#but i love his response honestly lol

[lydiaas]

KIARA CARRERA and JJ MAYBANK - I LOVE YOU S03E07 / S03E09

[keepthedelta]

since this is the delta help desk, I have come to you once again to dip into your vast swathe of motorsport knowledge.

I've seen a lot of pictures of Nico from his early years in the sport and read a lot of articles where he is described as good looking, handsome, blonde etc and have heard some discussions where pre dts f1 fans have called him the og pretty boy, and charles' predecessor etc. I wanted to understand the cultural hype around Nico in his early years? Like the current f1 fandom is very americanised and charles definitely enjoys the fruits of being good looking. Did Nico have something similar? Like fans emphasizing their love for Nico because of how pretty he is, giving him an almost pop idol sort of worship. I understand that f1 had a smaller fan base back then and it was more men that women probably so this sort of talk was probably frowned upon. But did Nico drive people un poco loco, essentially? Would love your thoughts.

Side note: the nico pfp is soooo darling and the photoset you reblogged of him carrying his little daughter on his shoulder where she is holding onto his ear with her chubby baby hand...... sewercideeeee

oh this is kind of a hard one. i feel like the most accurate and honest answer i can give you is no. and yes. which is very irritating of me, but bear with me.

the culture around f1 was massively different back then, both when nico first started and when he left. the audience was smaller and mostly male, and information about the drivers and their personalities was extremely limited, mostly due to FOM rules regulating what behind the scenes stuff teams and drivers could post. most of the "fun" content and insight that teams can do now was only done through the broadcasters like sky, the bbc, espn etc.

the other main source of information about drivers i would say was tabloids. and certain drivers like jenson button, kimi raikkonen and to a slightly lesser (or different) extent lewis hamilton became very famous because of them. michael schumacher was a god of racing, and lewis had the whole young prodigy dating an american popstar thing, but even before jenson and kimi won their championships they were very well known for drinking and partying and dating lots and lots of very beautiful women, some famous, some not. it was a bit more rockstar than popstar i guess, where the extremes of the life, the heavy drinking, the hard partying, the fast driving, the beautiful women were seen as aspirational for the mostly male audience.

and nico never really fit into that. he did the drinking and partying, but away from the cameras usually, and his awkwardness and resting bitch face made people think that he was boring and stuck up. he was also so steadfastly loyal to vivian, who seems like his only real relationship (they began dating at 18 and people who worked with nico back in the junior formulas said that he never brought girls round other than her) in an era where cheating was so widespread and normalised that some fans speculated about his sexuality, suggesting that vivian was a beard and he was actually gay (he was also close with lewis, adrian sutil and nelson piquet jr who also all had speculation over their sexualities so i think that was part of it as well).

i think there was some pop idol-ism in women's treatment of nico back in the day. when he was in formula bmw as the most aggressively blonde 17 year old in existence he was sponsored by viva, which i believe was the german version of mtv, and i think more broadly the whole formula bmw championship was promoted on that channel, making the racers relatively popular with the teenage girls of germany. i also remember seeing an interview nico and some of the other drivers like romain grosjean did (i think in canada 2013 but i can't be sure) where a couple of women in the audience said they were there to see nico because he was so pretty. and if you go into some of the old reddit threads on f1 there are some comments about how pretty nico is and can you blame the camera operator for zooming in so the audience can count his eyelashes? (i believe reddit's consensus was no, you can't blame the camera operator).

i think one of the major differences (other than the different fan cultures) between nico's early years and charles's early years is that charles was promoted to ferrari almost immediately while nico was stuck outdriving fairly terrible cars. one of the reasons why charles has such a large fanbase is because he's driving for a top team, has done so for a long time, and is hailed (rightly or wrongly) as a future world champion. nico never really had any of that hype. he had moments of brilliance in his early years and outdrove all of his cars and teammates (i know mark webber beat him in the head to head in nico's first year but he beat everyone else), but the williams was at best a midfield car and so the hype wasn't really there in the way it has been for charles at ferrari. i think it's also fair to say that as well as nico did in his early career, he was overshadowed by lewis coming into mclaren and immediately challenging for a championship. maybe things would have been different if nico had been able to accept the mclaren seat in 2008, but ultimately he got very few opportunities to show his talent in his early career. and in an era where fandom gravitated either to the challengers (michael, kimi, fernando, lewis) or the playboys (kimi, jenson) nico didn't really fit either mould.

i also think we have to acknowledge the negativity that surrounded nico throughout his career, largely because of his looks. i (and f1blr more broadly) joke a lot about nico causing sexuality crises throughout the paddock, and while it is a joke, i do think there was a lot of very genuine homophobia (and misogyny) directed at nico, especially in his early career. while other drivers, like jenson for example, were thought of as good looking, it was in an aspirational way (aspirational for women to have in a partner and aspirational for men to be, and therefore to get women), whereas nico was viewed as attractive in a "feminine" way, which was seen as the wrong way. he was too pretty, too conscious about it, too effeminate. the britney nickname, fans constantly calling him barbie as an insult, the most attractive woman in the paddock vote where someone (pretty sure nico has said it was seb) voted for him, it was all based in a perception of him as "womanly" and therefore "weak". he was good-looking in a way that men couldn't fantasise about being, because they associated him too heavily with the people, usually women, that they wanted to fuck.

as much as people like to talk about how feral men are for charles now, it is largely in a positive way. when men talked about nico being pretty it was in a derogatory way, rooted in the culture of the time, which was generally quite homophobic and misogynistic. i think he did drive them crazy, but not necessarily in a good way 🤷🏿‍♀️

[hayaku14]

kuroba toichi you need to stay dead or im going to fucking kill you myself

[winepresswrath]

beloved nemesises.

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor’s R&S: Between Silence (Eng Translation)

“Every choice he makes inevitably leads to the right path.”

⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a R&S, 无声之间, that is yet to be released on the global server. ⌚

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•  

[Subbed Video: Fully Voiced]

This R&S accompanies Victor’s S2 CH 41-44 karma.

Victor’s dialogue’s will be in bold and italics, and the others’ dialogues will be only in bold.

【Chapter 1】

The events of the first three chapters took place when Victor was around 22-23 years old. They elaborate on the beginning of Victor and Ronan’s friendship.

A small recap for those unaware: Ronan is one of Victor’s closest friends. He was a young director looking for opportunities to start his career, and young Victor was just building up LFG back then. After proper evaluation, Victor invested in Ronan’s project. Ronan’s project later won several international awards, and with that, the still learning to walk LFG also got its first base for spreading its wings. Ronan later became a world-renowned director (the CANNES winner apparently), LFG became “LFG,” and Victor became “Victor.”

Ronan appeared in Victor’s Taste of Life MQ, Garden Date, and 5th Birthday Story, and was mentioned by Victor in the R&S Finally, We Meet Again. Victor and MC also discuss “Ronan x Victor” friendship in the S2 CH 41-44 call~

—

Victor’s gaze was indifferently fixed on the only source of light in the dimly lit study room–– the movie playing on the computer screen. His face was partly illuminated by the flickering light, and he seemed a little lost in thoughts.

A few days ago, when Victor returned from a business trip to a neighboring city, he was stopped by a young man as soon as he stepped out of the taxi. He enthusiastically helped Victor retrieve his luggage from the trunk and immediately began “confronting” him in a familiar manner as if they had already known each other for a long time.

“CEO Victor, your company is not that large. Why do you still use an appointment system? It seems frivolous.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Victor bowed slightly and took the suitcase back into his hands, not intending to pay much attention to the stranger’s rudeness. Although it hadn’t yet been three years since LFG was founded, it had already gained a reputation for its sharp and cutting-edge investment strategy. This visitor was not the first young person to show up uninvited.

“Moreover, I couldn’t find any way to book an appointment online. So I had no other option but to wait here patiently. It’s been five days already, but luckily, I finally managed to secure an appointment.”

Victor’s gaze toward him was crystal clear, indicating, “Let’s talk business.” But the young man seemed to be oblivious to the implied meaning.

“Ah… I understand. There must always be sales promoters swarming at your door, and that’s why you guys have this regulation, right?”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

The space between Victor’s eyebrows knitted into a frown,

“Your behavior has served as a good example of the necessity of this regulation.”

Seeing that Victor was about to leave, the young man blocked his path with a grin on his face,

“Sorry about that. I tend to think in a scattered manner. Please don’t take offense, CEO Victor.”

Following this, he extended his hand toward Victor,

“Let me formally introduce myself. My name is Ronan, and I’m a film director. I have a feature-length movie script that I’ve been polishing for a long time, and I hope that LFG can invest in producing the film.”

Victor didn’t lift his gaze and simply dropped one word in a concise manner,

“Reason.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Although I don’t understand business, LFG is different from other companies. They have already shown their ambition to venture into other industries even in their early stages, which aligns with my aspirations.”

Victor detected a hint of arrogance in Ronan’s words that seemed to come from nowhere, and his brows furrowed slightly, 

“What I’m asking is, why should LFG invest?”

Seeing the youth frozen in place, Victor walked around him and continued on toward the company. However, he had only taken a few steps when he suddenly heard a voice calling out to him from behind, “Wait a minute!” The young man ran up to him again, rummaged through his belongings, and finally handed a hard disk to Victor,

“My answer is in there.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

The hard disk contained nearly 20 short film works that Ronan had shot previously as practice pieces. 

As the end credits of the last short film were displayed on the screen, a flicker of keen interest emerged on Victor’s previously impassive face. The short films, though, had some roughness and immaturity, but they couldn’t overshadow the unique talent of the creator. He got up and walked to the window, pulling open the heavy curtains. The gentle morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains and poured into the study. It turned out that without even realizing it, he had actually stayed up all night watching those clips.

Victor took out his phone and dialed a number,

“Prepare a report on the development of the film industry in the past five years.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

In the afternoon of that day, an investment decision meeting was held in the conference room of LFG.

“Although there haven’t been any mistakes in CEO Victor’s decisions so far, the profits of the high-speed railway industry have only just begun to show. Given LFG’s current circumstances, it won’t be appropriate to hastily jump into a new industry.”

“A film production cycle is time-consuming, and even aside from the question of whether or not the investment will be profitable, it will take a long time for the money to flow back in. With LFG’s current financial situation, we likely won’t be able to afford this gamble.”

“While the policies may have become more favorable recently, it would still be unwise to stake our all in the investment of a single movie.”

….

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

This investment decision was seeing the most unified opposition since LFG was founded. However, everything that was happening now was well within Victor’s expectations. After listening to all the opposing views, he responded to everyone’s concerns with perfect composure.

“Currently, there is indeed not sufficient data to support this investment decision. The sole convincing factor is that every investment decision made by LFG in the past has yielded good returns. And I believe that this time will be no exception, although the process may be relatively long.”

“Aside from the budget sheet displayed on the big screen, I’ve already asked Goldman to send the script of this project and the director’s past works to everyone’s email. Perhaps the works will be more persuasive than my empty talk.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Rather than whether or not this movie will bring financial gains to LFG, I’d rather see LFG seize the right opportunity to set foot in the film industry. The film industry will soon enter a period of rapid development, and by grasping the current opportunity, LFG can establish a mutually beneficial relationship with the entire industry.”

Victor’s tone was unhurried and measured. But as it fell into the ears of the investors, it was akin to an indisputable judgment.

A few days later, the investment resolution for Ronan’s film project was approved by LFG.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•  

—

【Chapter 2】

Ronan’s first movie stirred a small sensation after its release, and after gaining recognition from many industry veterans, he grew rapidly at a breakneck pace. With the constant flow of inspiration, he created two more films in quick succession, while LFG continued to firmly occupy the top spot as the producer of his films since the beginning. When he was almost wrapping up the shooting for his third film, Victor received multiple invitations from Ronan to visit the set under the guise of “guiding the work.”

A faint sense of misgiving arose in Victor’s heart. Although Ronan had an unconventional personal style, as a director, he had always maintained enough professionalism and aesthetic sense and would not be swayed by the opinions of the investors. At that time, he happened to be on a business trip near the filming location and drove to the set on the outskirts of the city.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

However, he wasn’t expecting to be greeted with the sight of Ronan exploding on the props team as soon as he stepped onto the set. 

“The precondition of all you guys’ work here is to respect the film! Respect the audience! Your small mistake has directly caused five scenes to be re-shot, not to mention going over budget. Now the entire crew is spending extra time and effort to mend your error!”

Signs of anger loomed on Ronan’s face as if he was trying his best to restrain himself from smashing the script in his hand onto the other person’s head.

The Ronan in front of him was a far cry from the unconventional and unruly image he had in his memory, causing Victor to inevitably be a little flabbergasted. He stood there waiting on the side for quite a while until Ronan came rushing over.

“Ahh... sorry for making you wait! Would you like to have something to drink?”

✄┈┈┈┈┈���

“Water.”

Ronan wiped off his sweat and took Victor to the RV, where the director’s crew took a break. However, upon opening the freezer cabinet, nothing else was inside except cans of beer packed to the brim.

“Will this do?”

“...I drove here.”

As if oblivious to Victor’s speechless expression, Ronan put the beer back into the freezer and sat down opposite him in a carefree manner, gesturing animatedly with his hands.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“I had originally calculated the exact time and wanted you to witness the grand finale. But you also saw the situation just now. Things don’t always go according to the plans.”

“How do you plan to handle this situation?”

“We have no choice but to reshoot. But don’t worry, I’ll ensure we do it in the most cost-effective method possible. Rest assured, it won’t  go over budget.”

Ronan shrugged his shoulders in feigned nonchalance, but Victor’s keen perception picked up on the subtle traces of putting on an act in his tone.

“If the method you’re talking about is to film it all in one take using a long shot, then I suggest you ask for a budget increase from me.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Hearing Victor’s words, Ronan was a bit taken aback and stared with widened eyes,

“Have you been taking film courses? How do you even know about cost-effective filming methods?”

“How much budget do you need for the reshoot?”

Seeing Victor’s serious expression, Ronan cupped his fist in the other hand, an expression of gratitude written across his whole face,

“About 3 million yuan. Thank you so much in advance, CEO Victor. You are the godparent of this film! I’ll definitely put your name at the top of the director’s acknowledgments!”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Victor remained stone-faced in the face of his teasing:

“No need. You may have misunderstood. For me, achieving the expected goal takes precedence over everything. Economizing the cost is only a small number, but compromising the quality of the film would affect the expected return on investment.”

Probably aiming to appease Victor’s concerns, Ronan gave him his sincere assurance,

“Don‘t worry. I won’t be careless with any of the shots.”

Not receiving a response from Victor, he took a brief pause and jokingly said,

“Hehe, do I need to win a major international award for you to have faith in me?”

Victor didn’t continue that conversation and left with the parting remark, “Make sure to not just talk the talk. Let me see your capability with the finished project.” But Ronan knew that Victor had faith in him.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Victor was just about to start the car when he heard a knock on the car’s right window. He turned to the source of the sound and saw Ronan outside the car, panting heavily, holding a bottle of water as if he had just run a great distance to reach him.

“Thanks.”

Victor took the water after opening the window,

“By the way, your acting skills are really poor. It’s best if you just stick to being a director.”

Despite being called out, Ronan remained unperturbed and smiled instead, resting his hand on the window frame,

“I’ve been dedicated to being a director all along. Earlier, when I mentioned winning an award, I was dead serious. So if that day ever comes, how about treating me to a drink at a bar, CEO Victor?”

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•  

—

【Chapter 3】

The film that Ronan had placed great expectations upon encountered a strong setback in the local theaters even before receiving the results of its entry into the international film festival. Due to the mismanagement in scheduling by the theaters, the film was forced to release earlier than planned. The marketing and promotion team was caught off guard, having no time to prepare, and many people were unaware that it had already been released. As a result, the film suffered from poor box office performance and received a lackluster public reception, which was not surprising considering the circumstances.

The following day, Victor was reviewing the box office prediction trend chart as he prepared in advance for LFG’s next weekly investment meeting. After the weekend drew its curtain, the film’s already disappointing performance experienced a sudden and drastic decline, reminiscent of a fall from the cliff. It seemed that the film’s box office failure had become inevitable. Recalling Ronan’s spirited demeanor when talking about his aspiration for the film winning awards, Victor decided to go and watch the movie to experience it firsthand.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Due to a scarce number of screenings, Victor could only manage to buy a ticket for a late-night show. By the time he walked out of the theater, it was already dawn, and he found himself to be the sole audience member in the entire screening in the empty cinema hall without the sight of any other viewers. Coincidentally, as Victor entered the elevator, the projectionist in charge of the screening happened to be getting off work and shared the elevator with him.

“Ah, the movie has a high level of artistic quality. It’s the best one he has directed yet. It’s a pity that it’s not commercial enough to make money.”

In response to the projectionist’s remark, Victor nodded politely and replied:

“Mm, it’s indeed remarkable. As for whether it’s a pity or not, each film has its track suitable for only itself.”

With a “ding” sound, the brief conversation came to an end as the elevator doors opened.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Just as he stepped out of the elevator, Victor’s phone in his pocket vibrated. He received an MMS from Ronan, containing a screenshot of an email confirming his film’s selection for the CANNES Film Festival. The message was accompanied by a grinning face emoji.

Just as Victor’s “congratulations” message was successfully sent, Ronan couldn’t contain his excitement and immediately called him,

“Reporters are all waiting in line to interview me. But I wanted to call you first. Isn’t that very thoughtful of me?”

Without waiting for Victor to respond, Ronan carried on excitedly,

“I’m actually booking my plane ticket right now. After the film festival wraps up, it’d be the perfect opportunity to reward myself with a long vacation! I’m planning to visit Île Saint-Honorat near Cannes. Ahh, the sunshine! The beach! The sea! I already can’t wait to melt away in the Mediterranean sea breeze!”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

His irrepressible excitement flowed from the rising inflection of his voice.

“If I remember correctly, that e-mail was just to notify you that you’ve been nominated.”

“Being nominated is the first step to actually winning the award. When I get back, you better be ready to take out for a drink. I’m gonna need at least a whole case of beer.”

Ronan continued in a dissatisfied tone before Victor could respond,

“Come on? You’ve invested millions in me, yet it’s so difficult for you to treat me to a simple drink? Forget it, I’ll just…”

“Sure, we can have a drink. But since I’m the one treating, I’ll choose where we go.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

After hanging up the phone, Victor found several new emails expressing their interest in collaboration in his inbox, all from astute film and TV companies.

“It seems that tomorrow’s investment meeting will go smoothly,”-- Victor thought to himself. Although he didn’t hesitate when making the decision initially, he could not help but feel a sense of joy as the dust settled and everything fell in the right direction in the end.

As these thoughts circled his mind, Victor walked towards the vending machine outside the movie theater. He inserted a few coins, and moments later, a chilled can of beer dropped from the dispensing slot.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•  

—

【Chapter 4】

Chapters 4 & 5 of the R&S cover the events between S2 CH 38-39. It begins with the scene after he had replaced the twelve main gods of BS, and the ending scene of the R&S, yes, is the “Stop time for me, Victor” scene of S2 CH 39 after clearing all split routes; the most crucial junction~

—

The waning moon sinks into the dense clouds, and the night sky is bathed in a blurred, pale luminescence.

The comet remains suspended midair, framing the entire Loveland City in a treacherous and enchanting ambiance. The city has lapsed into a state of deathly stillness.

In the depths of the BS Hall, the cascading dark red curtains appear eerie and terrifying under the reflection of the thick, dark night. The central seat in the hall remains unoccupied. Numerous figures stand scattered throughout the hall, engaged in discussions. The sound of conversation fills the air, giving the impression that the main gods seem to be working intensely. Despite so, there’s an underlying current of restlessness and turmoil in the air.

As Victor descends the stairs, his composed footsteps draw the attention of the crowd, causing their gazes to converge on him in unison.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Victor walks towards Poseidon and asks,

“How is the progress?”

“We haven’t been able to reach Helios yet.”

Victor’s gaze sweeps across the faint golden arc of light beneath the hall’s dome. A thin layer of frost seems to settle on his face as he says,

“I hope I don’t have to emphasize once again how tight the time is.”

Poseidon nods and exits the hall. Another tall, short-haired youth swiftly walks up to Victor and says,

“BOSS, multiple calculations have consistently proven that our estimated countdown time is indeed relatively accurate, with an error margin that can be kept within 2 minutes.”

“It’s not enough. It needs to be precise down to the second.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Understood.”

The young man nimbly turns around and returns to the side of the woman wearing glasses. In front of them, a massive depiction of the development history of civilizations on Earth is displayed. Each key milestone of the birth and extinction of civilizations is illuminated, shining brightly. The two people close their eyes, and countless lines weave through the points of light. They interconnect in an orderly and systematic pattern, and gradually, numerical values representing units of time emerge on the line segments.

As the main gods return to their tasks, everything appears to be the same as it was earlier. However, with Victor’s presence, the restlessness that was lingering in the air before has unknowingly melted away, vanishing into thin air.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

The mechanical sound of a violin suddenly resounds, piercingly echoing throughout the hall. Standing by the door is an unexpected guest. Victor looks up and, upon recognizing the visitor’s face, dismisses the twelve main gods, leaving only the two of them in the spacious hall. 

“Zero, I believe we’ve made our point very clear already.”

The other party seems oblivious to the implied urgency in the words and remains unperturbed as he says,

“We have observed new omens appearing along the world-lines.”

Victor raises his eyebrows, indicating for him to go on.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“There might be different potential futures for this world. It remains uncertain which path the new future will follow, and perhaps it could be even worse than the current situation.”

Victor’s eyes are filled with indifference as he responds,

“Time is precious. You can just state your purpose in coming directly.”

Zero pauses and looks straight into Victor’s eyes, speaking slowly,

“The SpaceTime Bureau welcomes powers formidable enough to confront and observe the unknown. Therefore, my invitation to you still stands. You and I both know that venturing into the unknown is not the optimal option.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Whether an option is the best has never been the basis for my decision-making. For me, the one and only valid prerequisite is whether or not I desire to make that choice.”

Victor speaks in an indifferent tone, yet every word carries the confidence of having victory within his grasp,

“And once I make a choice, I will ensure it becomes the most correct one.”

Zero chooses not to persuade any further, and as he departs, the gates of BS close behind him. Even though Victor has never had any regrets about his decisions, he cannot, however, escape the realization that even the right choice sometimes comes with an unbearable price. For instance, there is one such image that remains etched into his memory and which he still refuses to recall to this very day––

The utility room of the cruise ship. The bewilderment and perplexity in her gaze as she looked at him.

[Tidbits]: Reference to [S2 CH 31]

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Even if her forgetting him had lasted for only a brief moment, the shock it brought to Victor’s heart might outlast even the longevity of his own life.

The sound of bells chiming outside the building reaches Victor’s ears and brings him back to reality, jolting him out of his tangled thoughts. He walks towards the window and pushes open the heavy panes, allowing the chilly wind to fill his nostrils. Gradually, he regains his composure.

He takes a deep breath and directs his gaze toward the bell tower of the church. The hoarse tolling of the bells startles a flock of crows into sudden flight. They circle above the church for a while, adding another layer of desolation to this already lifeless city. The church spire blends into the profound darkness of the night. The entire city seems to be silently awaiting the arrival of doomsday.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

But in the next second, from a distance, Victor spots a familiar figure breaking through the night, running towards his location vigorously.

The darkness of the night intensifies,  and a cluster of blazing flames has already flared into existence in the silent void.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•  

—

【Chapter 5】

Victor is not surprised by the scene unfolding before him, and a small smile forms at the corner of his lips.

The church bells continue reverberating, but by the time the sound travels to Victor’s ears, it carries a much brisker tone.

Unbeknownst to him, a gauzy layer of starlight has cascaded upon the church’s stained glass windows at some point. The soft halo of pale light gently dances, casting swirling and elusive shadows that can be seen even with eyes closed.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

The running girl closes the distance more and more, with her long hair casually flowing down in loose waves, drawing a beautiful arc in the air. Despite there still being a considerable distance between them, Victor feels as though he can see the girl’s face clearly. He is certain that her eyes now are sparkling with a resolute glimmer, powerful enough to pierce through the darkness of the night. With this thought, a wave of fervent sensation surges up from deep within his heart.

Suddenly, Victor feels as if he has been blessed.

It’s not about whether every decision he makes ultimately leads to the perfect outcome, but rather the fact that he has always been granted the opportunity to make choices.

It’s as if, at this moment, he can cast aside all social roles and simply be “Victor,” allowing himself to be there for the girl wherever she needed him and creating a space where she could find him at any time.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

The feeling of being needed by her, of being able to help her–– these aspects bring Victor a profound sense of happiness. It seems that this happiness is enough to make the long days ahead, in which he may be forgotten by her, a little less painful to endure.

Victor nods slightly in the direction of the church, solemnly expressing his gratitude for this blessing within his heart.

Victor turns around and ascends the steps, summoning all the main gods to take their positions,

“Suspend all matters at hand.”

A murmuring commotion rises among the main gods, as they are puzzled about why BOSS has chosen to halt their activities during such a crucial moment when the end of the night is just about to descend.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Before those impatient inquiries can escape their lips, though, Victor’s cold and commanding demeanor instantly silences them.

His gaze sweeps over the crowd, ensuring that every main god is present, before finally settling on the entrance not far away. The main gods, following his line of sight, turn their heads toward the entrance as well.

A few seconds later, the BS door is pushed open with a resounding sound.

The girl appears at the far end of Victor’s unwavering gaze, gasping for breath. He, with a stern and proud expression, leads the main gods toward her until she can see him. It’s only when the girl has a clear view of him does Victor halt his steps.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

As those bright, sparkling eyes gaze at him from afar, and their eyes interlock, Victor’s heart is flooded with a myriad of complex and indescribable emotions. There is a sense of relief that the situation has unfolded according to his expectation, a deep sense of gratitude that she is standing before him at this moment, and a profound pride for her that emanates from the depths of his being… just as these emotions are about to pour out of his heart sincerely, he casts his gaze downward. He leads the main gods to step aside in the shadows, creating the path for the girl to ascend the platform.

As he watches her walk step by step toward the long-unoccupied seat, Victor knows that regardless of what she might ask for, he has already prepared himself to do all that he can and give his everything for her.

—

[mad-hunts]

alright, i have come here to discuss something tonight and that topic is: barton still killing every single police officer that bothers him at the docks (except for jim, but i swear that's just for plot purposes. okay... nah 🫠 it's not lmao BUT moving on) and hating law enforcement in general + vigilantes, BUT with the new added context that he has a partner who he found out is a vigilante? well... i'm just here to say that it makes me think that doing mental gymnastics is just a daily practice for barton at this point LOL

but that's okay, because his vigilante partner is genuinely slay in his eyes + worth it. and thus, anyone who dares try to call him a hypocrite for being with her will be smacked halfway to tuesday so ❤️ (the heart essentially means don't do it JSJSJ ☠️ not to say that i would expect that anyone here would do it OFC though y'all know what i mean (,,: and oh, the mun who portrays the vigilante character that i'm talking about knows who they are tehe MUAH ilyyy)

[thatonearoacefreak]

That ask i sent (the kny one)

The way i went OH SHIT-

As i remebered tjw mini comic you posted

yeah XD it’s okay though XD

[burning-thistles-bt]

man wtf silverstrean😭😭 girlboss is here takin lightningfur’s side HRLP , and then criticizing her husband

FIGHT ME but i think SilverGray would have gotten divorced if Silver lived 😶

i love them as a "high school sweethearts"/"young love is blind"/"lust not love" trope and like you cant tell me canon Silverstream isn't a spoiled rich kid and that's exactly why i made her best friends with Lightningfur lol

the nepotism strikes hard

and like, Silverstream DOES have good morals in the end dont get me wrong, at least in canon, but not quite for BT lmao

[poppyseed799]

I miss roleplaying with random people online cuz the funniest stuff would happen

[the-cooler-king]

Me to my s/o: oh, I'm really sorry - I was so caught up with meetings and pictures that I didn't get a chance to tell you - you look incredible today

[silverselfshippingchaos]

I just know that Ash pulling one of these would drive S.eifer nuts in the best way possible

[limethefirst]

Hellooo, i hope your having a beautiful day. I saw your requests are open and that you wrote for movie shadow once. Would it be okay if maybe i requested movie shadow x a reader who prehaps eggmans niece. Maybe then when its just shadow, stone and her on the crab prehaps she takes shadow to her room on the crab and trys to play and show him some of her stuff not scared of him. Then maybe she remind him of maria 🥹? Idk i have sonic brainrot after seeing the movie today lol and ive had this idea since.

Do I look like her?

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehogs x reader (platonic)

warnings: sonic 3 spoilers

summary: as the niece of Eggman you are left behind on the crab with Shadow as the men finish their mission, but every time Shadow looks at you he sees someone else.

a/n: hii thank you so much for the request! I’ve been wanting to write more Sonic 3 fics because I love the movie so much! I hope this is to your liking and you have an amazing day!!!

You watched your uncle Robotnik and Gerald walked away together, planning to sneak into GUN and steal the final keycard they needed, leaving you, Stone and Shadow.

“I have avocados in The Crab. Let’s go make guac!” Stone chimed, both you and Shadow turned your head to look at him.

“Revenge guac.” Shadow responded, his brows furrowed watching as Stone slowly helped you back into the sewer drain.

You were warned about Shadow, he was dangerous Robotnik had told you. Robotnik was somewhat caring when it came to you, he wasn’t harsh nor rude, he saw you as a responsibility but not a burden. He was kinder around you, maybe he saw a bit of himself, being all alone in a world that tended to abandon.

Whatever it was, you knew his warnings were usually right, but having been around the hedgehog for a while you honestly didn’t believe your uncle. Shadow, although seemed tough, you could tell there was more behind the persona and all the walls he’d put up.

Stone walked over to the island in the middle of the Crab, preparing the avocados for the guacamole he planned to make.

You took the opportunity to show Shadow around. Being the youngest of the bunch you didn’t have many friends and this was a chance to make a new one.

Quickly you walked in front of Shadow, a bright smile on your face highlighting the innocence in all your features, it was eerily reminiscent of someone.

“Come, I wanna show you around!” You told Shadow, grabbing his gloved hand unannounced, making him slightly more on guard. Stone looked up from the guac he was currently working on, he seemed happy; smiling at the two kids.

Shadow didn’t say much as you dragged him to your room, he just looked at you. Watching as your hand gripped onto his, he couldn’t help but hold on as well. Fearing that if he let go he may never find it again.

As he watched you near the closed door, he couldn’t help but take in all that you were, your demeanor, your way of speaking, your bright attitude, it was just like hers.

“This is my room!” Your hand started letting go of his but his grip only tightened. You looked down at his hand and back up at him as his eyes scanned the small room. You only smiled at his gesture, not feeling the need to point it out.

As you guided him around still hand in hand you saw his eyes checking every corner of the room, “It’s small,”

Your sudden laugh catches him off guard, his head quickly turning to see your free hand covering your mouth, “Sorry sorry! It’s just that’s the first thing you say to me?” You jokingly tell the hedgehog.

He watches you for a little bit longer, his eyes widening. As he stares up at you, all he sees is her. It wasn’t physical, it wasn’t that you looked like Maria, no not at all, it was the fact your personality towards him resembled her so much.

You weren’t afraid, you approached him and didn’t see him as a weapon or some type of lab rat. It was like he was really a person around you, like he was capable of caring again.

Shadow didn’t say much, and that was okay, you could do most of the talking anyway, you enjoyed being able to finally talk to someone.

You sat Shadow down on the floor, letting go of his hand so you could show him some of the toys and games you owned, knowing he lived 50 years in the past you wanted to keep him up to date on all the newer stuff that had come up. While you were grabbing some items you decided to also play a movie, it would be cool to show him the new films they’d come out with.

He silently watched you hurry around the room, dropping strange toys onto him. He felt some weird string toys get stuck in his quills.

You heard him rustle around, seeing him pull out your worm on a string, “Very colorful,” he grunted, as he tossed the toy in the pile in front of him.

All you did was smile as you sat in front of him, describing each toy and how they worked, as the latest Godzilla movie played in the background.

It was ironic really, back then Godzilla was a monster and now he was a friend protecting the people from the other monsters.

He no longer sat with Maria watching movies and playing games, now he sat with you. Oh how things really have changed.

[tyunniez]

look at yourself, pretty... bottom male reader

!!.. amab reader, reader wears makeup, reader has a high ego, his bestfriend knocks that ego down lol, mirror sex, top likes to tease...

you stared at yourself in front of the mirror for the hundredth time today, admiring yourself and your choice of outfit for the day.

you twirled around a little checking how your shirt perfectly accentuated your waist and just how nicely your pants hugged your ass.

" i just picked the perfect outfit for today! " you yelled out while still checking yourself out in the mirror while your best friend eyed you.

" you done yet? " he asked, his voice unamused as he's already used to your behavior. you hummed while grabbing your things, already out of the room while yelling at him to hurry up.

he rolled his eyes, " i really don't get your obsession with mirrors.. " he murmured while catching up to you.

the both of you arrived at the cafe and finally managed to get a spot to sit at.

" i can't believe how crowded this place actually is.. the food better be good! " your best friend nodded while looking through the menu, already confused at some of the menu names.

while waiting for him to finish with the menu, you use the mini mirror you always bring with you to fix your hair and look at yourself.

after getting your fill and taking lots of insta worthy photos, you dragged him towards a nearby clothing store, already excited to try on new clothes.

you unlocked the door and showed yourself off to him, " so, how about this one? " you asked while twirling around to show it to him.

he looked you up and down before lazily replying. " yeah sure it looks great. can you hurry up? im getting bored. "

you tsked and closed the door again, opting to judge your outfit yourself. " ugh, you've been saying that for the past three outfits! honestly, why do i even bother asking you! " he rolled his eyes at you, even if you couldn't see it.

" though this other top might look cuter with these jeans... "

" hurry up and stop being so picky! "

after that whole fashion fiesta, you ended up buying all of it anyway, you started dragging him back and forth from place to place.

a satisfied hum escaped your lips as you suck on the spoon that contained gumball-flavored ice cream. you feel refreshed as the cold treat goes down your throat.

" ah.. this place is the best, isn't it? " you said while scooping up another spoon, already missing the taste of the sweet treat.

he hummed while licking up his strawberry ice cream, some of it already dripping down his fingers.

he watched as you set the ice cream down and pulled out your phone camera to look at yourself. " why do you keep looking at yourself on every reflective surface around you? no offense or anything.. " he suddenly asked.

you shut your phone and pick your ice cream up again while shrugging him off. " sometimes when you're just that pretty— "

a groan interrupted you, your best friend obviously annoyed at your response. you laughed at him, satisfied at annoying him again.

" i swear yn, i'm going to knock down that ego of yours. "

" i'd like to see you try. "

you shut your eyes as you tilt your head to the side. " oh no no no, don't you dare look away. " he says while forcing your head to the giant mirror in front of you. " open your fucking eyes, yn. "

you whine while forcing your eyes open to look at him, refusing to look at yourself getting dicked down in the mirror.

" come on, look at yourself pretty. don't you just love doing that? " you look down and shake your head, denying him even if he's actually right.

" i said look at yourself. it's really not that hard of a request right? " he whispered in your ear all while spreading your legs wider for you to see in the mirror.

you finally look at yourself and your dazed expression in the mirror. you glance down to look at how his dick is entering your hole, drool seeping out of your mouth.

he then slides his way onto your cock, rubbing and playing with the tip to tease you.

he laughs in your ear and lets go of your red cock, hoisting your legs up making his cock reach deeper in you and hitting that one spot.

your own best friend had you seated on him with his cock deep inside you. his two hands holding both of your legs up by grabbing under your knees.

he begins slowly, sliding you up and down his cock while enjoying your moans. he watches as your own cock twitch, begging for release already.

" hah look at you, drool down your face just because of this cock. " he taunts you causing you to shoot a glare at him using the mirror.

" s-shut up! if my makeup isn't ruined then are you even fucking me good? honestly, if you— " before your sentence could even finish, he slams you down on his dick making a loud moan escape your mouth.

" not fucking you good? oh, i'll make sure you're fucking crying after this, pretty. "

you whined out loud while trying to bury your face into the sheets, your makeup already long gone, smeared into said sheets.

he pulls your hair up to make you look up into the mirror, not even bothering to stop thrusting into you. " look at yourself pretty. see how your makeup is ruined now? " he mocks you.

you tried to look at yourself, trying to see how your mascara runs down your face because of your nonstop tears, your tears almost wiping the mascara clean. your lipstick smears itself all over your lips with drool and moans escaping from it.

but your eyes keep rolling up from the pleasure, your tears making your vision blurry.

he laughs as he watches your attempt at focusing on yourself, loving the way your eyes kept rolling upwards from how good he's fucking you.

" come on pretty, just look at yourself. don't you love to do that? " he forces your head back down into the sheets, muffling your moans and whines all while cumming into you for the third time already.

he then starts rubbing your cock, your previous release acting as lube for it.

you moan out loud into the sheets as you shoot your load for the fifth time already. "mmh.. no more! " you beg him, your voice muffled.

" ehh..? but im just starting to have fun! "

[mrs-weasley-reid]

JULY REC FICS

Hello, my sweets!! I wanted to try something out to provide my full and utter support to all the amazing writers I've come across in the form of monthly rec fics (starting this month). Join me in giving them love through comments and reblogs. It really is a joy to hear how you're doing as a writer. It makes up for all the angst we write lol

I will be going based on what I've read recently and not by the date the fic was posted. And the number of fics will depend on how much I've read the entire month. Also, please respect these writers. Some contents are 18+, so MINORS should not be interacting in any way, especially when the authors themselves specify it.

— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿

Spencer Reid

✿ a question unasked by @easy-there-leftovers ↳ SOOOO ADORABLE. I'm a workaholic craze gal, so it speaks to me on a silly level.

✿ missing the happy hormone by @lavenderspence ↳ I'm a sucker for Spencer fluff this month, what can I say? This fic Tina made had my waterworks going on for about a minute because it's so sweet

✿ desk duty by @reiderwriter ↳ All you have to know is the amount of evil laugh I made while reading this

✿ the theory of love by @ophelia-is-complex ↳ Genuine intimacy is quite a challenge to write, but THIS ONE, this one had me in a sappy mood

✿ like nothing matters by @cerisereids ↳ gagged and had to pause the reading so many times because HELLO— had me spiraling at work

✿ the devils disguise by @qlossytbh ↳ I said I sobbed a little bit, but I actually cried so much I ended up taking a nap and felt better afterward. It's all fluff, though, don't get me wrong. I'm just very dramatic when the red devil's on the clock

✿ not so funny by @reidmania ↳ Angsty, that made me wanna start a fight with some random twiggy tall guy. Sooooo good!

✿ cloaked in passions touch by @raekensluver ↳ If you don't like Spencer's hands, you're fucking lying to yourself!!!!!

✿ language of devotion by @gghostwriter ↳ I'm in love with reid, and this fic just had me stumbling back onto his lap like a good gal

✿ this req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ Sorry, I'm not sure what the title is, but it's so adorable and got me to go to work, so kind of a lifesaver tbh

✿ hallucinate by @gghostwriter ↳ Oooo, this one was so cute, hehe. Honestly, I lean towards Spencer fluff lately just because I've been too overstimulated with work this past month, so READ THIS ONE ITS CUTE

✿ it's golden, like daylight by @dudeitiskarev ↳ I actually felt like I was reader the entire time I read this. It's well-written and so adorable and something that should be framed in a museum

✿ much ado about nothing series by @incognit0slut ↳ binged it all morning, and I was whipped !!! It's ongoing, so if I have to wait, so does everybody else

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Aaron Hotchner

✦ choiceless hope series by @hotchfiles ↳ This series had me rolling over my bed on a Saturday. A lot of feelings getting played (mostly mine)

✦ beanstalk by @solardrop ↳ I kid you not; I was giggling like a weirdo when I read it. And that itself deserves the recommendation.

✦ too busy being yours by @hotchfiles ↳ Lari knows how to get a sick gal to giggle. I love bau!rossi!reader. I love Rossi as reader's dad, so I enjoyed it more than I thought I would

✦ ignorance by infatuation by @boneblushed ↳ Oh, this one was a nice snack while on my break at work. LOVED IT SO MUCH

✦ hungover by @basketonthedoorstepofthefbi ↳ Mmmm, such a good read! Plus Jemily is there sooooo

✦ from across the bar by @hotchscoffeecup ↳ Evil laugh ensues. A nice cuppa of some good ole kinky stuff

✦ doomed by @hotchfiles ↳ guys, I stopped my car in the middle of driving home just to read it, so it's THAT good. Honestly, I strongly encourage everyone to read all of Lari's works! She's my writer crush, if none of you realized it by now

✦ a bunch of cuties in love by @lavenderspence ↳ hehehehehehe this definitely did not remind me of that one older guy I used to flirt with who had an adorable younger brother that I babysat🤭

✦ schrodinger's cat by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ angst on a Saturday morning is like taking a shot of soju before 11 am, and this one felt like it <3

how about you also comment your top 3 fave fics for this month to spread more love to our great writers?

[mad-hunts]

there is nothing so cruel as memory — and this not only applied to the jarring snapshot that barton was given of a much happier time in his life through the photograph he found. he couldn't help but start to reflect upon how both louis, as well as matilda, weren't even six months old whenever marceline died. which meant that they would only ever and still do only know of their mother through barton's word of mouth. with that, the level of sorrow that came from knowing that he had everything one day and the next, he only had but a fraction of that was something he was convinced would kill him back then.

but the fact of the matter was, barton knew deep down that that was something he couldn't let happen. because matilda and louis needed him. so making peace with marcy's death was, unfortunately, a harsh reality barton had to face. the doctor did contribute finding winslow, his surrogate father, mostly all up to luck after all. and so giving up on them was not an option. but the toxic point of view that barton's bio father likely would've enforced upon him (to simply 'pull himself up by the bootstraps' as if it were that easy) wasn't going to work. so, therapy seemed like the most viable option to help him cope with the massive amount of grief he felt.

thankfully, going to it was the right decision in the end. the funny thing about grief, though, is that it isn't linear. and like the waves of an ocean... the feeling that you're missing someone fundamental to your life comes back in to hit you when you least expect it. barton flexed one of his hands repeatedly as he tried to get his mind off of it. he supposed that, eventually, doing nothing in this space would end up making him and possibly jervis as well lose their marbles anyhow. barton's work. before he had gotten into their current mess, he was working on a new 'piece,' he thought.

well, the deadline that the doctor had to finish it by before was hopeless for him to reach now. they wanted it in just two weeks time and who knows how long they'd have to be camping out in the old car warehouse? but that could easily be explained away. just like artists couldn't be rushed, barton didn't produce his 'dolls' well under a lot of pressure. nerves and skin alike were delicate. it made him wonder whether jervis still remembered the woman who'd been on his autopsy table when they met.

for even though the horror of it all was something barton was used to by now, even relished in... he was a very empathetic person and so barton could see how it could haunt the other in a way. so the expression 'different as night and day' might as well have been created for them all things considered. barton scratched at the IV in his wrist, mentally figuring out if he could give jervis more pain meds than jack had administered to him. assuming his son had given him the proper dosage. barton hummed noncommittally before deciding to consult jack about it first.

❝ i suppose my son's bedside manner was lacking a bit when he gave you that tea, then. i mean he obviously meant well, but i think it would've been easier for you to drink it with a straw, ❞ an amused snort left barton and pretty much guaranteed that he wasn't mad at jack for it afterward. he was still young after all - and he was still trying to drill all of the 'in's and out's' of medicine that he could teach him into his head. but it didn't seem to be where jack's passion lied, the line the other uttered aloud being what ultimately broke barton out of his thoughts.

the room proceeded to become deafeningly silent at that moment. squinting at the other was the doctor's immediate response, trying to recall where exactly he might've heard that. maybe it was biblical? barton was surprised that jervis would recite it, though, in that case because he didn't peg him as the 'religious type.' it sounded like he was expressing to barton that he supposed he might've felt like he wished his suffering could be quantified, however. categorizing his misery in those years seemed like an impossible venture though... but perhaps that was the point of the whole quote?

barton didn't want to be considered a 'victim' of his father, and from the way this was sounding, jervis almost seemed to be implying that. he could acknowledge that wesley put him through pain but he didn't want to redefine who he was in the process. heat began to rush to barton's head, and it was like he felt like he wanted to jump out of his own skin. ❝ yeah. you don't know anything about me, because even if you witnessed everything my father did? you wouldn't understand how it made me feel because you'd still be separated from it all. ❞

barton admittedly sounded a bit bitter as he spoke, but didn't care to address that right now. jervis was comparing their situations and it made him inhale sharply whilst he covered his face with both palms. he had nothing to say about that, though, but when what he guessed were babies were brought up... he ran his hands down his face to finally reveal it once more. ❝ mm, well, i could discuss how senselessly out of control some of the events that have happened to me and to others around me have seemed all day with you. but i don't want to. its depressing, but yes, my son is adopted but he's still mine. and that's better than what would've happened if the two of them remained abandoned for longer. ❞

barton stated this in a very 'matter-of-fact' tone before he turned over all the cards that he pulled for jervis. then, seemingly right on time, jack came back into the picture with breakfast for dinner for him. that plate was gently set on the bedside cabinet. barton looked over to his son as if to check on him then. yes, he actually did appear to have taken on a pallor. barton tilted his head and promptly inquired to jack about it, ❝ are you feeling okay, punaise d'amour? (lovebug?) ❞ his son scratched the back of his neck and gnawed on his bottom lip.

❝ yeah. i probably just need to eat, like jervis said. i'll be right back, ❞ jack stifled a smile and subsequently left, not even giving barton a second to protest. he shook his head only partially jokingly afterward while saying, ❝ ugh, that boy... if he was feeling bad then i easily could have got it for him. but i guess we're starting with the 'wheel of fortune' card. ❞

Bright domes of blood welled up from the corner of Jervis' mouth; his earlier, absent worrying with his teeth had succeeded in breaking the thin skin yet again. The yuja tea took on a faint ruddy tint, a visual stimuli preceding the taste of iron on his tongue. He tried to lick it away as discreetly as he could behind his cup, still chewing meditatively on the rind, bowing his head and letting his hair cover his profile for the briefest of moments.

Better my lip than my cuticles or my hair. The last thing I need is to start wearing knit caps all the time, or to pick up a fungal infection from this wretched place. One more reason to scrub myself raw and bury every possible inch in a hundred layers of clothing, eh? Old habits died hard; kicking and screaming as they were buried. Some were easier to tame. Others proved more obstinate, harder to shake; their roots sunk deep.

Trauma and time changes us all.

Barton's agitation swirled around him like a dark cloud; foreboding. A marionette with scorching strings, desperately trying to maintain his center of gravity. Those talons he called fingernails were restless; always moving, always touching. Somehow, it reminded Jervis of a hawk keeping vigil. That thought wasn't exactly comforting, if he were being completely honest. He flinched as the memory of their first encounter, so many weeks ago in the other man's workshop, came bubbling to the surface; ripples in a cistern, deep and dark and unfathomably placid. The kind of quiet that said, "Don't look away."

Jervis' stomach pitched as he recalled the corpse Barton had uncovered; what he had done to her face.

The scalpel had glided with precision, following the intricate pathways of the supraorbital and supratrochlear nerves—key branches of the trigeminal nerve, those delicate conduits that carried every flicker of sensation from the scalp and forehead to the brain. Though that was a moot point, considering none of these nerves or even the skin itself were alive any longer.

Just atoms and molecules; a patchwork of bone, blood, muscles and sinew; dregs of various neurochemicals and hormones long halting as the vitality they once sustained shuffled off the mortal coil, grown stagnant. But still undeniably a person. Human. Utterly devoid of dignity in death; an affliction all suffer, in some shape or form.

Each was duly severed, spawning an unseen fire in their wake. Dispassionate. Meticulous. Gloved fingers swept through the woman's hair, clearing the path; dyed a dishwater-blonde, slightly curly.

A miniature gardening knife plowing through equally Lilliputian stalks of wheat.

Jervis swallowed hard, the chill cutting deeper than skin; positively algid. Barton’s boots scraped faintly against the concrete, his IV pole swaying in tandem. Under the flickering lights, his tousled curls caught the gleam, fair strands shimmering like fragile, golden lacework. He paused beside Jervis' own IV, studied it.

"A bit of both, I think..." No sense in hiding it. It was plainly writ in the overwrought cast of his shoulders, the tension in his jaw; the dim light in his eyes. Jervis tightened his grip on the blanket, on the teacup. Cast his eyes about the room. Wary, half-hooded. Dark gray irises shone against the whites, through his lashes, landed on the cards Jack had cut and dealt.

Rabbit feeling the snare brushing against its hind leg, desperate to escape being baked into a pie.

His heart sunk, as Barton spoke of his son. Paternal instinct and empathy flared again; a gleam of recognition, in a sense, too. A soft, rueful, humorless sort of chuckle escaped him, quick as a hiccup.

"'Oh, that my vexations were but weighed, and all my calamities laid in the balance.'"

Barton's hand froze on the IV. The absence of those pearly white lenses or that hideous mask did nothing to temper the intensity of his gaze; a blonde lock fell across his forehead as he tilted his head; scrutinized him, features as blank as if they'd been scrubbed clean of any nuance by unseen hands. Not quite anger, or so it seemed; not quite amusement at his extemporaneous rehash, either... curiosity? Confusion? Consternation? He couldn't tell. But it rolled off him all the same.

Jervis' ears flushing were the only signs he had any blood still circulating in his system, his pallor was so pronounced. He bowed his head; shook it softly. Shrugged in apology. Forget it. It's nothing; I meant nothing by it. Tapping his nails anxiously against the porcelain saucer clutched loosely in his fingers. Bloody hell... did I really just say that out loud? "Sorry... it's the first thing that came to mind... I didn't mean for it to slip out, wasn’t trying to come off..." He sighed, cheeks expanding; breath whistling faintly; eyebrows bunching together.

"... like I told you when we first met, I'm not insulting you. I'm not pretending to know anything about you, and I'm certainly not pitying you." His free hand curled back into the blanket; followed the demarcations of each colored square. "But I do know something about living in fear; of uncertainty, displacement." His lips thinned, twitched; a subtle rictus stretching along Jervis' cheek and nostrils for the space of a couple heartbeats. "People like to say everything happens for a reason, but not all events can be considered blessings; not by any stretch... especially when bairns are involved."

He turned back to the tarot deck. "In any case... scotching the snake, breaking the cycle... that's brilliant."

Silence fell. Barton gave him another long stare.

Jervis stared back and did not move.

Barton turned away, headed to the cards and drew three painted images. A wheel, six swords stretching upwards. A sun. His eyes roamed along their features; sharp, incisive.

Jervis' ears pricked up at another set of approaching footsteps; smelling eggs and jam preserves. Ahh...

"I hope there's enough left over for yourself," he murmured faintly, not unkindly, as he turned his head to look at Jack. "You look a bit peaky."

[sophie-looks-at-stuff]

As You Wish

Pairing: Aemond x wife reader

Summary: Aemond's new wife has a moment of reflection wondering if her new husband truly cares for her. Aemond is determined to prove to her that he is utterly devoted to her.

Warnings: smut, some slight angst? maybe idk honestly haha, Aemond loves his wife he just has issues expressing it lol, p in v, oral (f receiving) man is a champ when it comes to that, praise, 18+, vulgar language lol, slight breeding kink

AN: hey y'all! long time no see haha, I finally watched the season 2 hotd premiere last night and had to finally write something! this is my first go at a legit fic and not just headcanons so don't be too judgy haha. but I hope y'all enjoy it! :)

PS: it is unedited rn, but I was just too excited to post it, so I'll edit it later!

The rose-scented bubbles of the bath water lapped soothingly against your flesh. This had become your routine, after the evening's supper or feast you would call to your handmaid to draw a bath. Scalding hot water, warm enough to turn your skin pink upon contact. The boiling water and the familiar scent of the roses were one of the few things that brought you comfort after your marriage to Prince Aemond. Your family had come seasonally to court for many moons now, your mother being a friend of Queen Alicent. As your brothers sparred with the young princes in the training grounds, you took more kindly towards the gardens. Wandering around the maze of flowers and bushes searching for faeries and nymphs. Of course, you had been only a child then and had not yet known that such silly things don’t exist. 

It had been the Prince himself that informed you of such. You had been crouched on your knees before a bed of yellow roses, looking between the stems and leaves for the little creatures. The skirts of your dress soiled and stained brown from the earth beneath you. You had been so preoccupied with searching for them, that you hadn’t heard the crunching of grass and footsteps behind you.

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing?” Aemond had asked you, voice bitter but curious. You stood up hastily, nearly tripping on your own two feet as you spun around and curtsied clumsily. 

“I am searching for faeries my Prince. Mother said that they can be found amongst the stems of the most beautiful flowers!” Your small hands began to nervously dust themselves off on your already dirty skirts. Aemond’s eye followed the motion, his upper lip curling in disgust. It had only been a couple of moons since the young prince had lost his eye. The scar was still fresh and red around the edges, the eyepatch clearly bothering him. For it appeared to be fastened too tight around his head. 

“Don’t be absurd, such pathetic things don’t exist. All you’ve succeeded in doing is soiling your clothes.” He motions down towards your skirts, your cheeks heating in embarrassment. Feeling ashamed to be talked down upon by someone you hoped to be a potential friend. Even though his eye, or lack thereof, scared most, you had found it intriguing. Your father had told you stories of men in faraway places who wore their scars like badges of honor, like trophies of war. The marred skin being a testament to their victories in battle. Your father however did not return to tell the tails of his own scars, for he had passed in the Stepstones, aiding Lord Corlys and Prince Daemon in their war. 

“My apologies my Prince, for I-” you dared a look up into face, his brows knit together, arms crossed over his chest. You lowered your eyes in shame once more “I shall go change my skirts at once.” And with that you darted off, not waiting for a response from the young Targaryen. 

That had been many years ago though, and you were no longer a child, and nor was he. Prince Aemond had grown into a handsome man, not just physically, but intellectually as well. The water of your bath had grown tepid as you recalled the memory, a slight frown adorning your features. Why had he wanted to marry you? He hardly had shown any interest, more likely it was because his mother and grandfather craved the military prowess your family possessed. They needed it for the impending war. So a proposal for your hand had been made, and your eldest brother eagerly accepted. After your father’s passing, and your mother grew older in age he had taken it upon himself to attend to the coming and goings of your house. 

It wasn’t that Aemond was exactly an unkind husband, he just wasn’t present, ever. There was always a reason or excuse for him to leave a room once you arrived. The only full night you had spent with him had been your wedding night, in your marital bed. He wasn’t rough, nor was he gentle, but he possessed an air of duty and responsibility when it came to the consummation. For once he spilled his spend inside of you he had fetched a cloth for you to clean yourself. Then turned his back to you and slept, not uttering another word. 

The sound of your chamber doors creaking open drew you from your thoughts. The clanking of a sword and heavy footsteps made their way towards you in the bathing room. You were met with the sight of your rather disheveled lord husband. Before you could offer him a greeting, however, his eye lifted to your face, and he asked: 

“May I join you?” Taken aback slightly by the question there was a pause, the room silent. Then, you nodded, “Yes, yes of course you may husband.” 

Aemond had waited for your approval before stripping himself bare of his clothes, riding clothes by the looks of it. He must have been out on Vhagar. You observe him as he untethered his belts and the laces of his boots. The years of training had done him well, his arms and back muscles lean and corded. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to drag your nails down them, as he fucked into you–

“Wife? Did you hear me?” Shit, he must have asked you something, looking up from the muscles of his arms to meet his eyes you shook your head. He chuckled a bit, smirking, you had been caught in your staring.

“I asked you, how was your day my lady wife.” A hint of amusement laced his voice, he had rid himself of his clothes, having placed them neatly over the back of one of the armchairs in the rooms. 

“Oh, well, it was alright. Nothing too exciting I'm afraid. I did have tea with your mother and sister though. That was quite pleasant, Helaena was telling me of the butterflies that come for the roses this time of year. She said we must go see them once they arrive.” As you spoke Aemond made his way around the tub, to behind you. It took an embarrassingly great deal of effort not to stare as he had presented himself bare before you. To look only above his waist and not let your eyes drift down towards his cock. 

“Mmh, yes we must see them then,” his cold hands met your shoulder blades, rubbing small, soothing, circles on them. This was his way of telling you to move forward, so that he may join you in the tub, taking his place behind you, and pulling you onto his lap. 

“You take such tepid baths wife. You’ll catch a cold one of these days.” He mumbled into your ear as he made himself comfortable behind you, his legs outstretched beside your own. It wasn’t that such small talk was uncommon between the two of you when he was around. Besides, you two did share chambers, so despite his avoidance during the day, he was bound to return to you at night. 

Turning fully to face him now, with a surge of annoyance, the water sloshing around the two of you with your sudden movements. “Why do you care? You are hardly even here to see me as is, I doubt you would even notice.” Aemond’s singular lilac eye widens, not from anger, but rather from surprise. His lady wife was always so sweet, so silent, this was new, and dare he say exciting. 

“A woman can only take so much you know–” You go to stand, to leave the tub, and go to bed, done with whatever this conversation is. Aemond’s hand shoots out to grasp your wrist, stopping you from doing so. 

“Wait!” It came out more harsh than he had intended. “I do care for you my lady, truly I do. I did not know that you–”

“Prove it.” You say interrupting whatever he is about to tell you. You keep your eyes level and voice steady. “Prove it to me then husband,”

Aemond says only one thing before attacking your lips, “As you wish,” He is not gentle in his kisses, he does not know how to be gentle. Perhaps you could teach him. His grasp on your wrist moves to your waist as he continues his assault on your lips. His hands roam the flesh of your waist, your hips, your thighs, his lips move down towards your neck. Biting and nipping at the flesh there, sure to leave a mark for all to see.

“Aemond–” 

“Shhh, let me take care of you tonight. Let me prove to you how much I desire you, my love.” He murmurs between bites and kisses. He pulls back, only for a moment, “You are beautiful, I am sorry I have not told you this enough,” his lips attach themselves to one of your breasts, suckling at the nipple. You let out a surprised breath as he bites down, a wave of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

His roaming hands have found purchase on your ass, his deft fingers kneading the plump flesh. Suddenly his grip becomes tighter as he rises from the tub with you in his arms, water spilling over the sides and onto the floor. You hurriedly wrap your arms around his neck, in an attempt to steady yourself. 

“Aemond! You’ve made a mess–” He laughs, fully this time, not just a chuckle. It’s a lovely sound you think.

 “Fuck the mess, the maids shall deal with it in the morning. I’ve neglected my dear lady wife and that must be rectified immediately. One of the hands on your ass pulls back and gives it a small slap. You gasp in surprise, tucking your face into his neck, peppering small kisses there, just as he had done to you moments before. You could get used to this side of your husband. Aemond lets out a hum of satisfaction at your ministrations, soon after playfully throwing you down onto your shared bed. 

“Aemond the sheets, they’re soaked now–” you began to protest cut off rather abruptly by his grip on your ankles. Pulling you down towards the end of the mattress, your cunt now level with his lips. 

“That should hardly matter, we have others–” he places a kiss on your inner thigh. “Besides the only thing I care to see soaked is your cunt after I am done–” Without another word or hesitation, Aemond licks a hot stripe up the center of your core. Then a second, and a third, until he loses all control. He devours you like a man starved. His strong arms wrap themselves around your things, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His tongue continues its assault on your cunt.

“You taste of the finest ambrosia–” the vibrations of his voice sending shock waves of electricity to your clit. Aemond is only spurred on further by the sound of your sweet moans. His name falling from your lips like a chant, like a prayer to the Seven. His lips find purchase on your clit, sucking and licking till you're writhing beneath him. Your hands shoot down, finding purchase in his long silver locks.

“Aemond, oh Aemond–” the words spill from your lips like nonsense. The only thing you are able to focus on is his lips and tongue lapping at your cunt. The man between your thighs devouring you like this is his last meal alive.

“Cum for me, cum on my tongue. And then I shall reward you with my cock. Cum for me my love–” As if on command, you feel the muscles of your lower abdomen contract, and then all that lovely pleasure overflows, and bursts from you. With a strangled cry of his name, you cum on his tongue. You look down at your husband between your thighs, his lips glistening in your release. 

“Good girl, my good, sweet, perfect girl. You did exactly what I asked,” he crawls up your body, stopping only to place the occasional kiss to your hot skin. His lips return to your neck, sucking love marks into the skin over the faint ones he had left before. A newfound favorite of his perhaps. He gives his cock a few strokes, his thumb collecting the beading drop of arousal from his tip. Wordlessly, he brings the digit up to your lips, pressing down gently on your bottom one. You open your mouth, sucking the essence from his finger, swirling your tongue around it, eager to please him. He groans in response, resting his forehead on yours, 

“Perhaps another night my love, I need to be inside of you now.” You release his thumb with a slight pop. 

“Fuck me then, husband–” Not needing any further encouragement, Aemond sheathes his cock inside of your cunt. The warm, velvety walls squeezing him perfectly. “Fuck–” he moans breathlessly as he slowly begins to thrust into your weeping cunt. The squelching noises from his movements turn your cheeks red, you move to hide your face in the crook of his neck once more, but a hand on your chin stops you. From above, Aemond’s lilac eye bores into your own, like a spell, you are unable to look away.

Aemond’s thrusting becomes faster, harder, like a man starved. The grasp on your chin returns to your hips. As Aemond rolls back slightly, sitting on his knees, he brings your hips to meet his, your back still on the bed. From this angle he has full control over your body, not that he hadn’t before. But now he could control his thrusts, making them sharper, harder. Beneath him, your eyes screw shut in pleasure, consumed by his ministrations. 

You look beautiful like this, he thinks. Cheeks red, hair a mess, sweat glistening on your skin. He had been a fool before, not indulging you more often. Not being by your side, it was a mistake he would make no more. He had been too afraid of your rejection, too afraid you would find him repulsive because of his scar. The scar that he himself found so disturbing. But clearly, the way his name fell from your lips, as your face contorted in pleasure, this was not the case. 

“Shall I cum inside of your perfect cunt? Shall I plant my seed, and watch you grow and swell with my child?” He barely recognized the words coming from his lips, too lost in carnal desire to notice. 

“Yes, yes Aemond, yes–” the words leaving your lips like a hymn, a prayer to your lord husband. Aemond’s fingers began to circle your bud as he continued to rut into you. 

“Together then, I can feel you little wife–” As if he possessed some kind of magic, you did as commanded. Aemond’s release coating your walls, both of you warm and well sated. Once more he leans down, leaving a small peck on your lips before resting his forehead on yours. 

“I have been a fool, a complete and utter fool. I am not a great man in many ways my sweet lady wife. But for you perhaps I could be,” He places another kiss on your lips. 

“I would like that very much Aemond,” you smile a bit as you say this because it is true and it would be unfair to not allow him to prove as much. After all, that is what you asked of him is it not? Without pulling out or away from you, Aemond rolls to his side, tucking you into him, desperate to keep you in his arms. 

“Stay like this with me tonight, please?” He asks, afraid you’ll send him away. 

“Tonight and every night if you behave,” you give him a slight pinch to add emphasis to your comment. You feel his chest vibrate against your cheek with laughter. 

“As you wish,” he says one final time, as the two of you drift off to sleep, held safely in the arms of one another.