy them.

It was not because he did not find other women beautiful or worthy of desire, but because only her body brought him solace, only her hands touched him in a way that made him hot, only her scent sent shivers down his spine, only her bright eyes shone with a wonderful warmth at the sight of him.

Her insides were always ready to receive him, silky, moist and hot, giving him a sense of security, her naked body soft and inviting – his manhood, already without his mind's involvement, reacted with a joyful, excited pulsing and twitching in his breeches at the sight of her, equating her with the pleasure he experienced every time.

He concluded that, just as men became addicted to wine or cards, he became addicted to his wife's closeness.

Therefore, he couldn't explain to his painfully swollen erection why suddenly, despite his wife's constant presence next to him, he couldn't touch her and had to be patient: he craved her constantly and died lying next to her, unable to sleep from the tension.

One night his niece, feeling the way his swollen length was pushing, tucked into his breeches, against her stomach, took pity on him, gripping his fat, warm manhood in her hand. He moaned like a helpless little boy, rolling his hips to the rhythm of her strokes, her fingers giving him an encouraging, assured squeezes at the base making his heart begin to pound like mad.

"– please –" He muttered, his hand sinking into her smooth hair, his lips, puffy with desire, found hers in a hot, wet, sticky kiss full of their teeth and tongues.

His wife knew his manhood well – she teased the head of it, leaking with his desire, with her thumb, making it pulsate all over and tremble in her embrace, her tongue gently licking his, making him fall apart in front of her after a moment, desperate. He groaned with a loud sigh of pleasure, closing his eye in relief when he felt his hot seed spurt out onto her nightgown.

"– fuck –" He gasped, feeling a complete and wonderful emptiness in his head, her small body snuggled into his.

He heard her smile.

"Try to sleep now, husband."

That night, indeed, he slept a stony sleep like a small child.

Over the following months, they both slowly pushed the boundary: his niece again let his fingers sink tentatively into her fleshy, velvety folds, his fingers teased her nipples when, after his tender treatments, she finally reached fulfilment in his arms, moaning his name loudly.

"– put it inside me, uncle – please –" She mumbled helplessly one night, rocking her hips so that again and again her buttocks rubbed against his yearningly swollen manhood.

"– I can't, my sweetest – not yet –" He muttered – her small hand clenched on his arm which embraced her, her warm womanhood all pulsing, leaking with her sticky wetness under his fingers.

"– please – please, husband, I can't take it anymore –" She cried out in despair – he grasped her cheeks in his hand and twisted her face, only then seeing that tears were running from her eyes.

"– are you sure? –" He muttered in a trembling voice, feeling his whole manhood tremble and pulsate with desire, dreaming only of sinking into her warm walls again. His niece nodded her head quickly, making him grin involuntarily.

"– this little cunt misses me so much? –" He murmured affectionately and she nodded again, her pink, puffy lips parted in a sigh as the tips of his two fingers began to stretch her swollen, wet slit.

"– come here –" He murmured and she cried out loudly as he released his swollen erection from his breeches in a sure, aggressive motion, dreaming of feeling her this way again for weeks, immediately directing the head of his cock dripping from his moisture onto her tight, throbbing opening.

The feeling of being deep inside her again was an almost spiritual sensation – they both sighed and groaned as if relieved that they could be one body, one person again.

"– that's it – there you go –" He gasped, rolling his hips, sliding slowly deep into her only to slide out of her almost fully a moment later, again and again opening her swollen entrance on his thick, pulsing erection with the quiet clicks of her wetness.

"– good gods – I didn't fill you for so fucking long – my poor wife left without my seed –" He muttered with difficulty, his eyes closed while he longed to focus only on this, on her warm, soft, moist walls squeezing him greedily where it was so safe, so good, thrusting into her more and more confidently, feeling the familiar tightness in his stones proving that he was surprisingly close to reach his peak.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled, and nothing more than their sighs, moans and cries left their throats until they came together, panting heavily, all soaking wet and hot from the exertion.

His arms embraced her tightly, his lips placed quick, hot kisses on her shoulders as his chest clung to her back, their legs entwined together in disarray.

"– gods, I missed you –"

Viserys

Viserys knew no other married couple who behaved as his parents did in the solitude of their chambers. He had witnessed many times conversations between his mother and his father, the fearless, menacing One-Eyed Prince, rider of the mightiest dragon walking on the world.

He could hear the man he feared and admired at the same time listening silently to his wife's words, her comments on his decisions and their validity.

His mother had never challenged him in public during the meetings of the Small Council, but she did so often when they were already left alone, and his father, to his surprise, did not explode with anger, as was his custom, but listened to her with calmness and respect.

His father allowed himself to be touched only by his wife – only she could take his hand, stroke his cheek, sit on his lap when they thought no one could see.

He had witnessed them embrace, his father's lips pressed against her ear as he stood behind her back, his hands met with hers on her lower abdomen, stroking her skin hidden beneath her night robe, his words meant only for her.

Only once had he seen his father terrified: when his mother, standing by his side in the throne room as they listened to the lords' speeches, suddenly fainted, unaware that she was already carrying his sister in her womb at the time.

He remembered that the day had been exceptionally hot, and his mother had been feeling ill since the morning: in accordance with the agreement, neither she nor her husband could sit on the Iron Throne, so they stood before it during a gathering of the whole court.

His father, usually cool and composed in his actions, rushed towards her to catch her, and then began shouting at the guards to lead the lords out of the room and bring in the maester immediately.

Viserys sat by her bed with his younger brother, Aegon, holding her hand in his, listening in silence to the exchange between his father, the maester and his grandfather.

"The Queen Regent should not strain herself. She is expecting your child, Your Grace."

"So soon?" Mumbled his father, as if surprised – his youngest brother, Daeron, had been born only five months earlier.

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Are you surprised? Don't you know how children are brought into this world?" Daemon hissed.

Viserys and Aegon pressed their lips together, looking in horror at their father, who was staring at their grandfather wide-eyed, breathing heavily, furious.

He had never heard anyone speak to him this way before.

His father looked away as if he felt ashamed, bitter apparently at having contributed to his wife's suffering.

His mother awoke after a few hours, but she was weak and the maester ordered that she should lie in bed for a few days and gain strength.

His father gave up his daily routine to simply sit by her side, sinking into reading great volumes about the history of Essos.

He wanted to make his mother smile and lift her spirits, however, he had no idea how he could do this and was afraid to ask his father.

He decided to seek a woman's advice.

"If your mother was tired and sad, what would you give her?" He asked Alyssa, sitting with her on the grass under one of the trees. His cousin pressed her lips together, swinging her legs, lying on her stomach.

"Field flowers. Or cakes. No, some beautiful letter. Or you could recite her a poem!" She began to quickly throw out ideas, excited, her blue eyes bright and beautiful, her long white eyelashes and hair pinned up in a braid glistening in the sun.

"I'd rather it be that one thing." He muttered, not wanting to make a jester of himself in front of his father.

"Field flowers." Alyssa decided.

"How will I know which ones are the right ones?" He asked reluctantly, as a man never delving into these, in his mind, girly, tendentious matters.

He breathed a sigh of relief when his cousin suggested they go to the gardens and pick them together.

Already standing outside the door of his parents' chamber, he began to feel doubts about whether what he wanted to do was a good idea.

What if his father will think that he is weak?

That he is behaving like a little girl?

If he looks at him with disapproval and embarrassment?

"My Prince?" He heard a voice behind him and saw a smiling woman, one of his mother's servants, who had apparently brought her warm soup.

He could no longer escape or retreat, so he went inside with her.

His father rose from his seat, his face expressing cold frustration.

"Why did it take so long?" He asked, the woman lowered her head.

"Forgive me, Your Grace."

"What is it?" He turned his words to him, looking at what he held in his hands. He swallowed hard, feeling his cheeks turn red with shame.

"Flowers for my mother. I wanted to make her smile." He muttered. His father blinked, silent for a moment.

"Good. Go to her. But don't torment her for too long. She needs to rest." His father said, and he nodded quickly, feeling the hard pounding of his heart, all hot with terror.

His mother was delighted with his bouquet composed of carnations, daisies, poppies and dandelions, her warm smile and look full of tenderness made him immediately calm down.

"Thank you, sweet boy." She whispered, stroking his cheek with her soft, familiar hand. She wanted to embrace him, but he moved away involuntarily, because he didn't want her to do this in front of his father.

Nine months later, his first little sister, Visenya, was born.

He remembered only a few years of his life during which his mother had not been with child.

He did not understand why, when he already had four siblings – two brothers and two sisters – there was still a need for more to be born.

Aegon, his brother, once told him that it was because of what married couples did at night – the septon explained to him that offspring resulted from a marital, physical union.

When he was sure he was alone in the library, he read in shame a small volume devoted to the begetting of descendants. He felt disgust and discomfort when he read about a man inserting part of his body between the woman's thighs, filling her with his seed.

It sounded foreign and unpleasant, and he wondered more and more whether his mother was actually in pain and needed to experience a bit of rest.

He dared to raise the issue one day during their supper together, which was a great mistake on his part.

"Aren't you tired, Mother?" He asked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She and his father looked at him puzzled, his father having just handed her a tray of goose pate.

"What do you mean, my love?" She asked softly, as always looking at him with a tenderness and attention that made him feel safe.

He swallowed hard, looking reproachfully at his father, who was just taking a deep sip of wine, watching him vigilantly, his healthy eye shining uneasily in the firelight.

His father was mysterious, distant, beyond comprehension.

Cold.

Frightening.

"I struggle to recall a time during which you did not carry a child inside you. After all, your inheritance is secured, shouldn't you be able to rest at last?" He asked, bewildering his mother. His father pressed his lips into a thin line, frustrated by his remark, setting his cup down on the table with a loud clink of steel.

"Don't ever address me or your mother this way again. Apologise to her immediately for your inappropriate words." His father said slowly and coolly in a manner from which an unpleasant shiver ran down his spine, his eye wide open.

"Aemond." His mother turned to him, stroking anxiously her slightly rounded abdomen.

His father looked at her and licked his lower lip, silent – he knew that they communicated now, as they were sometimes in the habit of doing, by sight alone, without using words.

"Perhaps it would be appropriate for you to explain to your first-born son why I carry your child inside me again?" She asked with emphasis, her husband's lips curved in displeasure.

His father looked at him with a gaze from which he lowered his head, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart – he heard him lift the cup to his lips and take a deep sip of wine from it.

"There is no need."

Although when he was a little infant he had been in his father's arms as often as he had been in his mother's, the more he matured the more distant his father's figure seemed to become, inaccessible as a stone fortress.

They spent time together during sparring in the courtyard, where he trained him in the wielding of the sword, and while studying the language of Old Valyria, bent over old tomes.

His father was a strict and demanding teacher – although he never humiliated him or mocked him, he could see when his father was frustrated and he suffered deeply because of it.

He knew that there was only a three years left until he would be crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms and felt that he did not deserve it. It seemed to him that his father, looking at him, thought the same thing.

Compared to him, he was weak.

How could he surpass the greatest warrior in the world, able to speak as much about war as history or philosophy, knowing the language of their ancestors, riding the mighty Vhagar?

"Father does not love me." He muttered once, when they were alone in his chamber and his mother was helping him dress before they all set off for the Great Sept. She shook her head, cupping his cheeks in her hands.

"Your father loves you, Viserys. He cares about everything about you, but he can't show it." She said, looking at him in pain.

"He can show it to you, Mother." He replied reproachfully, not understanding why he did not have as much understanding and patience for him as he did for her.

She was silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the stone floor beneath his feet.

"I am his wife. We are connected by a different bond, the kind that a man and a woman share." She explained, and he pressed his lips together and shook his head.

"No. He just loves you more than any of us." He replied dryly, pulling himself out of her embrace and walked out of the chamber, fastening the buckles of his tunic himself.

He was now thirteen years old, he was already a man and his mother, no matter how much he loved her, no longer had to help him dress as if he were a small child.

One evening, as he was about to inform his parents of his decision as to the guest list for the celebration of his Name Day, he heard from behind the door of their quarters sounds that disturbed him.

It seemed to him that his mother was moaning in pain.

When he opened them quietly and peeked inside, he saw his father's body from the side, pressing his mother to the bed, his hips rocking inside her in quick, deep thrusts with loud clicks of something wet and sticky, his hand holding her cheeks between his fingers in an iron grip as he looked down at her.

Although he always wore it in their presence, now he didn't have his eye patch on his face.

"– do you like the way he looks at you? – hm? – do you think I don't see him following you with his gaze? – dreaming that it is his child that you are carrying inside you? –" He hissed maliciously, pounding into her aggressively, making his mother squirm beneath him, driving her short nails into his shoulders as if trying to defend herself.

"– n-no – no, uncle –" She mumbled, panting loudly, her breath heavy and ragged, droplets of sweat on her skin.

Why was he hurting her?

Should he scream, come inside, tell him to stop?

"– no? – maybe I should gouge his eyes out? – if he doesn't know he's a fool, that he has no fucking right to desire you –" He growled, pressing his forehead against hers, panting and moaning along with her as the bed began to creak loudly under them with each of his thrusts, his mother tilting her head back and closing her eyes, an expression on her face that he didn't understand.

"– Aemond – Aemond, Aemond, Aemond –" She cried out, pressing her husband's body against hers, crossing her legs over his bare back as if she didn't want to let him go, and after a moment they both made loud, almost animal-like sounds as if relieved, and his father's body fell on top of her without strength.

He swallowed hard, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart as he saw his father's hand brush his mother's cheek, his lips placing tender, lazy, loud kisses on her face as if she were a small child, whispering something to her.

His healthy eye opened suddenly, his pupil narrowed in shock when he saw him standing in the threshold of their chamber.

He ran away quickly, terrified, thinking his father would kill him with his own hands.

He trembled as he ran back into his chamber, sitting down on the bed, feeling that he was quivering with fear.

That his father would surely deprive him of his throne and banish him for what he had done, that he dared to look at their naked bodies like some disgusting sinner.

He shuddered and jumped up in his seat when, a moment later, the door opened and indeed his father stood in it, already wearing a shirt and breeches, his sapphire glowed in the warm firelight.

He curled into himself, prepared for his blow or scream, but his father just stood there looking at him, breathing heavily.

He sighed loudly and closed the door behind him, then walked slowly towards him, surprising him by sitting down next to him. For a moment he sat bent over, leaning on his elbows with his face hidden between his hands.

He finally looked at him and, to his surprise, he did not see rage in his gaze.

"Viserys. These are intimate moments meant only for my and your mother's eyes. What came to your mind to do this?" He said coolly but calmly.

He swallowed hard, red with shame, feeling that he was shaking, trying not to cry like a little girl out of fear.

"I thought… I thought you were hurting my mother. That's what it sounded like. Like she was in pain." He muttered.

His father pressed his lips together and licked his lower lip, then nodded.

"I see. It's good that you care about your mother's safety and want to protect her. However, know that I would never hurt her." He finally replied.

"Then why did she suffer?" He asked further trying to understand what he had actually seen.

His father sighed, picking at the cuticles around his fingernails as he always did when he felt discomfort.

"She didn't suffer. When we are very close, we experience pleasure so strong that it borders on pain."

"Is that why mother is expecting a baby again?" He asked quietly, and his father swallowed hard, tense.

"Yes."

"Is what you are doing... a sin?" He asked in a trembling voice, his father throwing him a quick, surprised look.

"No. Not when it takes place between husband and wife. It's… you cannot be closer to another human being than during this act. Me and your mother want to be as close as possible and we derive pleasure from it."

They both remained in an uncomfortable silence for a moment.

He felt that this was his chance, an opportunity to ask his father about all the things he had been unable to comprehend and had never had the courage to bring up in his presence.

"Why do you call my mother Rhaenys? After all, that is not her real name, is it?" He asked, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

His father swallowed hard, staring dully ahead, thoughtful.

"For me, it is."

"Don't you like her real name?" He continued, trying hard to get anything out of him.

"She always said she wanted to be like Rhaenys, the younger sister and also one of Aegon the Conqueror's two wives. She called herself that to frustrate me, because I always said I would rather one day have a woman like Visenya as my betrothed. She used to call herself that in the letters she sent to me."

"Letters? My mother sent you letters?" He asked, surprised, hearing about it for the first time.

His father fell silent for a long moment.

"Yes. More than fifty over eight years. I never wrote her back to any of them."

He blinked, looking at him in disbelief, feeling his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"Why? Didn't you love her back then?"

There was a kind of sadness, weariness and regret on his father's face that he saw for the first time in his life.

"Quite the opposite."

"Then why? She must have been so sad."

"She was."

He lowered his gaze, thinking with despondency that his father's mind was indeed beyond comprehension.

"When she appeared after eight years in the Red Keep, I asked her if she still wanted to marry me. And she, despite everything, still wanted to. Your mother always showed me more understanding than I deserved." He stated finally.

He nodded at his words.

"How did you know for certain that she would become your wife?" He asked uncertainly, playing with his fingers in a reflex he inherited from him. His father lowered his head, thoughtful.

"Your grandfather the King betrothed us when we were still small children." He replied.

"When you betroth me, will I also be that close to my wife?" He continued, and his father nodded.

"Yes. You will beget your offspring together and prolong your lineage." His father said.

"Will I also feel pleasure from her closeness as you feel it with my mother?" He asked uncertainly. His father pressed his lips together and scratched his chin, tense.

"I don't know."

His answer sent a cold shiver down his spine.

"I want to have a wife like you, Father. I want to love her." He whispered, thinking about Alyssa, about what he felt when he heard her light laughter, when saw her smile full of warmth and sympathy.

She was full of understanding and joy, always eager to listen to him and his, in his mind very adult, problems and musings.

It seemed to him that his father's breath had become louder, but he didn't dare look at him.

"I can't promise you that."

He squeezed his eyes shut at his words, unable to stand it any longer, warm, burning tears running down his face. He felt like a little child, but there was nothing he could do about it, because he was suffering.

"How am I going to be a King without a Queen to worship and love? How will I make you proud if I feel lonely and weak next to her? I want to be able to love someone just like you. I don't want to be alone all my life like I am now."

"You are not alone."

"I am alone. For you, I am only the effect of your pleasure and the relief of the Kingdom. You love only my mother. You see only her. You trust only her. You look only at her."

"That is not true. I watch over you even though you don't realise it. I am trying to make you strong so that the crown, when it is finally placed on your head, will not crush you. You are my first-born son. We have awaited your birth like a miracle." His father said. He shuddered when he felt his hand on his head, and then his strong arm drew him close, letting him cry into his chest.

He stroked his hair and his back the way his mother always did, feeling him place his forehead on the top of his head.

"I love you, but I cannot be weak in front of the court. You will understand me when you become king and father yourself." He said, and he nodded, snuggling into him tighter, his strong arms giving him the feeling that he was safe, that nothing threatened him.

"– my son –" He said in a way from which he felt warmth in his heart, pride and acceptance, the closeness of a man who in his eyes was closer to gods than men.

"I will not fail you, Father."

Rhaenys 

Between looking after her first-born son and bearing her husband another child, she had to focus on helping him create the Small Council from scratch. According to her mother's will, they were both to be equal rulers as regents, and her uncle did not give the impression of being humiliated by this fact.

On the contrary, he relied on her advice and opinion more than she expected.

"Daemon cannot become the Hand of The King. He is too unpredictable. We need someone who is calm and composed. Putting your mother or my brother in that position could lead to further divisions, which we don't want. The person who takes over this role should be as neutral as possible." He said, pacing around the room, immersed in his thoughts. She sighed heavily, stroking her slightly rounded belly, inside of which her second son, Aegon, was growing slowly.

He knew he was made for long disputes about the role and amount of taxes, armies, harvests and all the needs of the kingdom, analysing it for hours on end, however diplomacy was not his domain and in this aspect he left a wide berth to her.

"The Queen Who Never Was. She will take neither side. Let her husband remain the Master of Ships. Let Daemon be, as he was in your father's reign, the Master of Laws – a sign of our respect for tradition, a tribute to King Viserys, who betrothed us. Let Borros Baratheon have his place according to your agreement so that he does not undermine our marriage. He is a stern and honourable man, so let him take charge of our treasury and become the Master of Coin. Let my mother and your brother be honorary members of the Small Council, without function, of equal position."

She said, spreading out comfortably in her chair. Her husband hummed under his breath and nodded, as if he recognised that, indeed, what she was saying was logical. He stopped in half a step, looking blankly at her abdomen.

"Pillows." He muttered more to himself than to her, as if he had realised something.

She raised herself up on her elbows and blinked as he took some from their bed and walked over to her, sliding them under her back for her comfort. She smiled involuntarily at his subconscious concern.

"I am grateful to you, husband."

"My mother insists that Criston Cole remain a member of the Kingsguard, but only as her sworn protector. I have decided that Ser Harrold Westerling should be reappointed Lord Commander in his place." He said, running his fingers over her lower abdomen, swollen from his legacy.

She nodded her head at his words.

"Yes. Ser Harrold is a man of honour."

They looked at each other for a moment, somehow surprised at the ease with which they had come to discuss this.

The prospect of building the Kingdom anew and the perspective of argument and tension frightened them, they were, however, closer to each other than ever.

With the birth of her third son, Daeron, the entire Red Keep breathed a sigh of relief, resolving the last remaining tensions between the Black and Green factions.

Her son refused to leave her womb for a long time, tormenting her for hours, but finally, with the help of Alys, who had come from Dragonstone especially to accompany her through this ordeal, her dark-haired son, came into the world.

The entire court rejoiced in the thought that their three sons secured the line of succession.

It seemed to her that the Red Keep was now divided into three parts: in one, the most representative, intended for the King and Queen, she resided with her husband and their three sons; in the second lived Daemon, her mother, their sons and Joffrey; in the third resided Alicent, Aegon, Helaena and their children.

The first meeting between Alicent and Rhaenyra after the pact was established in the Great Sept was full of tears. They locked themselves alone in one of the chambers to speak to each other about everything that had happened over the years.

The fact that Aegon had condemned his grandfather to death meant that both Daemon and Rhaenyra endured the presence of his family with understanding, however they each ate their suppers separately.

They, as part of the conflict to bring peace, also ate alone, accompanied by their little sons.

Viserys was a sweet and curious child – as soon as he began to speak, he immediately began to demand that his favourite books with large, colourful illustrations depicting great dragons and kings be constantly read to him.

Aegon, however, was a stubborn and expressive: he voiced his opinions and displeasure loudly, knowing, however, where the limit of her and his father's patience lay.

Daeron, on the other hand, was a smiling and joyful infant, laughing loudly whenever he saw the faces of his brothers above the cradle tickling his belly with their fingers.

"He makes such funny sounds out of himself. Like a little puppy." Aegon said.

Their life was happy and peaceful, and she felt that she could finally breathe and have a little rest from the hardships of carrying a child.

And then, a few months after that very difficult delivery, she fainted in the throne room, losing control of her body, falling numbly to the ground.

When she awoke, she immediately smelled his familiar scent, his broad hand stroking her head.

She lifted her eyelids and saw that he lay beside her without his eye patch, his hair loose, only his shirt and breeches on his body. He was lying next to her on his side, his other hand holding a book lying on the bed between them, absorbed in his reading.

He shuddered and looked up at her as she touched his chest.

"– Rhaenys –" He whispered, closing the book, placing a warm, lingering kiss on her forehead.

"– how are you feeling? – you fainted –"

"I know. I think it's the weather. It's been so hot today, my head has been spinning since this morning." She whispered, smiling warmly at him, wanting to comfort him with the thought that it was nothing too severe.

The look on his face and the way he swallowed loudly made her feel uneasy.

"That's not what made you feel this way, my love. It's…" He began, but fell silent, pressing his lips together. She realised after a moment what he meant, a shiver of fear and discomfort ran along her spine.

"So soon?" She mumbled, her eyebrows arching in disbelief. Her husband lowered his gaze, heartbroken.

"Yes. Forgive me." He muttered. She clamped her lips together as he covered his face with his hand and drew in air loudly, as if trying not to cry. "I knew you endured it badly this time. I knew it, but I didn't think it would happen so soon."

"I know. I know." She said, pulling his head towards her, allowing him, as he always did when he was scared and tired, to snuggle his face between her breasts and take solace in the embrace of her arms.

She could hear his loud, broken breath, could hear him sniff with his nose, his broad hands clenched on the material of her nightgown at her back, seeking comfort.

"– Rhaenys –"

Although by the next day her sadness and fear had vanished, replaced by joyful anticipation of what their next child would be like, her husband still remained withdrawn and thoughtful, clearly feeling remorseful towards himself.

His openness in her presence resulting from their bond and understanding remained only in the sphere of their marriage: in her husband's eyes, she was a person whose behaviour and needs he understood perfectly, with whom he knew how to speak, around whom putting his thoughts into words came easily.

Having witnessed daily his directness and lightness in conversation at her side, the change that occurred in him was all the more striking when anyone else joined their company: his mother, his brother, some lord or even their own son.

Her uncle was deeply affected by what a heavy burden and responsibility Viserys had to carry on his shoulders. He saw himself in him: quiet and withdrawn, filled, however, with her empathy and sensibility, making him more thoughtful and sensitive to someone else's hurt.

Her husband feared that the crown and what it carried with it would crush him: he did not know how to strengthen him, make him a man without breaking his spirit.

He feared nothing more than that he would become like his father: insensitive, blind to his real needs, to his cries for help that his son could not articulate.

How similar they were didn't help them communicate: her uncle cut his discomfort with harsh, short sentences, while Viserys shut himself away, terrified of his coldness.

"He is afraid of me. I can see it in his eyes." He told her one day, undoing the buckles of his tunic, wanting to lie beside her in their bed. She looked at him with worry, stroking her rounded abdomen and swallowed quietly, lowering her gaze.

Father does not love me.

"I fear that he sees himself in your eyes as a disappointment. He cannot understand the source of your harshness and distance, which I know is due to nothing other than your fatherly concern. Nevertheless, he needs to hear a few warm words from you for once in his life." She said pleadingly, looking at him as he lay down beside her, sighing heavily. He shrugged his shoulders, pulling the eye patch off his head, throwing it carelessly somewhere on the floor, frustrated.

"What should I tell him? That I'm proud of him? That he will always be my son? He shouldn't be king if he's such a fool as not to understand that without my affectionate words." He said dryly, a clear discomfort and pain in his words, his jaw clenched in a rage whose reason she did not understand.

She stared at him dully for a moment, stunned.

"Can you hear yourself, uncle?" She asked at last, and he looked at her with a sharp, warning look that told her to be careful of her next words.

"He craves your appreciation like a thirsty person craves water. But not only that. You are his father, and he does not know you, does not comprehend your person, your behaviour."

"Good. Does he need to understand everything? It's for his own sake."

"In your mind it's easy because you know what drives you. From his perspective, you are a cold, raw stone. He told me today that you don't love him. That you don't love any of your children. That you love only me. You don't even know how much those words hurt me and I know they hurt you too, but gods, he is your firstborn son. Have an honest conversation with him. Do you think he will ever come to you for advice or support when he feels weak? He will be ashamed, he will fear your wrath and he will drown in his own despair." She said in pain, feeling a squeeze in her throat.

Her husband looked at her with clenched lips and she noticed in disbelief that his gaze was exactly the same as hers.

He wanted to cry because of what he had heard.

She pressed her forehead to his cheek, placing her hand on the place beneath where his heart was beating, and he stroked her arm with his fingers, swallowing hard.

"What he said tonight, during supper. When he suggested that you should rest. He hurt me with those words. I felt like my own son was rebuking me. As if I were a bad husband and father." He whispered in shame – she shook her head, placing a warm, moist kiss on his cheek.

She felt him twist his face, sinking his nose into her hair, his hand hugging her waist and drawing her closer to his body in a natural need for closeness.

"He doesn't understand it. He only sees my tiredness during the hot days, the pain in my back, hears my screams when I bring his siblings into the world. He doesn't know what happens when we're here, alone, or the reason for it. Just as we didn't know it when you told me you wished to have seven children, just as there are seven gods."

Her husband accepted her words in his heart, and she hoped that with this, he and their son would finally speak honestly with each other.

Apart from that, there was one more thing that was occupying her mind – his Name Day.

Her husband did not like to celebrate this day because of unpleasant memories from the past and she wanted to change that at last. She knew that he despised pompous, grand feasts and dances, so she had no intention of giving him a surprise that would make him unhappy.

She did, however, want to give him something completely different.

A written and lavishly illustrated book on the history of Aegon the Conqueror and his two wives in one gigantic volume, bound in red dyed leather decorated with gold, made especially at her request.

She wanted to give him something that would delight and move him at the same time, ordering the scribe to put a quote on the first page from the philosopher and poet, Areon, whose book she had borrowed from him that day when she kissed him for the first time.

Turn behind me, companion

see if I am at your side

The darkness frightens me

but you are like a torch

with your light I will not die

In order for the surprise to remain a surprise, the request could not pass directly through her hands, hence she asked one of the guards for help, which, however, proved to be a big mistake on her part.

She thought at first that the man's open and eager approach was due to his friendly, warm nature. He agreed to help her and reported to her what stage the work was at, assuring her that the book would be done on time.

The first worrying signs began to reach her consciousness when she noticed that Ser Brandon was looking at her while he was guarding the chamber during the Small Council meetings in a way that made her uncomfortable.

She feared that he had perceived her proposal in an ambiguous manner thinking that it was merely an excuse to get close to him.

To her horror, his surreptitious, shameless glances were noticed by her husband.

"– are you fucking him? –" Her uncle asked as soon as they crossed the threshold of their chamber, grasping her cheeks in his fingers warningly, his eye wide in rage, making cold sweat run down her spine.

"– n-no – never – I –" She mumbled, feeling that her heart was pounding like mad – she moaned, surprised, as his swollen, wet lips pressed against hers in a hot, aggressive kiss.

"– I'll kill you if you lie –" Her growled into her mouth, his slick, moist tongue forcing its way again and again down her throat with quick, impatient, furious clicks as he made her retreat towards their bed with every step.

"– I swear, husband –" She exhaled wearily and squealed as he pushed her onto the bed, making her fall onto her back. He stared at her as if completely mad, breathing heavily, undoing the buckles of his tunic with aggressive swipes of his hand.

"– undress –" He hissed furiously, throwing the material of his garment to the floor, pulling his shirt off his chest, ripping his eye patch from his face a moment later. She nodded her head quickly, feeling her heart in her throat as he climbed onto the bed, placing his knees on either side of her body.

Whenever he was terrified he spoke in this dramatic way, as if he wanted to show her that her betrayal would be the end of his and her life.

She couldn't help how much it aroused her, his desperation and how much he needed her, his feigned aggression only for her to soothe him, for her body to reassure him that he was wrong.

She tried to untie the bonds of her gown as quickly as she could, however, it was not easy – her husband paid no attention to the delicate knots at her sleeves and literally ripped the fabric off her in a gesture that was more animal than human.

"– uncle –" She whimpered pleadingly as his hot, swollen lips pressed into hers again with his loud groan of pleasure and rage, her hand sliding lower to the material of his breeches, finding his hard, throbbing erection beneath them at last.

"– fuck – spread your thighs wide – that's it –" He breathed out, and she obeyed his command without a word, watching with excitement as the black leather material slid down his legs, leaving him wonderfully naked, just like her.

She cried out loudly, clasping her hands over his bare buttocks and back as he immediately stretched her swollen opening on the fat head of his erection, a low, helpless sigh escaping from their throats.

"– A-Aemond – mghmm –" She cried out, trying hard to fit in what he was forcing her to take, his manhood pulsing all over deep inside her, betraying how close he was to fulfilment, how aroused he was by what had just happened between them.

She, at his mercy.

She began to moan when he immediately imposed a fast, sharp, aggressive pace on her, his hips rolling to the rhythm of her body, thrusting again and again deep between her warm, leaking folds, despite the initial difficulty welcoming him with ease.

They both lost their temper, falling into a complete frenzy, their naked, sticky bodies slamming against each other with loud splats of their shared moisture.

"– do you like the way he looks at you? – hm? – do you think I don't see him following you with his gaze? – dreaming that it is his child that you are carrying inside you? –" He hissed through clenched teeth, gripping her cheeks again with his fingers, the thrusts of his hips teasing again and again the little bud inside her made it difficult for her to gather her thoughts: she was only able to look at his face, his lips parted in lust, his gaze filled with rage and love at the same time.

"– n-no – no, uncle –" She mumbled out with difficulty, her breath heavy as her fingers tightened on his naked, sweaty shoulders, her puffy nipples rubbing against the skin of his chest with his every thrust making the tension in her lower abdomen slowly reach its peak.

"– no? – maybe I should gouge his eyes out? – if he doesn't know he's a fool, that he has no fucking right to desire you –" He growled, pressing his forehead against hers, panting into her mouth, their hips coming up to meet each other in a desperate attempt to achieve fulfilment, her hands clamped down on his buttocks, again and again guiding his soaked, fat erection deep inside her.

"– Aemond – Aemond, Aemond, Aemond –" She cried out, tilting her head back, feeling a sudden wave of hot, tickling pleasure and relief surge through her nipples, through her lips, the tips of her fingers and her little cunt, which began to squeeze him greedily, her legs crossed over his back, refusing to let him pull away.

Her husband let out a low, helpless, almost animalistic groan and reached his peak inside her, filling her silky insides, clenching around his twitching manhood, with his seed. He fell on top of her after a moment without strength, his hand stroking her cheek hot with emotion.

"– it's not your fault – he's been watching you for weeks –" He whispered, placing tender, gentle, moist kisses on her face.

"– I swear to you that he is already… –" He sighed and froze suddenly, his body tensed in her embrace.

"– hm? –" She asked sleepily, struggling to open her eyes, trying to calm herself down after what she had just experienced.

"– fuck – Viserys –" He muttered horrified, pulling out of her quickly and grabbing his breeches, putting them on his legs.

"– what? –" She asked, rising up on her elbows, not understanding what had frightened him so suddenly, only noticing after a moment that the door to their chamber was slightly ajar.

"– has he seen us? Aemond, don't do anything foolish, don't shout at him! –" She called after him in despair as he put on his shirt in a careless, quick motion and left their chamber, closing the door behind him. She pulled her nightgown over herself, stroking her swollen abdomen with her hand, thinking about what to do.

After many minutes that felt like an eternity she became impatient, scared and tired, wondering why it had taken so long, whether she should go there and react.

She jumped up in her seat, feeling her heart in her throat when finally her uncle returned to their chamber, pale, his eye wide open. He cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed.

"We were just having a conversation. Like father and son." He assured her, seeing the look on her face as he headed towards their bed, laying down powerlessly on the sheets.

She immediately moved towards him, laying down beside him, pressing her forehead against his exactly as she had when they were children.

Her husband rubbed the tip of his nose against hers.

"You were right. It helped. He opened up to me and I opened up to him. I feel lighter." He whispered quietly, as if he was telling her his embarrassing little secret.

She smiled involuntarily at his words, placing her hand on his back.

"I'm so happy."

Her uncle hummed at her words, a gleam in his eye that she knew all too well.

"I also paid a short visit to the guard who finds it so pleasant to look at my wife. We discussed this… matter properly." He murmured, tucking an unruly strand of her hair behind her ear, causing a cold, wonderful shiver to pass through her.

"It turns out he's very attached to his two eyes."

[generalllimaginesss]

"I'm not letting you drive home in this condition” with Nico. I feel like he gives off protective energy. I’m imagining friends to lovers vibes. He falls first but they’re best friends. Maybe they met when he joined the Devils. Like randomly met somewhere and have been close ever since. And she has a really bad day at work. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. And she’s crying driving home and drives to his instead because she doesn’t want to be alone. Maybe he makes dinner (idk if this man can cook tbh) and then she’s still upset but tries to leave so he can get on with his night and he insists she stay because he doesn’t want her driving upset. And that’s when she realizes she’s in love with him. Like she drove to his place unannounced because she knew he was the only one who could comfort her and the only one she wanted to go to.

I’ve realized that I’m a sucker for Nico. He gives off golden retriever vibes and I feel like he would be such a nice person to be friends with. I hope you like it!!

••

You didn’t realize when you picked up your friends shift, now making you a double, that you would make very little money and the tables that you served were horrible. Not to mention your anxiety was at an all time high while you were waiting on a letter to tell you if you were accepted into the graduate program to your dream school. When all of these emotions combine, it makes for a shitty day.

Twelve hours after you clocked in, you were only up $150 dollars and finally were able to leave, your last table staying almost an hour after closing. There was dried sauces all over your uniform, your hair was disgusting, and you just felt heavy. With your emotions clouding your judgement, all you wanted to do was go to sleep.

As you made your way to your car that was parked behind the restaurant you worked at, a couple of notifications from your email caught your eye. The emails came from the two schools that you were betting your future on…

You decided it could hold off, the tears burning the corner of your eyes took priority, and you didn’t know if you could handle what the emails revealed.

While running your hands through your tangled mess of hair, tears freely fell, the product of being completely exhausted. The one person that kept flashing in your mind, however, was Nico. The devils played Anaheim and you weren’t able to keep up with the score, so you wanted to congratulate him on the win.

As much as you hated your job, you always reminded yourself that it was temporary, and most of all that without it you wouldn’t have Nico. The one person in the world that felt as lonely as you at one point on a rainy afternoon 6 years ago.

When Nico had first gotten to New Jersey, he didn’t feel close to anybody. Sure, he was the first overall draft pick. Sure, people loved him. But at the end of the day he felt like he had nobody. He felt like he had to keep this persona of “Mr. Tough Guy” up to prove himself.

He found himself all alone in the restaurant you work at, managing to snag you as a server. He must’ve sat at your table for hours, always finding something else to talk about every time you checked on him. He stayed until you got off and proposed the idea of going out to grab a drink or two, to which you happily obliged, finally hopeful that you found a friend.

Where Nico felt lonely in hockey, you felt lonely in school. Making friends in college was hard, especially when you’re from out of state and aren’t in Greek Life or in any extracurriculars. Your roommate and you had hardly had 10 conversations in the first year you lived together, so your studies became your main priority.

When Nico and you realized that you had a lot more in common than you thought, the friendship just developed naturally. When you were off work you supported him at his games. When he had a day off he helped you make flash cards and study. And on the rare chance that you both had nothing to do, movie nights were your thing.

Six years later and he was your very best friend. You told him everything. Every detail of your life was known by Nico and vice versa. You weren’t dependent on Nico for emotional support, but he was sweet to have around.

Tonight, however, was going to be one of those nights where you just needed somebody. You just needed Nico.

The tears cleared your eyes long enough for you to send Nico a quick text letting him know that you were headed to his apartment. He immediately responded with a thumbs up.

While you were driving, just about every depressing Olivia Rodrigo and Gracie Abram song played, reminding you of your relationship that had ended almost a month ago. You felt bad because Nico already had to deal with the mess you were then, and here you are again. Driving to his apartment, an emotional wreck and tired of the world.

You parked beside his car and walked up the flight of stairs that led to his door. You barely were able to knock when he opened the door and saw the state you were in. He could tell that you had been crying, probably only stopping when you parked, and that you needed somebody.

“Come here,” he held his arms opened in the doorway, enveloping you in the coziest embrace, the smell of his body wash lingering from his shower. Since he towered over you, he gently held your head against his chest and rested his head on yours, placing light pecks to the crown of your head.

He held you like that until you pulled away and made your way completely into his apartment, him closing and locking the door behind you.

He watched quietly as you made yourself at home, taking your shoes off and untucking your shirt from your pants. He chuckled to himself when he saw that you were wearing completely mismatched socks. He loved the quirky things that you did.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to congratulate you on the win,” your voice was nasally since you had been crying so hard and your nose was stopped up.

Nico smiled sadly, not wanting to make you feel worse, but aware he should probably tell you the truth.

“We lost, actually. Five to one.”

You groaned, disappointed in yourself that you didn’t bother to look up the score to make sure they won.

“I’m sorry. I worked a double and wasn’t able to watch. I just assumed with Anaheim’s record that you all would win.”

“Yeah, well, it just didn’t end up in our favor. They played pretty physical. You should go back and watch it,” He winked at you, a smile stretching from one corner of his mouth.

“But anyways, what’s wrong? I know you didn’t come here to just congratulate me on ‘winning,” he looked you up and down, taking note of the exhaustion that spewed from you.

“It just wasn’t a good day. I didn’t make money and then on the way over here music that reminded me of-” You tried to finish, but Nico immediately cut you off, reminding you of a relatively new rule that he had made.

“We don’t speak his name,” his eyebrows raised, warning you to not finish your sentence.

You sighed, “Ok, well you know who I’m referring to.”

Nico walked to his sofa, plopping down and patting the spot beside him , offering it to you. You happily obliged, tucking one leg underneath you and the other tucked into your chest.

“They emailed me back…the schools,” you announced, to which Nico instantly perked up.

“And? Did you get in?” A part of him wanted to see you live your dream, but he knew that with you getting into your dream school would mean you would be leaving New Jersey. More specifically, leaving him. The thought of not having you only 15 minutes away made him want to punch a wall. He had let himself fall for you, knowing that while New Jersey was home for him, it was merely a checkpoint for you. It was one step closer to you taking off in life.

“I didn’t look. I’m scared to,” You admitted, pulling out your phone and handing it to him.

“Please read it for me.”

He clicked on the email, his expression hard to read.

He didn’t want to read the news to you. He didn’t want to be the one that told you that you had been waitlisted by the two schools you were betting on, but he knew it was better for him to read it to you than you read it alone.

When you figured he had ample time to read both emails and he wasn’t telling you anything, a pit in your stomach began to take place. Tears quickly puddled, spilling over your bottom eyelid as if they were a never ending fountain.

“I didn’t get in, did I?” Your voice broke, in return breaking a little piece of Nico.

“Waitlisted by both, but that’s not a no,” He tried to make you feel better, but when your body started shaking and the tears turned into sobs, he knew you needed to be held. He obliged, wrapping his arm around your side, pulling you closer to him and rubbing your side soothingly.

You instinctively laid your head on his side, wanting to curl into him as closely as you could, as if he could protect you from everything that’s wrong in the world. Everything that felt like it was out to get you.

“Have you had anything to eat?” He knew as soon as he asked it that you wouldn’t want to eat. He also knew that if you had been working all day that you wouldn’t take the time to stop and eat.

He felt you shake your head side to side, confirming what he already knew.

“I was about to make a quick dinner. I was thinking breakfast? Maybe some pancakes, eggs and bacon?” He ran his fingers through your hair, deciding to take your ponytail holder out and place it on his wrist. You sighed, the relief from the tension of your ponytail helping you feel slightly better.

“Please,” you said, knowing he was going to ask you if you wanted some either way. No matter if you made it into your dream schools or not, you still had to eat.

Nico slowly peeled himself off the couch, finally realizing how exhausted he was. Back-to-back games finally catching up with him.

You followed him to the kitchen, claiming stake to one of the barstools, watching him as he began to prepare the food.

“I know you probably don’t know, but what’s your backup plan? Are you going to apply to other schools?” He asked, cracking eggs into a bowl with pancake mix.

“No. I’ll have to wait until next year. I’m stuck here for another year, Nico,” your voice was strained and scratchy, but he understood you.

“That’s not all bad is it? I mean I’m here,” he attempted to make you laugh, but it was to no avail.

“My roommate is moving back home and I literally have no one else who I think I could room with. We both planned on this being it for Jersey,” you laughed, not out of humor, but at the thought of how much has gone wrong in 12 hours.

“What about staying with me?” He asked the question before he could catch himself. Would you see straight through to his true feelings for you, or would you just think he was extending a friendly offer to one of his friends who needed a little help.

“Nico, why the hell would you want me to move in with you? Have you met me?” Your puffy eyes made eye contact with his sweet ones.

Oh, how absolutely clueless you were. It would have been cute had it not been his feelings for you in the mix.

“You’re not that bad. I’ve definitely had worse roommates.” He smiled as he flipped the pancakes on the griddle and placed the eggs in a pan on the stove to cook.

“I can’t accept your pity offer,” you reached across the counter for a paper towel to catch the snot that was creeping out of your nose.

“Don’t think of it as a pity offer. Think of it as…what’s that word for when it’s not a parasite, but both things benefit?” He looked to the ceiling as if it held the answer to his missing word.

You laughed, finding it cute that he sometimes can’t think of the right English word he’s looking for.

“Mutualism?” You pitch the word to him, to which he points to you enthusiastically.

“That! Think of it as that. I mean, I could use a little help around here,” he motioned to his apartment.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that. I’d have to think about it,” Your tears were becoming manageable with him trying to make you feel better. You’d internally think about everything that went wrong and tears would brim again, but when Nico talked it made it better.

“Well think about it,” he said, his bacon looking a tiny bit burnt as he transferred it from the pan to a dish to serve to you along with some scrambled eggs and a pancake.

You began to dig in to the food, Nico following close behind you as he fixed his plate and sat beside you. The two of you ate in silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but a peaceful silence. It allowed for you to think and for him to think about you. He wanted to feel sad about you not getting into the graduate program, but a whole extra year with you? He couldn’t be too upset.

The two of you finished eating and washed your dishes, putting them up, Nico returning to the living room on the sofa and you putting your shoes back on.

“What are you doing?” Nico asked, his eyebrows raised inquisitively as he watched you tie your shoes.

“I’ve got to go home,” you said as you stretched your back.

“I’m not letting you drive home in this condition,” He started, ready to pitch his case for you to stay the night.

“You’re tired, upset, and you don’t need to be by yourself right now. Stay with me,” His eyes were practically begging you, but his tone was stern, evident that he would not be budging.

“I have no clothes-”

“I have some t-shirts.”

“I need to wash my hair and I have no shampoo or conditioner.”

“Nina left some here, use hers,” Nico had a solution to all of your excuses, making you realize that there really wasn’t a reason why you couldn’t spend the night.

“Just stay,” His voice was barely above a whisper, wrapping itself around your heart as you caved into him.

“Fine,” you sighed.

He showed you where all of Nina’s products were and laid out one of his old t-shirts on the counter in the bathroom. It was long enough to be a dress on you, swallowing you whole.

He ran the water for you and left you in the bathroom by yourself, causing you to let out a few silent sobs before getting in the shower, letting the hot water wash away the things you have no control over. You tried to think about the positives. You had Nico for another year.

Nico. Nico Hischier that held up your table all of those years ago. Nico Hischier that helped you study for every stupid exam you had. Nico Hischier that always ran to you first after every home game. Your Nico. Your best friend. The one that always had an open shoulder for you to cry on and open arms when you needed a hug.

Did guys treat girls like this that they just loved as friends? You sure as hell had never had one like him.

While thinking about all that Nico has been there for, tears begin to fall. It hit you like a ton of bricks, the possibility that Nico could be more than a friend. Would he feel the same? Would these newly discovered feelings be the downfall of your friendship?

Just as quick as the feelings surfaced, you shut it down. Nico meant too much to you for you to lose him over selfish feelings. Everything was perfect with him and your stupid little crush would not ruin that.

While you continued to shower, Nico changed the sheets on his bed, putting on fresh ones from the dryer so that you would be warm when you got in. He decided he would take the couch.

The smile that he had hidden while consoling you appeared as he prepared his apartment for you for the night. He thought about the possibility that you might move in with him, relishing in the idea that he could see you everyday when he woke up and at night when he went to sleep. Never ending movie nights and having his best friend 24/7…what possibly could be better?

You being his girlfriend. Would that come in time? Did he need to tell you his feelings or keep them to himself?

He had always been able to conceal his feelings, the fear of losing you greater than the pain of only being your friend. That had worked out fine, but when you rounded the corner of the hallway into the living room with his shirt hanging right above your knees and a pair of his long socks bunched on your leg, his breath hitched.

He let his eyes take in everything about you. The way your hair curled at the nape of your neck from the water, the random bruises that decorated your legs from being clumsy, a few pimples that dusted your face, only visible when your makeup was not, the random bit of mascara that you hadn’t managed to wash off.

He wanted you. He wanted you forever. He wanted you as his wedding date, his girl at the games. He wanted to share holidays with you, exchange anniversary gifts and plan birthday parties with you.

Everything in life he wanted to do with you.

“I can’t do this anymore,” He announced as he walked over to your small frame.

You were confused, about to open your mouth to ask him what he meant, but as soon as you realized he was leaning down to kiss you, your eyes grew wide in shock. His kiss cleared up what he meant.

He cupped your face with his hands, each thumb resting on your cheekbones as he very slightly pulled you closer to him.

Your lips moved in synch, making up for years of him loving you.

He noticed that you had a chapped spot on your lip, but he didn’t mind. The taste of strawberries from your lipstick from earlier lingered, causing him to deepen the kiss, never wanting to forget that taste.

You pulled away, needing to breathe. His eyes were still the soft brown ones that you loved, but you could tell that they looked at you differently from how you thought they did. Just standing in a t shirt and socks, they made you feel like the prettiest girl in the world.

A smile pulled at your lips, causing him to follow, his dimple making an appearance on his face. His scruff itched your face, but you didn’t mind.

“I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that I’m upset you didn’t get into school because I’m not. Call me selfish or whatever, but I need you. You keep me grounded. I want you here with me. Move in here, find something to do while you wait to reapply. I just know there’s nobody else that I love the way I love you,” he ended his confession with a kiss to your forehead.

“Ok,” You whispered, not wanting the warmth of his body to ever be far from you.

“I love you, little lady. A lot more than you realize,” He smirked at the blush that spread across your cheeks, the rosy pink that highlighted your skin revealing the effect that this boy has on you.

He pulled you into him, hugging you as if you would be gone any second and he couldn’t let you go.

When he finally did let you go, you both hopped into his bed and began watching Harry Potter, starting with The Prisoner of Azkaban since he knew that was your favorite one.

You fell asleep first, your head resting on his chest as he scratched your back. When he noticed the soft snores escaping your mouth, he smiled to himself. This was how it was meant to be. You and him.

*

*

*

*

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

Leaving out how shitty of person Sakura is and how she literally never grows up. She was nasty at 8, nasty at 16, and continued to be nasty in her 30s when she became a parent...

People who genuinely don't like Sakura aren't sitting there disparaging her body, hair, or forehead. They're calling into question how her one goal in life was to become the wife of a boy she continued to disrespect for years. How she didn't take her job seriously and put her team in danger because of it, despite no one forcing her to become a ninja. How she continues to treat her own friends and even her daughter terribly.

Emotions?

You mean where she consistently invaded someone's personal space, refused to take NO for an answer, and then made his trauma about her contrived feelings?

Or how she invalidates everyone else's feelings in favor of her own and manipulates even her child's father, so he won't learn the truth of her behavior at home?

Ideals?

You mean the obsession with her looks and not training until Sasuke and Naruto almost die in front of her?

Or how even after that she didn't start taking things seriously until Sasuke left?

Or what about when all her character growth vanished because she got the chance to see Sasuke again and just stopped being helpful in the canon story and went back to being selfish and rude?

Dreams & Goals?

You mean the desire to be Sasuke's wife regardless of how many times he's pushed her away, told her she was annoying, and avoided her?

Or how her obsession with him was so intense she had to try and guilt trip him in the middle of a war for the sake of the world, into confessing non-existent love to her all because SHE claimed to love him?

Or how she was so attached to being an Uchiha wife that she wears his mon like a badge of honor on all of her clothes when he can't even force himself to wear it or even return to the village to see her and his kid.

Relationships?

You mean where she got the guy in the end, but still decided to be a sob story who did everything alone and then complained about getting no help?

You mean where she was hoping with everything in her being, that her new teammate would insult her supposed best friend too so she would be just as hurt?

Or is it how her obsession with a guy was so intense that she drugged her entire team and left them unconscious in enemy territory just so she could go off to see him to 'kill him' but still needed her drugged teammate to come and save her from being killed by him instead?

Or what about when she broke off her first ever friendship over her obsession simply because of hearsay?

Or what about when she taped her picture over the picture of her husband's friend, and then got angry because her daughter found out and dared to ask questions about it, so she threw a super punch at the space by her kid's feet and took the whole house down in the process?

Or what about that time where she was heavenly pregnant and decided to charge into a very dangerous situation, all for the sake of pride and not being left in her teammate's shadows as usual, and then literally put herself and her unborn child at risk?

Abilities & Strengths?

You mean how her stans try to act like she's surpassed her master by 17, and is better than every other woman in the series when she keeps getting curb-stomped and still needs to be saved by everyone else?

Like, no one is arguing that she hasn't improved as a ninja, cuz it's pretty damn obvious she did, but when y'all sit there being like, 'she's a goddess and Hinata sucks!' are you really being truthful? The enhanced punches aren't helping her all that much so all she's got is healing and even then, she's still not the best at it by adulthood. And she hasn't exactly made a name for herself as she never got out of her teammate's shadows... because she wasn't serious when it mattered.

Y'all brag about how 'Sakura won' when comparing her marriage to Ino's as if Ino isn't in a happy relationship. As if Ino doesn't have a good family unit and that Sai isn't a good father. Sasuke won't come back to the village and only talks to Naruto. Sasuke has never kissed Sakura but HAS kissed Naruto and a Dinosaur of all things. Sasuke didn't even know what his daughter looked like when he met her. When Sakura got stabbed while standing beside him, he didn't care, but when it happened to Naruto he asked after Naruto's well-being. Sakura got the guy she always salivated over, but she didn't actually win anything.

Your consistent need to degrade Hinata and Ino as characters to 'prove' that Sakura is somehow better than them, is also sus. Objectively, they have more character growth and better motivations, and while they might not be super strong and can't punch a house to smithereens in a tantrum, they're far better characters and have better relationships with the people in their lives.

But yeah. People not liking SH for all of these things that make up her character, means they are misogynists.

[lewki]

@lewishamilton: It’s been a crazy few days which have been filled with a whole range of emotions.

But as you all now know, after an incredible 11 years at Mercedes-AMG PETRONAS F1 Team, the time has come for me to start a new chapter in my life and I will be joining Scuderia Ferrari in 2025.

I feel incredibly fortunate, after achieving things with Mercedes that I could only have dreamed of as a kid, that I now have the chance to fulfil another childhood dream. Driving in Ferrari red.

Mercedes has been a huge part of my life since I was 13 years old, so this decision has been the hardest I’ve ever had to make. I’m incredibly proud of all that we’ve achieved together and I’m very grateful for the hard work and dedication of everyone I have worked with over the years and of course Toto, for his friendship, guidance and leadership. Together we have won titles, broken records and become the most successful Driver-Team partnership in F1 history. And of course I cannot forget Niki who was a huge supporter and who I still miss everyday.

I must also share my huge appreciation to the whole of the Mercedes-Benz board and everyone at the company in Germany and around the world for supporting me over these 26 years.

But the time is right to make a change and take on a new challenge. I still remember the feeling of taking a leap of faith into the unknown when I first joined Mercedes in 2013. I know some people didn’t understand it at the time but I was right to make the move then and it’s the feeling I have again now. I’m excited to see what I can bring to this new opportunity and what we can do together.

However, right now, I’m not thinking about 2025. My focus is on the upcoming season and getting back out on track with Mercedes. I am more driven than ever, I am fitter and more focussed than than ever and I want to help Mercedes win once again. I am 100% committed to the job I need to do and determined to end my partnership with the team on a high.

Thank you to all of you who have been on this journey with me, you have all lifted me up as I chase my dreams and I hope I can continue to make you proud. As always, sending you my love and positive energy.

[emiliaalonsosainz31]

secret Feelings - OP81 x Y/N

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Y/N

warnings: nothing except pure fluff (maybe a bit angsty tbh)

Summary: Y/N is torn about confessing her feelings to her close friend, Oscar, during a birthday party. Despite her fears, she decides to tell him. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Authors Note: Please note that English is not my native language, so please be kind. It hasn't been proofread. I am open to any suggestions, ideas, comments, or criticism:) Thx for reading <3 

Does he know? Does he not know? Should I tell him? Or should I wait and hope he figures it out himself? Would he even notice? Maybe he already knows and ignores it because he doesn't feel the same… Ohhh nooooo. We’re not thinking about that now, Y/N! This is Oscar – if he didn’t at least have some feelings for you, he wouldn’t be so close to you all the time. He wouldn’t always save a seat for you next to him, or put his hands on your shoulders when he stands behind you. He wouldn’t regularly try to make eye contact at social events to check if you’re okay, and above all, you wouldn’t talk on the phone every day.

I look beside me. Oscar and I are sitting in the garden with friends, celebrating a birthday. The sun is setting, and the last golden rays of the day shine through Oscar’s light brown hair. His cute side profile looks even better in this light. I just sit there and watch him with a slight smile on my face. Since he started driving for McLaren in Formula 1, he’s been traveling a lot, and moments like these, where I can just look at him in peace, are rare. That’s why I cherish this one even more. He’s living his dream, and I couldn’t be prouder of him! Oscar and I have known each other for about 1 ½ years, and I’ve had a small crush on him for just as long. Okay… maybe a big crush, but that’s not important.

He turns his head towards me and sees me smiling. He smiles back and takes my hand, which is resting on my lap, in his.

Oscar leans slightly towards me. “Everything okay, Y/N?”

I look into his eyes and nod. “Yeah, I can’t complain about anything!”

“That’s very good... yeah, really good. Um, I’d like to take a walk around the block before I leave later, just to stretch my legs a bit before I drive back to Oxford. Will you join me?” he asks with a friendly grin on his lips. I say I’ll come, and follow him out of the garden. Oscar offers me his arm, saying, “Would the lady care to link arms?”

“I’d never say no to that offer!”

I link my arm with his, and we walk a few meters in silence. It’s a very comfortable silence. I don’t think I’ve ever had an awkward silence with Oscar because he exudes such calm that you can just enjoy the moment without talking. It’s really good for me, and I notice that every time, as do the people around us. I’m very excitable and emotional. I talk a lot, and when I’m nervous or stressed, I can be quite exhausting. In those moments, Oscar is always my anchor. Even though I’m a very outgoing and extroverted person, I often need a retreat to recharge and feel safe. And that safe place is definitely the man walking next to me.

Oscar looks down at me with a slight frown, half-hidden by a strand of hair on his forehead.

“Are you sure everything’s okay? You’ve been so quiet and lost in thought all day. That’s not like you at parties,” he says with a slightly worried tone.

We’ve gotten closer over the past few months, but I’m afraid of losing what we have if I tell him I feel more than just friendship. I look away slightly, blinking away the small tears that come at the thought of possibly losing him. He stops, stands in front of me, and turns my face towards him with his hand.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Please talk to me, I’m really starting to worry, sweetie.”

I look into his eyes, which now seem very concerned. There’s no way out of this now, and I have to tell him. “Osc… I… there’s actually something on my mind,” I say, sniffling. A few small tears escape from the corners of my eyes. “Please don’t be mad or put off. I really don’t want to lose you, you mean too much to me. But not just as a friend, more than friends, if you know what I mean. I really, really like you. But I understand if you don’t feel the same way. Oh God, of course you don’t feel the same way, but I hope I don’t lose you because of this. Why am I even saying this? I’m just ruining everything. Oh God, oh God...,” I ramble, tears streaming down my cheeks. Oscar looks at me and starts laughing. First quietly, then louder. 

Wow, I expected many reactions, but not this. My sad expression turns into a slightly angry and confused one. Just as I’m about to turn and leave, Oscar grabs my arm and turns me back to him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. That reaction wasn’t the best choice. But did you really think I didn’t know? It took exactly two weeks, and my friends were already telling me about the hearts in your eyes when you look at me. And from that point on, I couldn’t miss them either. And don’t worry, I feel the same way. I know how insecure you get with deep feelings. I’m the same way. That’s why I didn’t want to pressure you and just let things develop naturally between us. So no, I’m not mad, I’m not put off, and you definitely won’t lose me, quite the opposite. Did you really think I wouldn’t feel the same way?”

I exhale in relief and nervously wring my hands before Oscar takes them in his.

“Somehow, I knew you felt something for me because the way you are with me is different from how you are with your other friends. But I couldn’t be sure. And oh God, was I really that obvious? How embarrassing. I’m sorry. But you have no idea how happy I am that you feel the same way. I should have done this much earlier, with the whole open communication about feelings and stuff.”

“Yeah, there are a few things I would have liked to do much earlier...”

I raise my eyebrows questioningly as his face gets closer to mine. Oscar looks into my eyes and then at my lips. His gaze keeps shifting between the two. My heart starts to beat faster, and my mouth goes dry. His lips meet mine, and my eyes close. It’s an explosion of emotions, and I kiss him back. Our small kiss turns into more until we hear cheering and clapping from behind us. Oscar pulls away from me and laughs as he looks behind me. I turn around and see some of our friends a few meters away, grinning widely. They’re whistling and clapping, shouting cheers.

“Seems like this conversation wasn’t just overdue for us, right?” Oscar says, laughing as he wraps an arm around me.

“Yeah, and obviously I wasn’t as subtle with my feelings as I thought. Haha, I really need to work on that!”

“No! You never need to hide your feelings again, they’re far too precious!”

He leans down and gives me a very heartfelt kiss on the forehead.

[mynicosensesaretingling]

Lost in the moment (part 2)

Nico Rosberg x fem!reader

Summary: After their friendship ended unexpectedly, Nico and (Y/N) continued their lives on different paths, but what happens when they meet again? (part 2 of 2)

Warnings: Once again a little angst, female reader

Note: I was honestly surprised how well the first part of this fic was received. Thank you all so much for your feedback!

(part 2 of 2)

Find part 1 here: https://www.tumblr.com/mynicosensesaretingling/733720166569033728/lost-in-the-moment-part-1?source=share

Hope you enjoy <3

The years that followed were a relentless storm for both Nico and (Y/N), each navigating their separate paths with the ghost of their past lingering.

Nico’s championship victory and the soon-following retirement propelled him into the dazzling spotlight of Formula 1, becoming a charismatic figure both on and off the race track.

However, the memory of that final race continued to linger in the back of his mind, a bittersweet victory tainted by the absence of someone he had considered a confidante. Someone he had loved. Of course, he had seen the notifications of her calls once the celebrations had stopped. But whereas at first, he didn’t call her back simply out of spite and having been hurt, the more time went by, the more he feared actually hearing her speak his suspicions of having been betrayed into existence.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) on the other hand, had to face the daunting task of fighting her way back into the world of reporting. Having lost her job at Countdown Magazine , the young woman found herself feeling lost in the working world. The void left by Formula 1 was a constant ache, a reminder of the dreams she once had to forfeit and the pain of not having been there for Nico during his triumphant moment was an emotional wound that refused to heal, casting a lingering shadow on her achievements. However, she found that her luck hadn't completely run out, for after a few unsuccessful jobs, she was offered a position as a reporter for a small, upcoming motorsport journal called The Racing Project.

Although over the years both Nico and (Y/N)  followed a similar career path, their paths did not actually cross until the much-anticipated Las Vegas Grand Prix.

The stage was set, the racetrack buzzing with fervour, as Nico stood filming a live segment in the paddock, delivering his commentary with practised ease. The cameras captured every word he spoke, but his mind was elsewhere. As he scanned the crowd, his eyes unexpectedly fell upon a familiar figure- (Y/N).

Time seemed to halt, the cacophony of the racing world drowned by a flood of memories and emotions. Nico’s heart quickened its pace, a turbulent storm surging within him. The very sight of his former friend, after all these years, sent his thoughts spiralling into a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. 

The ex-racer stumbled over his words, a subtle tremor in his voice betraying the storm of emotions raging inside him. “And…and as we witness this….um, remarkable race unfolding before us,” he managed to continue, though the words suddenly felt foreign on his tongue.

Nico couldn’t tear his gaze from (Y/N)’s form, caught between the past and present. The weight of their shared history bore down on him, each moment they had shared flashing through his mind like a movie reel. His eyes conveyed a mixture of surprise, longing and a hint of regret for the years of silence, that had separated them.

The subtle changes in Nico’s demeanour didn’t go unnoticed by the camera and crew. His usual composed demeanour wavered, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability surfacing in his eyes. The inner conflict that churned within him was evident to those who knew him well, a battle between the duties of the present and the ghosts of the past.

As the blond shrugged to maintain his composure, the words of the commentary became a blur as the realization that (Y/N) was back in his life hit him. He tried to regain his focus, attempting to steer the commentary back on track, but the presence of (Y/N) in the crowd continued to pull at the threads of his composure.

 It wasn’t until the segment was finally finished, that Jenson, who had moderated the segment along with Nico and was well aware of the history between him and the female reporter, leaned in and whispered, “I didn't know that (Y/N) is working as a Formula 1 reporter again after her sudden release just before your championship race.”

Jenson’s statement led revelation to hit Nico like a tidal wave. The pieces of the puzzle all of sudden fell into place, and the weight of misunderstanding and regret bore down on him. “Excuse me.” Nico stuttered out, freeing himself of the broadcasting equipment before hurriedly plunging into the bustling crowd, determined to confront the past. 

Rushing past crew members and paddock guests, his blue eyes scanned the crowd with restlessness before finally landing on the all-too-familiar shape of (Y/N).

“(Y/n),“ he called out, his voice carrying the echoes of years of silence. 

Upon hearing his voice call out to her, the woman turned, eyes widening in surprise, before narrowing again in anger. The air around them was suddenly buzzing with the electricity of unspoken words and unresolved feelings. “Nico,” she replied coldly, her voice betraying a simmering anger beneath the surface. 

Nico took a cautious step closer, the atmosphere fraught with tension. “I…I didn’t know. I thought you used me for stories. I didn’t know what happened that day.” his words came out rushed, as he struggled to keep up with his own thoughts. Lifting her chin,  (Y/N) crossed her arms, a defensive gesture as she glared at him. “Well, glad you’ve figured it out by now.” her voice cut through the noise of the racetrack. “I lost my job, Nico. I lost everything I had worked for, and you didn’t even bother to hear me out. You think an apology fixes this?” 

Nico reached for (Y/N)’s hand, a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness. “My mind was too clouded by the fact that you weren’t by my side during my victory, to be able to think rationally. I should have known.” he tried to explain himself, voice haunted by the regret of misplaced assumptions.

(Y/N) pulled her hand away from his grasp, a scoff escaping her lips. “Known? I would’ve never expected you to just know. But you should have asked, Nico. You didn’t give me a single chance to explain myself. Instead, you just disappeared.” with the last word, she jabbed an angry finger at his chest. 

Nico opened his mouth to respond, but (Y/N) cut him off “ You don’t get to just waltz back into my life after all these years and expect everything to be okay. You have no idea what it was like for me, losing my job and feeling abandoned by my best friend.” 

The man’s face fell, the reality of the pain he had caused written across his features. “(Y/N),please. I didn’t know the truth, and I-”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her voice sharp.”You didn’t bother to find out. You just assumed the worst, and I won’t just forget that.”

The tension between them was palpable as they stood there, the racetrack humming with the distant roar of engines. Whereas (Y/N)’s eyes held a mixture of anger and hurt, Nico felt the weight of his past choices pressing down on him. The heavy silence between them was once again interrupted by her voice, the anger now morphed into frustration. “You made your choice back then.” She sounded defeated. Nico struggled to find the right words, his chest tight with regret. “I messed up. I should have trusted you, and I’m sorry.” 

Unwilling to meet his gaze, (Y/N) turned away. “Sorry doesn’t erase the past, Nico. I don’t need your apologies now, I got work to do.”

The gravity of her words hung heavily between them.Once determined to seek reconciliation, Nico faced the consequences of his assumptions.The racetrack, witness to their shared highs and lows, now became a battleground for a different kind of race- a race against time to repair the fractured bond between them. As they lingered in the charged silence, a new layer of tension emerged. The unspoken truth of feelings that had never found a voice in the past now hovered between them. They had danced around something more profound than friendship, an undercurrent of emotions that had remained buried.

Deciding to try a different approach, Nico’s tone softened. “Remember that night when I waited for you in the pouring rain?”

As she turned back around to him (Y/N)’s eyes flickered with curiosity, a hint of vulnerability breaking through her defensive stance. “What?” 

Nico’s eyes nervously searched hers, an unsure, almost shy smile on his lips. “I stole that umbrella from Toto and to this day I am unsure of whether I was more nervous about waiting for you or the possibility of Toto finding out I was the reason he got drenched to the bone.”

A breathless chuckle broke through her frown, the sound like music to Nico’s ears. “You stole an umbrella from your boss, just so you could go on a walk with me?” her voice was laced with amusement and disbelief. “Mhm,” he hummed in response, his smile widening into a grin, blue eyes sparkling as he thought back to that very evening. “I actually hid around a corner for like 10 minutes, because I could hear how on edge he was, asking crew members about where his umbrella went.” A genuine laugh escaped (Y/N) at that, eyes glistening as she was hit by a wave of nostalgia. There was another moment of silence between the pair, although this time it felt more intimate.

“You know that when it came to us it was never about the job right?” her voice was barely louder than a whisper and if Nico hadn’t already been paying such close attention to her, he would have surely missed it. 

His eyes bore into (Y/N)’s, the weight of her words sinking in. The revelation hung in the air, an unspoken truth that had shaped their past interactions. With her vulnerability laid bare, (Y/N) waited for Nico’s response, the air heavy with anticipation. In that moment the racetrack seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of them suspended in an emotional crossfire.

Nico, grappling with the unexpected confession, searched her eyes for clarity. The realization hit him like a thunderbolt. Their unspoken connection had always transcended the confines of a professional relationship, a truth buried beneath the surface of camaraderie and shared passion for Formula 1.

Studying his face, (Y/N) could watch as a  myriad of emotions played across Nico’s face- surprise, regret and a hint of realization. 

“(Y/N)”, he murmured, his voice tinged with astonishment and understanding, as his brain struggled to find the right words.

The woman’s gaze wavered, and she nodded, a mixture of sadness and acceptance in her eyes. “You were so focused on the rivalry and the championship, that I didn’t want to complicate things. I thought, maybe one day…” Her voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken “one day” hanging in the air. 

Nico’s mind raced, grappling with the weight of missed opportunities and the realization of their connection has been far more profound than he had ever comprehended. “I had no idea. If I had known, I would have-” She cut him off, a bittersweet smile on her lips. “It’s in the past Nico. We can’t change it now.” Shaking his head, the blond reached out, tentatively taking (Y/N)’s hand and this time she allowed their fingers to intertwine, a silent acknowledgement of the emotions that had lingered, unspoken for years. “(Y/N), I wish I had known. I wish I had seen it then.” She met his gaze, the raw honesty of the moment reflected in her eyes. “We were caught in the whirlwind of the Silver War, and I didn’t want to be another distraction.”

Nico’s thumb gently traced circles on the back of her hand, as his gaze locked onto hers. “You were never a distraction, (Y/N).” Nico’s voice was stern. “If anything, you were the constant that I failed to appreciate.” 

As they found themselves standing at the crossroads of what could have been and what might still be, their hands lingered together, a silent testament to the depth of their connection. The unspoken feelings that had been tucked away for years now demanded recognition, weaving an intricate tapestry of emotions.

Nico took a step closer, his heart pounding with a mixture of uncertainty and hope. “Do you think we could start over…try to make up for the time we lost?”

(Y/N) looked up at him, eyes meeting his, and he thought to see a flicker of hope in their depths. “Nico-” she sighed clearly conflicted “It’s not that simple. We’ve both changed.”

He nodded a sense of gentleness in his understanding gaze. “I know, but what if we explore what we have now?” he leaned in a little closer, hand reaching up to gingerly cradle her cheek. “Let’s start from here, from this moment. Forget the misunderstandings, the lost chances and see where this takes us.” 

The warmth and sheer softness of his touch seemingly eased the mental conflict within (Y/N)’s mind and a tentative smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Will you steal another umbrella from Toto?” her question was accompanied by a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. 

The suddenness of her request made Nico knit his brows in confusion. Taking a second to process the question, this time it was him, who laughed in disbelief. 

"Yes.” he chuckled, thumb tracing her cheekbone, loving eyes studying her face as to memorise every single feature. “I'd happily steal yet another one of Toto's umbrellas for you." Underneath his gentle touch, Nico could feel her timid smile grow into a cheeky grin. "Well, then I am happily willing to give us a second chance."

As they stood there, enveloped in each other’s presence, the soft glow of the racetrack’s lights painted their faces in a warm hue, mirroring the warmth that radiated between them. “I never thought I’d feel this way again,” Nico admitted, gaze still fixed on (Y/N) as if she held the answers to questions he’d never dared to ask.

 “I’ve missed this” he muttered softly “Talking to you, being here, it feels like coming home.” (Y/N) felt the words dancing on the tip of her tongue but unable to escape. Her heart fluttered as she realized there were no words adequate to convey how she felt. With a quiet resolve, she slowly leaned in, breath mingling with his. Nico’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before softening, understanding dawning upon him. Time seemed to pause as her lips met his in a tender, feather-light kiss. It was a silent confession and a promise for the future. 

Drawing back, a rosy hue dusted (Y/N)’s cheeks and if her heart hadn’t already been racing before, it certainly was now upon seeing the lovesick smile on Nico's face.

“Welcome home, Nico.”

[cherry-pop-elf]

SFW Alphabet: George Weasley

To the Anon that requested this, I hope you see this and know that this was the best ask ever. I love you so much, oh my god thank you! 🫂

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

George is such a man of actions. He loves to display his affection proudly. Along with in the form of servitude or gift giving. He’s very loud and proud with it all. He will get you whatever you need, run whatever errand you have, and return to snuggle his face into your lap. Just holding you close. The moment WWW is opened, it gets amplified by a million. He’s a total cuddle bug, and he will make it your problem. Platonic, or romantic. It’s gonna be everyone’s problem that he is loud about it. Guess you can say he’s a little in everything, because of it. Still, his loudest is servitude and gift giving.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He is the most loyal, and fun, best friend to ever have. He is going to give you piggy back rides, as you both run away from whatever trouble you both left behind. He’s going to always have his shoulder ready for when you need to cry. He’s a very emotionally in tuned person when it comes to well, ya know, Emotions! So he is the man you can trust with your secrets, and just need to vent. Very much a living teddy bear. There for when you need to cry, scream, and need someone to hold. Along with pulling a Lupin, and making sure you have sweets for when you need to stuff your face silly over something dumb that happened.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Doesn’t matter if you are romantic, platonic, familia, you will be cuddled by this man. You will be held. He loves cuddles and acts of physical attention. Depending on your size, he will either rest his head in your lap or lay on you. He just wants to be held. Hold this man! Men deserve to be little spoons. Let him be cuddled and held tightly, with his hair played with. Of course, the gesture is returned. He will take care of you all the same. Just holding, and being held, soothes his woes.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Being raised by a family of nine, and also starting his own empire before he was eighteen, he is extremely great with domestic life. Despite what everyone says. Since he has a job he loves, and very much pays the bills, he is so excited to have kids. To have a family so badly, and give them the life he always dreamed of. He’s also the baker of the family, so cooking is no issue. Cleaning? Uh…..Hey, he can cook and will change the diapers no issue. He will be there for the child just as much as you would. What? No ones perfect. He handles the cooking, you handle the cleaning. Being a partner is sharing responsibility’s anyway.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

God, it’s gonna probably messy. He’s the more emotional one of the two, so it’s probably going to end in tears. That is, if the relationship was good and healthy. I can easily see him needing to do something like this, the day before he and Fred had to break out of Hogwarts. Not wanting to put them in any risk of their own actions. Would sit you down, explain what’s going on, and how he wants to focus his full heart and soul into the career. He would cry, but he would have Fred with him for support. If the relationship was shit? Expect a Jack In The Box to blow up in your face with a pie that says ‘It’s Over’ before being smacked in your face. Would even make the pie in your least favorite flavor, to be extra petty.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He took his career at WWW very seriously, so he wouldn’t be as quick to marriage as people would think. He would have 100% have a promise ring, Las Vegas wedding if you joined him in the Umbridge incident. But to actually settle down with kids and such is well after the war. He takes his job seriously. Like, the evidence is clear with how successful it is. He is a committed man, but he is also a man that is passionate about his career. So as long as you are very supportive of it as well, he’s like you as glue on a horse.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

It really depends on how far the relationship is. Platonic or romantic. At first he’s really intense and loud. But once you two settle into each other, he’s very gentle honestly. He’s the ‘softer twin’ after all. Still, he can be intense, but his emotions are soft. He’s very honest with how he feels, and if he’s uncomfortable it’s super easy to read on his face and body language. He’s just a very open book when it comes to emotions. Expected to have brutal hugs, and to be tossed like a rag doll though. He’s still got those jock arms, and hard muscles from working at WWW.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Obsessed with hugs. He would rest his head on yours, as you both are in class. He will hug you as a form of greeting. There have been times he’s hugged as a first impression. Confused the old farts when doing business deals, that’s for sure. He loves them so damn much. He loves to hug and be hugged. He’s not a teddy bear for nothing. Hug and hug and more hugs. He loves them, and will find an excuse to give them if he can. It’s even rubbed off on people he knows, and now they aren’t to shy in physical affection because of it.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He’s a very lovey dovey guy in general, so the first time he says it it’ll not really sound like the L-word. Just the playful little kinds. Like ‘I love your dumb ass-‘ types. He’s just as opposite of toxic masculinity as it gets. So when he finally does say the L word, it’s hard to tell if it’s playful or not. He’s just very emotional like that. Even after the war, and the trauma of it all. His emotional strength is to be admired, really.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Like I said. Fred is the more stern while George is more soft of the two. So his reaction to jealously is more in the terms of anxiety, and sadness. He would get stressed, and worried. Wondering if he’s good enough, if he’s even wasting your time with him.

After the war though? Uh….He might get a little aggressive. Not at you, but whoever it is he feels is threatening his relationship. It’s hard, when you lose your twin. So he gets overly protective and territorial. Afraid he will lose more people. Before the war he’s scared, after the war he’s terrified.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Cheeks and noses. He loves cute little affection like that. To pepper your face in kisses, and nuzzle his nose with yours. He wants to kiss your face until you giggle. He loves kisses like that in return.

After the war, he loves being kissed on his scar. Fleur would do that with Bill. Kiss his scars, and show him that he is still handsome. That his scars are just as pretty as him. It’s soothing to him. That he isn’t seen as gross or disgusting for his facial features. So, give him plenty of kisses on his missing ear.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

The BEST! Not only because he’s an older sibling, but because he runs a joke shop. He knows what kids like. He and Fred also would comfort kids during Umbridges time. So if a kid is experiencing trauma, he’s quick to hold them and let them know they have a safe adult to confide in. He’s the man that ends up being a person kids run to when they are running away from home, more often than he wants to admit. It’s not going to be long before he’s a foster parent, that’s for sure. He might have, even. Given a lot of orphans were made from the war…..

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He’s a morning bird. He will be awake early, and working on coffee and breakfast. Enjoying his cup of overly sweet Joe, and a sunrise. Even in school, he was always the first one up. He loves the calm of it. There’s something so nice about the stillness of a morning, and being able to mold it to be whatever you want it to be. Breakfast he already made, and he has a list of things he has planned for the morning. Already showered, and dressed. A total morning bird.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Fred is the night owl, not George. Especially since he would be busy with work. And it’s worse when Fred had died. Wanting to work as long as he could, to not face the loneliness of being without him. Even with a partner, it hurts. Closing shop alone. There will be times he worked himself to pure exhaustion, and passes out. Just so he didn’t have to close up shop alone. It’s not healthy, but neither is a magical twin being alive without his other half. It’s a cycle. You’ll help him break it eventually. So many nights are often times you stealing him out of his blacked out state in the shop.

Before the war, though, it was certainly much better. He would come home, tired, but contented. Have those aches and pains of a hard days work. Happily help make dinner, tell you about his day, and have a nice cuddle session together. So you two can have some together time, and be at peace. The war sure likes to take peace away from people.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Before the war, he’s very open about himself. You won’t get his darkest secrets, like how he feels like people like Fred more than him, on the first encounter. But he has a good judge of character, so you’ll learn that sooner than later.

After the war……Oh boy. He’s learned to be very good at hiding what he is actually feeling. It’s going to take ages for you to break through his laughing mask. He’s just scared of losing someone close to him again. It hurts. He’s scared. You’ll have to really dig, but the dig is worth it. Because when he finally opens up, it’s a water fall. A much needed waterfall, that patches holes. Paves way to healing. It’s worth the dig.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Depends on the person, actually. If you are like a little kid, his patience is endless. If you are an adult? It’s shorter, but he’s able to keep himself pretty calm. It’s a Gordon Ramsey thing. Kids don’t know better, adults do. Also, ya know, he’s beaten up Draco more than once.

The same still apply’s after the war. Shorter for adults, endless for kids. Though, he’s more quicker to violence after the war. Because those same adults are now making comments about Fred, his appearance, and things that you just don’t say to someone with PTSD man. Come on.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

You would think he was a stalker, with how much he knows. In reality, the twins are charismatic for a reason. They read the room, and pick up small details. That’s how they seem so charming. They know what to say to meet the vibe. So, he’s just good at picking up little things. He loves knowing what makes his friends, and partners, happy. Also, he’s a prankster. He NEEDS to know these tiny details. Makes giving you surprises the more fun. You made one comment about how pretty green is? Now you suddenly have a green sweater for Christmas because he told Molly you like green. You will not escape his love.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

If this is a case that you joined them in the Umbridge escape, that obviously. If not? It’s extremely domestic. It’s a case where you two fell asleep together. Having spent the night in a hidden little spot in the castle, having been working on plans for inventions and pranks. Just the two of you cuddled, and surrounded with exciting things. Fred and Angelina in a similar fashion. Almost a mirror of you and him. Just one big cuddle pile, with the most important people of his life. You, his twin, and their childhood friend. It was so perfect, he was able to forget the worries of Umbridge and the war. It was heaven, for just a moment.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

It gets worse after the war, but over all he’s always been support protective. If anything, you getting caught in the Pink Toad’s crossfire is what caused him and Fred to break out of school. If it wasn’t for the fact she had so much power, it would be safe to assume he would have caused more violence than what was already done. He isn’t afraid to get blood on his hands. Many wizards aren’t, as that is the society. Wizards are a very violent society after all. You say the word, and the person that has been bothering you either gets pranked into a heart attack….or worse.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

It’s his favorite pass time, really. He loves planning. There is so much excitement in it. Also doing small things is just natural for him. To kiss your head, before leaving to work. To remember your favorite flavor of candy, and give you said flavor from the left overs from candy he got in Hogsmeade. He loves doing stuff like that, and it gets worse after WWW. He’s able to pamper you in ways no one could imagine. It’s not a surprise that some of the products are a reaction to gifts and plans he made for you. So many dates, so many fun things. Every moment is special. From the wildest of Quidditch matches, to domestic picnics at Fred’s grave.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

I wouldn’t say having PTSD is an ugly habit, but that is something that will need to be dealt with and handled. It’s hard, but hopefully you were very aware of that when dating him. Suppose more so what actual bad habits he has is saying we/us well after Fred’s death. As if you’ll ever correct him. A more proper bad habit is he has a hard time cleaning, and remembering to eat. Ya know, typical ADHD habits. Suppose remembering self care is a bad habit. Even before the war. He is just a giver. It’s hard to treat yourself, so it leads to some issues. Like dietary issues, his hair getting messy. A really really bad habit he has is always focusing on making others happy, and forgetting himself. Everyone deserves happiness, not him. It’s a trauma that was developed by his life. So it’s hard for him to take a minute to allow himself joy. Lots of bottled up emotions, despite being so open. Complexity of human nature.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He didn’t really start a worry, until after the war. Now that he was sporting a missing ear, multiple scars, and just a mess of trauma. He went as far as to grow out his hair to try and hide the scars. It’s hard, because since the wound is a magical scar it caused his hair to be unable to grow on that spot. So his hair style had to be very long, which just brought more notice to his scar. It’s often made him cry. Kids asking about it don’t bother him too much, but adults just don’t know when to shut up. He’s cried so many times from it. How he is no longer identical to Fred. That he can’t even see his own brother in his reflection anymore. Many a mirror has been broken, to say the least…..

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Before the war, he would have a better chance of moving on and living life as normal. After? Oh after it’s scary. It’s very scary. He’s lost Fred, don’t make him keep losing people. It’s going to be a very dark day for WWW if he ever lost you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Just one?! Oh come on. Ok ok hm. Hehe get angsted. He started to wear purple far more often when Fred died, so in a way Fred is still involved and part of life. Because Fred’s favorite color is purple, while George’s favorite color is orange. Hence their purple and orange color schemes. Green was their mutual shared color they liked. So purple indirectly because almost more loved than orange, because purple reminded him of Fred. So by proxy grape, and such, was a thing that has often comforted him in hard times. If he’s drinking or eating grape flavored things, it’s a sign that he’s sad and needs support. So, in his own little way, Fred is. By giving him comfort in a flavor and color.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

You don’t like kids? He doesn’t like you. You don’t want kids when older? Get out of his face. This doesn’t mean if you are unable to have kids. This means if you aren’t willing to adopt or foster even. If you won’t even accept fostering then you aren’t dating him. Kids are his life. Also, duh, if you can’t take a joke or enjoy a good prank. If you basically don’t have the headspace to be a playful parent, you aren’t even getting the time of day from him. Don’t get him started on the weirdos that make if their whole personality that they don’t have kids. Red flag for him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Before the war, he was a heavy ass sleeper. He would have you tangled in his limbs, as he snores into your hair. He’s knocked out, and you are now trapped with his ginger covered furnace he calls a body. Sure makes winters snuggly. He can sleep through a damn construction sight, while being on a jack hammer. Those twins love loud noises. They don’t get scared by them easily.

After the war is another story. He can’t sleep on his left side, because that makes him go fully deaf after all. He also can’t have the room quiet. The quite scares him. So there will be some kind of background noise. Such as the window open, to have the busy streets of London/Diagon alley to make some sound. Or a record player. He’s also more sensitive to waking up, and has night terrors. He gets scared easily in his sleep. It’s also harder to sleep, if you aren’t there with him. He just hates being alone. He always has Fred, and they had that magical bond. So that even if they were miles apart, they could still feel each other. He doesn’t have that anymore. Isolation is horrific for him. Hence why Bill moved back to working in Gringotts, and into the flats attached to WWW. So he didn’t have to face that fear. Fleur’s thoughts on it? She’s out right slept in the same room as George, one his worse nights, because a Veela knows what it’s like to have magic that isn’t the same as your typical wizard. She knows, and does what she can to help. A true Weasley.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Revealed love

Hii I hope you enjoy this Oliver Bearman on-shot to celebrate that next year he'll drive for F1 :)

We both met at a very young age, you had just moved into town and switched schools and that's how we met and as I close my eyes a rush of memories come flushing in.

It was a bright, sunny morning, and the schoolyard buzzed with the usual energy of children ready to start their day. As I walked towards my classroom, I noticed a new face among the familiar ones. He was standing alone near the entrance, clutching his backpack nervously, his brown eyes scanning the crowd with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

Something about his uncertain stance tugged at my heart. I could see he was trying to muster the courage to take that first step into unfamiliar territory. Without a second thought, I walked up to him, my curiosity and innate kindness propelling me forward. "Hi, I'm Y/N," I said with a smile, extending my hand. "You must be new here." He looked at me, his eyes wide with surprise, and then a shy smile crept across his face. "Yeah, I’m Ollie," he replied, shaking my hand. His grip was tentative but warm. "Welcome to our school, Ollie. Come on, I'll show you around," I offered, sensing his relief as he fell into step beside me. As we walked, I pointed out the different classrooms, the playground, and introduced him to a few of my friends. The initial awkwardness faded quickly, replaced by easy conversation and shared laughter. Ollie had a quiet charm about him, and his shyness soon gave way to a sense of humour that matched my own. By the time the bell rang, signalling the end of recess, it felt like we had known each other forever.

From that day on, Ollie and I were inseparable. We navigated the ups and downs of school life together and his career as a racer, our bond grew stronger with each passing year. We shared secrets, dreams, and countless adventures, always there for each other no matter what.

Ollie wasn't just the new kid anymore; he was my best friend, my confidant, and an irreplaceable part of my life. As I think about that day, I can't help but smile, grateful for the twist of fate that brought us together and the enduring friendship that throughout the years has grown into a crush.

"Are you okay? You've been very quiet tonight," Oliver asks, concern evident in his voice. "Yeah, just lost in my thoughts, thinking about us actually and how much has changed since we met, and even though I'm so happy that next year you'll be in Formula 1, everything will change." I say as I look into his eyes. "Y/N, you are one of the most important people in my life, and I understand how you feel. It's terrifying, but at the same time, you know it's something I have to do." Hope fills my heart as I hear his words, until they are crushed. "Besides, you are my best friend. I could never forget about you," he says nervously. I'm speechless, my thoughts a mess. "I understand, Oliver. If you'll excuse me, I need some air."

As you walk onto the patio, the cool evening air does little to soothe the turmoil inside you. Footsteps quickly follow, and before you can take another step, a hand gently catches your arm. "Y/N, wait," Oliver says, his voice laced with urgency. "I know there's something more. You only call me Oliver when you're angry."

That's it. You can't hold it in any longer. Words pour out, driven by months of pent-up emotion. "I'm not angry, Oliver. I'm exhausted. I keep waiting for you, but you never come. Is it all in my head?" Your voice wavers, the vulnerability in your words hanging heavy in the air.

Oliver's expression softens, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and regret. "No, it's not in your head," he says quietly. "I… I've been trying to protect you."

"Protect me?" you repeat, your confusion mingling with frustration.

He takes a deep breath, his hand still on your arm, as if afraid you'd disappear if he let go. "Yes. From everything. From the scrutiny of the F1 world, from the chaos that surrounds my life. I didn't want to ruin our friendship, Y/N. I didn't want to risk losing you."

Tears prick your eyes as you look at him, the weight of his words sinking in. "I don't care about any of that, Oliver. I care about you. I've loved you for so long, and it hurts to think you don't feel the same."

His grip tightens ever so slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. "I've loved you too, Y/N. From the moment we met, you've been the most important person in my life. I thought keeping my feelings hidden was the right thing to do, to keep you safe. But I can't keep hiding it anymore."

You take a shaky breath, the raw honesty in his words giving you strength. "So where does that leave us?"

Oliver steps closer, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek. "It leaves us right here, together. You'll never have to be alone. I love you, and that's all I really know. We'll face everything together, no matter what."

Tears finally spill over as you lean into his touch, your heart swelling with relief and joy. "I love you too," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

He pulls you into a tender embrace, his lips finding yours in a kiss that feels like coming home. The world around you fades away, and for the first time in a long time, everything feels right. In that moment, under the stars on the patio, you know that no matter what challenges come your way, you and Oliver will face them together, your love stronger than anything else.