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uncleasriel · 4 months ago

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Fate also has a robust SRD, too!

As someone who played (and loved) Fate many years ago, I think Trad isn't a bad way to frame it. I's also describe it as crunchy - rules are fairly comprehensive and exacting, especially the Damage/Stress rules.

However, there are in a very specific way - they all revolve around the economy of Fate Points (tokens swapped between GMs, Players and a generic bank/pile) and Aspects (Flavorful, pithy phrase tied to Player Character, NPC, environment, item, etc). Anything that could be Narrative Significant has Aspects (e.g In a James Bond-ish spy game a shifty NPC could have the aspects Suspicious and Villain's Informant, a Lost Jungle City in a pulpy 30s adventure game might have aspects like Crumbling Ruins and Overgrown By The Jungle), and both Players and GM can spend their limited pools of Fate points to gain advantages for dealing with challenges they face whe dealing with these people and things.

For instance the GM can spend a Fate Point to have the shifty NPC snap a surreptitious photograph of the players to send to the BBEG to incrimnate them, or the players fighting off The Nazi Professor Belloc can spend to a FP to make the Crumbling Ruins to block the path Belloc's goons were using to try to get the The Sacred Jewel Of P'Lot De'Vice. So long as they have the Points, they can spend the points to boost the results of any rolls they make to deal with the situation (such as rolling Stealth or Disguise to conceal the fact they they're moving through the area with the suspicious NPC, or rolling Archaeology or Structural Engineering or Military Tactics to deal with the Nazi goons in The Lost City).

There are systems for tracking Stress as a consequence, which are a little involved (basically, you take "Damage" on a Stress track, which leads to the player being "Taken Out" (unable to act for the rest of the scene and at the mercy of whoever's deciding to narrate their fate, e.g. the whoever 'Took them Out'.) Players can avoid this by taking Consequence Aspects, which are Aspects that get inflicted on them from the scene, negotiated between the one writing the Aspect and the one recieving it (e.g. the players noticed by the NPC might gain the Aspect "Tailed By The Snitches" for the rest of the scene; the Players waned The Nazi to be Crushed By The Falling Rocks while GM still wants to use Belloc & co for later adventures, so they compromise with the having the Nazi's fate be Trapped Under Fallen Rocks instead).

in shoret, Fate points represent the "Narrative Momentum" that any side in a conflict might have, Aspects are the Things/Elements in a scene that might be used to sway how this conflict goes, and Stress and its Consequences represents how the aftermaths of the conflicts linger and affecy the characters in the short and longer term.

Given that there are some special rules involving how Aspects newly created in a scene can be used for the first time in a scene DON'T cost Fate points meant this can doomspiral FAST for the affected parties. This can be a little dull for more combat-focused players who like the mechanical challenge of trying to master a Combat scenario (like how 4E D&D does tactical combat) , but if you're more about engaging with a scene on an emotional or plot-based level (e.g. You're not especially interested in HOW James Bond beats up the enemy spies or Indian Jones whups the Nazi in a blow-by-blow sense, but want to explore the tension and excitement that comes about in leading up to those scenes or comes from their fallout) then Fate might be right up your alley, especially if you're able to compromise with other folks in telling an exciting story.

Fate Condesnsed seems to be the best starting point, as it has the most refined formulation of the rules in a way that's easy, but the other versions are also available in the SRD if you want to give them a go~!

A lot of people's issues with modern D&D would be immediately fixed if they accepted the game for what its rules actually say the game is trying to achieve (even though the rules are usually not vocal about it and you kind of have to divine that purpose).

Like, a lot of GMs seem to stress over making their games challenging enough but not too lethal because if the dreaded TPK happens or a character dies before fulfilling their personal arc then the narrative momentum of the game dies. But like:

Death is pretty much the only consequence of note in modern D&D. It might not be a fun consequence but without it you lose all tension

The fact that death is always on the table should be an indication that the game itself does not care about narrative continuity nor your characters' personal arcs.

Despite all the modern guardrails and mechanics like bonds and ideals that are supposed to add character death, D&D is ultimately a "some assholes go to die in a ditch" type of game. And that's okay. But playing it as a "I must preserve narrative continuity and make sure characters stay alive or else my plans are ruined" game means an uphill battle against the game itself.

#ttrpg discussion #indie ttrpgs #fate ttrpg #trrpg discourse #I personally love Fate but some folks find thinking in terms of narrative beats a little abstract or hard to grasp #so be warned that folks who think in terms of Robust Mechanics With Definite Boundaries might be a little lost #“You mean my Monks Power Of A Thousand Fists” Aspect doesn't give me multiple attacks?“#“No it just means that you're rapid Kung Fu style gets a bonus when use use it in a fihgt”#“But I don't attack differently from the barbarian's Feral Smashing Blows!”#“That's right - because this game isn't as preocucpied with combat-as-a-tactical-exercise as it is about Interacting With Genre Conventions #I do love me some tactical combat #but combat in Fate is more of a means to an end of determining a scene's outcome #rather than its own kind of minigame

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valictini · 1 month ago

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« BONK. » [Deals massive paper damage to all enemies and stuns them, resetting their action bar]

Been meaning to draw Nille more, trying to really figure out her design, and then I wanted to give her a cool battle pose suddenly and now I have a special skill battle sprite for her hehehe

I made the executive decision to give her paper craft because the Pose is Cooler this way. I know paper craft is more like, casting ranged spells and not really about physically hitting things… but see! Paper craft is also known as Creative Craft!! And Nille is being SO creative there by bringing a hammer to the table!! And if you think about it, as @staraste so eloquently put it, « What is a hammer if not a book on a stick ? » Flawless logic.

And when I finished drawing her… well, I wanted to try my hand at drawing my human Loop in a more dynamic pose as well!

« BRIGHT BRIGHT BRIGHT ! » [Makes all ennemies miss 1 to 3 attacks during the next turns]

Resident fallen star makes up a new hand sign to direct some of the craft that’s burning in their chest! Is it Wish craft? Star craft?? Them craft??? Who knows! I just wanted to give them that dramatic pose :3 For the skill itself, I didn’t want them to do actual attacks because I feel like there IS some wish craft involved and the last thing they want is to like, kill people by accidentally wishing them to lose or something. So distraction it is! Get blinded, idiots!

Also bonus Nille without the FX because I was really happy with how her hair turned out:

#isat #isat spoilers #in stars and time #in stars and time spoilers #isat two hats #isat nille #isat petronille #isat loop #washed up loop au #isat au #isat fanart #my art

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luffington · 3 months ago

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nurse's office ♡

➤ summary: Even doctors need check-ups, so you indulge your boyfriend and put on a sexy nurse costume. (18+)

➤ pairing: trafalgar law x afab!reader

➤ word count: 3.1k

➤ warnings: switch!law, modern AU, nurse-patient roleplay, praise kink, established relationship, fluff, silly porn dialogue, fem reader

➤ notes: i LOVE law with all my heart but i have such a hard time writing him.... hopefully this turned out okay and it's accurate to his character :')

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

When you returned to your apartment after work, the lights were on and a familiar black trench coat hung in the entrance, but the coat’s owner was nowhere in sight. You called his name as you slipped off your shoes and received no response.

A muffled noise coming from your shared bedroom caught your attention.

Curious, you crept through the living room and creaked open the door just enough to slip inside. Law sat at his desk in the dark with his back turned away from you. Completely focused on his dimmed laptop screen with headphones plugged in and unaware of your presence. A smile spread across your face when you noticed what he was watching.

A busty brunette woman in an incredibly cliché nurse outfit batted her fake eyelashes at the camera as she deep-throated her patient’s dick. Your boyfriend’s inked hand rose up and down his own cock, eyes half-lidded and biting his lip to attempt to stifle his throaty groans. When you were literally right behind him, you leaned over his shoulder to read the video title out loud. “‘The Best Prescription In Town Is A Dose Of This Naughty Nurse’s Pussy’?”

Law’s entire body went cold.

“I-It’s not what it looks like!” He panicked, whipping his head towards you and accidentally ripping his headphones cord out of the jack. Exaggerated and unrealistic slurping sounds, accompanied by the male actor’s moans, started playing at full volume. Law forgot how his typically agile fingers worked as he rushed to pause the video. He was ready to diagnose himself with a heart attack.

Your eyes flickered to the bottle of lube and box of tissues beside his laptop. “I think it’s exactly what it looks like.”

“No, I…” Embarrassment flooded his veins and he scrambled for a logical explanation. You were clearly amused instead of upset, but that didn’t deter him. Steeling his nerves, your boyfriend cleared his throat and prayed his voice didn’t shake. “I wanted to see how accurate this was, but it’s a disgusting mockery of nurses. This is completely inappropriate in a real hospital.”

“Well, duh,” you chuckled and rolled your eyes. You leaned closer to study the other tabs open in his incognito mode browser. One search for ‘hot nurse’ and another for ‘nurse fucks patient’. A second video titled ‘Nursing Student Gives Penis Exam’. A spark ignited in you. “Law, is this what you’re into?”

He stayed silent and let his head fall down in shame – which only directed your gaze to his quickly softening dick – as he mumbled a timid apology.

“Oh, baby, you have nothing to apologize for.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and nuzzled against his neck. “Please don’t be embarrassed, I genuinely wanna know what turns you on. I won’t judge, I promise.”

“You’re prettier than everyone in these videos,” was his only response. He was such a sweetheart without even trying.

Even though you’d been together for quite a while, Law still had a hard time discussing his kinks. The man had a neurotic need to protect his innermost thoughts and thick iron walls guarding every part of his mind. It took a lot of time and patience, but you’d managed to break down most of his barriers. You wanted him to trust you and feel comfortable around you; having fun in the bedroom was just a bonus.

Pressing your lips to his ear, you teasingly whispered, “I can buy a nurse costume, you know.”

“Huh? Are you serious?!” Wide gray eyes met yours, a flurry of emotions overtaking his stressed-out expression.

“Of course! I’ll look for a cute one right now.” You pulled out your phone, pausing before opening your browser to bat your eyelashes and say, “Only if you want me to.”

“I – I…” Law fumbled for words, unable to keep up with the thoughts racing through his brain. After a moment of hesitation, he licked his dry lips and hastily leaned over to look at your screen. “Let me see the options.”

The costume was set to arrive in 3-4 business days, which gave you and Law plenty of time to talk and plan. Both of you discussed what you wanted out of the scenario and what you each felt comfortable doing. You promised Law you’d do actual research by watching nurse pornos in order to imitate them, and he swore to never correct you mid-scene with his accurate medical knowledge.

His steely eyes lit up when he spoke and made your heart flutter with love. As an accomplished surgeon, he took care of countless patients every day – of course he wanted someone to do the same for him. Nothing was sexier than seeing Law turn to putty in your hands, happily melting into your protection.

The fateful night arrived with a flimsy package at your front door.

Law sat on the couch in the ‘waiting room’ (also known as the living room), anxiously rubbing the letters tattooed on his knuckles and bouncing his legs. His throat was parched, his heart was racing, and his dick was already getting hard.

His jaw dropped when you opened the bedroom door – no, your office. The tight white dress hugged your body perfectly, accentuating all of your best features. Firetruck red stripes lined the sleeves and collar, and a prominent zipper ran all the way down the front. Your boobs were spilling out of the low-cut top and the skirt barely covered your upper thighs. A dainty white hat sat atop your head, sporting a white cross in a red circle that matched the one on your breast pocket. The look was complete with thigh-high white stockings, lacy crimson lingerie, Law’s real stethoscope around your neck, and a notebook and pen in your hand.

“Trafalgar Law?” You called out coquettishly.

His excited cock tried to answer for him, but he took a deep breath and nodded. “T-That’s me.”

With an overly sweet grin, you beckoned him into the room. “It’s time for your appointment. Follow me.”

Previously arranged pillows on the bed mimicked the half-upright position of a medical chair. Law couldn’t look away from you as he shuffled towards his ‘exam table’, sitting down so his legs hung off the edge. You placed a gentle hand under his scruffy chin, his gaze flickering between your face and your tits.

“Now, what seems to be the problem?”

Law didn’t have the confidence (nor the acting ability) to answer ‘my dick’ the way a pornstar would. So he settled for, “I’m not sure, miss. Maybe… give me a physical?”

“Ooh, a full body inspection,” you giggled, putting on a pair of hospital-grade latex gloves. “Please remove your shirt and lie on your back.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Only my shirt?”

Biting back a laugh, you responded, “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?”

Your boyfriend nodded obediently, neatly folding his canary yellow t-shirt beside him on the bed. It didn’t matter how often you saw his heavily tattooed chest – you were in awe of it every time. You opened your notebook, humming in mock contemplation and scribbling nonsense on a blank page in an imitation of Law’s terrible doctor handwriting. He tried to peek at what you were doing, but you quickly shut the cover.

“Just relax, I’ll take care of you,” you cooed with a gentle smile and ruffled his hair.

He apologized curtly and settled back into a comfortable reclined position. Running your fingers along his jawline, you trailed your touch down the column of his throat and across his collarbones. Gently massaging his shoulders and feeling the tense muscles loosen as he let out a content sigh. You were unable to resist tracing the massive inked heart on his torso as you’d done so many times, lightly trailing your pointer finger across its flames and swirls and sending pleasant tingles throughout his body.

Repeating the action on his matching bicep tattoos, you cheekily stated, “Such strong muscles. Your girlfriend is a lucky woman.”

He chuckled, finally beginning to relax into his role. “You have no idea.”

“Let me check your heartbeat.” Not even bothering to put the stethoscope in your ears, you ran the cold chestpiece against Law’s nipples, forcing a pretty hiss from his lips. Rubbing circles atop them until both were stiff peaks, then teasingly rolling them between your fingertips until he was flushed and panting.

Satisfied with his worked-up state, you pulled away to write more nonsense in the notebook. Your boyfriend furrowed his eyebrows. “Seriously, what the hell are you writing?”

“Please let me do my job, Mr. Trafalgar.” You firmly smacked the end of your pen against one of his nipples. The sudden display of authority made his cock twitch.

You caressed his defined abdomen muscles, moving lower down his gorgeous body and brushed over his dark happy trail.

“Your chest seems fine, which means…” You trailed off and tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants. Law’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed in anticipation, lifting his hips to help you slide down his sweats and boxers underneath.

His rock-hard dick sprung free gratefully, angry red and twitching in excitement. You’d never seen him get this worked up so quickly – it made your cunt ache.

“Well, this is clearly the issue! Poor thing, you must feel so lightheaded from all the blood flowing down here.” You cooed, wiping his dark bangs away from his eyes in mock comfort. “I have to relieve this pressure or else the swelling won’t go down.”

“H-How will you–“ Law’s cheeky question was cut off by a groan when you curled your fingers around the thick base of his cock. Just one stroke pushed out several beads of pearly precum from his pretty tip. The synthetic softness of latex gloves felt strange against such a sensitive part of him, but it made the scenario extra immersive.

“I need to milk you dry. Is that okay with you, Mr. Trafalgar?”

Law nodded eagerly, too overstimulated to consent with words. He’d heard that phrase so many times in his videos. Your chest swelled with pride as you admired his submissive state. It wasn’t easy for your boyfriend to relinquish control to you during sex – no matter how much he wanted to – but he looked like he would die for you at that moment.

You swung your leg over his body to straddle his upper thighs, cunt inches away from where he needed it. The movement caused your skirt to ride up and reveal a peek of your lacy panties. Law gulped when he noticed your soft thighs bulging around the elastic band of your stockings.

Using both hands, you began to jerk him off with slow and deliberate movements. Dragging your palms from the base to the head with the perfect amount of pressure, making sure to trace the sensitive vein on the underside. A steady stream of translucent fluid dribbled out, the length pulsing and begging for more in your grasp. You paused to spit on his tip for added lubrication and rubbed it into his heated skin.

Law was glad you were fixated on his cock rather than his face. He knew he looked pathetic. Barely three minutes had passed and he was embarrassingly close to cumming (though he was proud of himself for not bursting in his pants the moment you emerged in your costume). His abdomen muscles were wound tight and his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. Steely gray eyes never left your body, your hands, almost too afraid to blink.

When you fondled his heavy balls, his orgasm hit him like a truck. Law threw his head against the pillow and cried out, painting white streaks across your baby blue gloves. You grinned watching your boyfriend heaving for air, finally meeting his gaze when you swiped your tongue across a thick glob of cum on your thumb. He watched dazedly as you wiped the rest of his spend off on your skirt, then tossed your dirty gloves on the floor.

“Perfect! The swelling went down,” you grinned slyly and added, “but it might come back.”

“Oh, it’s definitely coming back.”

Law grabbed your waist and quickly flipped your positions, pinning you underneath him by sitting on your hips. Holding your wrists above your head in one hand and using the other to cup your jaw, he pressed his lips against yours in a wet and messy kiss. You whined as he shoved his tongue down your throat, eagerly devouring your mouth.

“M-Mr. Trafalgar, this is very unprofessional…” Weakly faking a struggle against his grasp, whining when it only got tighter.

“I gotta self-medicate now, miss, or I’ll never get better.” Your boyfriend kissed his way down your sternum, tugging down the zipper of your costume just enough to reveal your chest. He groaned at the sight of your vivid red bra. “Fuck, what a uniform.”

While mouthing at the swell of your breasts, your boyfriend stroked himself to full hardness – which didn’t take long. Desire was overtaking his mind and turning his vision hazy. He might actually have a medical issue if he didn’t fuck you immediately.

Law slipped his hand between your legs and snickered at the wetness soaked through your panties. Pushing the fabric to the side, he unceremoniously thrust his E and A fingers in your cunt. Those skilled digits pushed and prodded inside you, a grin spreading across his face when he heard the sinful squelch of your drenched walls.

“Naughty nurse,” he chuckled teasingly, gray eyes burning holes into your own when he sucked his sticky fingers into his mouth, moaning at your taste.

“I’m not naughty,” you pouted. “My job is to make patients feel better, and this is helping, right?”

“Shit, yeah, you just might cure me.”

Law tapped your inner thighs and you spread them willingly, unsurprised when he chose to shove your panties to the side and keep the costume intact. He pressed his swollen mushroom tip against your leaking entrance. With freed wrists, you gripped the bedsheets, heart racing and pussy throbbing.

Rather than fulfilling both of your desires, your boyfriend paused in thought. “Hold on, what did you diagnose me with?”

You shrugged and defaulted to something you heard in a porno. “Big dick disorder?”

Law fought against every well-educated neuron in his brain begging to correct you. He took a deep breath and let out an exaggerated exhale, but smirked proudly. “I’ll accept it.”

His cock slammed into you and knocked all the air from your lungs. Bottoming out with a groan, he paused to lean back and admire your outfit, feeling his cock get impossibly harder inside your cunt. Fucking a fantasy nurse was a deep-rooted desire of his, and he was amazed and incredibly grateful that he was able to act it out with you.

“Is this the right way to treat my illness?” Smugly punctuating his words with a sharp thrust, the head of his cock kissing the tip of your womb. You’d never seen him so talkative in bed.

“M-move faster… it’ll be more effective.”

“Okay. I trust you, miss nurse.” Law whispered seductively in your ear. His beard tickled your skin when he nipped at a soft spot of your neck.

Setting a brutal pace, he pistoned his cock in and out, balls slapping against your skin with every thrust. Messy wet sounds filled the room – your cunt gushing and your tongues desperately sliding against each other. Law typically limited his vocal expressions of pleasure to grunts and soft groans, but something in him had clearly snapped. He had no issue throwing his head back and moaning unashamedly, interweaving spat curse words and praises of your body.

He sucked on your tongue while switching his hip movements to a slow grind, his dick fully sheathed and rubbing against every delicate inch of your cunt.

“T-Traf… oh, fuck, Law.” Your eyes rolled back into your head as you tangled your fingers in his messy black hair and held onto it for dear life. He swallowed the string of saliva connecting your lips with a playful grin.

Shifting your position into a mating press, you locked your stocking-clad knees around his shoulders. His rough pace resumed, cock reaching impossibly deeper inside you, bullying your cervix with every thrust. Your body rocked back and forth on the shaking mattress. Every movement caused your hat to press against the pillow and reminded you of your costume – no, your role.

“Good girl,” Law panted, pupils blown wide with pleasure. “Taking care of me so well with your pretty pussy.”

You whined needily, feeling your core tighten. “I’m s-so close, baby,”

A sharp slap came down on your tit. Law’s eyes narrowed. “Be professional.”

Despite his strict command, he rewarded you by pressing and flicking his thumb against your neglected clit. You bucked your hips into his touch desperately, grinding the sensitive nub on his calloused finger.

You threw your head backwards, arched off the bed and came with a cry of, “Mr. Trafalgar!” Arms wrapped around his back, legs pulling him in even tighter as your pleasure hit you like a tidal wave, flooding over you in a bright white light.

“Naughty fucking nurse.” Your boyfriend growled with a pleased smirk. Hot cum coated your walls as Law let out a deep moan, your cunt eagerly milking every last drop. Your boyfriend kissed you deeply until the aftershocks of both of your orgasms had subsided.

He collapsed on top of you, both of your chests heaving against each other as you struggled to catch your breath. Releasing your tight grip on his shoulders, you lovingly rubbed the giant skull tattoo on his upper back.

“Thank you, miss. I’m cured.” Law mumbled happily, kissing your cheek.

You frowned. “You are? After one round?”

“Oh.” That certainly wouldn’t be a satisfying ending to his appointment. “Um… No, I’m still very, very sick.” He followed it up with a fake cough. Not exactly a symptom of having a big dick, but whatever.

Deciding to give your overwhelmed boyfriend a break, you took control of the situation again.

“I’m not sure how much medical knowledge you have, Mr. Trafalgar, but I have an ache in my chest.” You reached between your bodies to innocently spread your unzipped dress even more, pushing out your tits. “Mind checking it out for me?”

Law pushed up the cups of your bra without a second thought, groping your soft flesh with large palms. “I’ll see what I can do.”

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astonmartinii · 9 months ago

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it's got to be time travel | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem footballer!reader

face claim: jessie fleming (i'm a chelsea fan and i'm sad she left :()

they've got all the time in the world for each other, don't ask them where they got that time from though

note: we're also gonna pretend that the women's football and f1 seasons line up here lol

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | MY SMALL BUSINESS

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 1,203,784 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: last sunday lunch before we both have to go back to work :(

view all comments

user1: ffs why do their ACTUAL jobs have to get in the way of my regularly scheduled charles x y/n content???

user2: i personally think that the fia should just give charles the championship and y/n the WSL title so they can just chill together :)

maxverstappen1: not on my watch

charles_leclerc: you don't even follow me? get out of my comments

maxverstappen1: you can't just get given the championship because you have attachment issues WE ALL HAVE ATTACHMENT ISSUES

charles_leclerc: me i get, but y/n doesn't deserve to win?

maxverstappen1: i never said that. y/n is girlboss slay queen

yourusername: too right i am

charles_leclerc: why are you peace and love with her and not me?

maxverstappen1: she's cool, you aren't

yourusername: can't disagree with that babe soz

user3: i have a feeling that these spats might get worse the longer charles is separated from y/n

user4: waa waa we're all sad their being separated but all i'm thinking is UP THE CHELS

user5: i need the treble right fucking now, a charles championship would be a bonus i guess

lewishamilton: will i get a formal introduction to y/n before we're teammates?

yourusername: YES, YES YOU WILL

charles_leclerc: i guess that answers that

lewishamilton: don't hate the player, hate the game

yourusername: i better see your ass at kingsmeadow at some point, it's fun, even if others think they're too good for it

lewishamilton: i'll be there 🫡

user7: can 2025 come quick.... PLEASE

user8: lol does this mean that charles has offered to take carlos to a game but he didn't go?

user9: ugh what a bore

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,402,667 others

tagged: chelseafcw

yourusername: excited for the new season back with the girlypops :))))))

view all comments

user10: treble or nothing I BEG

user11: it's their year for the champions league i've seen the script

alexalbon: no seatbelt ? way to set dangerous examples to your young audience

yourusername: if you're not careful i'm gonna teach my audience how to put their foot up the ass of those annoying her

alexalbon: ugh i hope you lose :P

yourusername: i don't have to hope, i know your ass ain't gonna be in q3

alexalbon: that's TOO far @charles_leclerc does our years of friendship mean nothing?

charles_leclerc: sorry buddy, i am y/n stan first, human being second

yourusername: as he should.

user12: so like... will we see charles in a y/n jersey again in the paddock?

user13: @ferrari stop being so annoying and let him wear what he wants

user14: i think i tasted paradise when they actually let him wear a y/n canada jersey in montreal

charles_leclerc: never seen someone make blue look so good

maxverstappen1: i'm right here?

sebastianvettel: did the homoeroticism of our challenge videos mean nothing?

danielricciardo: do not lie to yourself

yourusername: sorry sluts, you wish you looked this good

charles_leclerc: they'll never be you 🫶🏻

user15: i know the cfcw admin and pr department have a heart attack every time y/n posts

user16: the way she's out here calling three f1 drivers sluts with no repercussions

yourusername: can't be told off for telling the TRUTH

liked by lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,205,489 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername

f1: couple goals! charles leclerc takes pole in bahrain while his girlfriend, y/n y/ln, scored the winner for chelsea women!

view all comments

user19: okay but i've never been in a relationship and am currently rotting on my couch... so who is the real winner here x

yourusername: my handsome boy is so talented :3

charles_leclerc: not as talented as you, pretty girl

yourusername: nuh uh at least my team is competent

charles_leclerc: errrrr

samkerr20: i think you broke him lol

yourusername: sometimes i think he's more loyal to ferrari than me

charles_leclerc: no!

scuderiaferrari: huh?

charles_leclerc: wait...

yourusername: i see :(

charles_leclerc: i'm LOGGING OUT

user20: charles is so lover boy stuck in his tortured poets department (ferrari formula one team)

user21: the way he's probably yelling down the phone to y/n about how much he loves her right now

samkerr20: he is and it's so loud the whole locker room can hear it

yourusername: but he's so sweet isn't he

niamhcharles17: i guess?

alexalbon: we heard it from his side... barf

yourusername: @lilymunhe are you being starved of romance?

lilymunhe: compared to you and charles YES

alexalbon: ummmm get out of my business y/ln

yourusername: you're ALWAYS in my business buster 🤨

alexalbon: NO! i am just passing down the ancient skill of communication?

yourusername: you're such a gossip girl alex

user21: i know they bicker like siblings, but i know deep down that there have been double dates

charles_leclerc: yes, but y/n and i are much better (no offence lily)

yourusername: did you log back in to restart the argument with alex

charles_leclerc: yes!

alexalbon: boo you whore

yourusername: don't talk to him like that 🤨

samkerr20

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 303,445 others

tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

samkerr20: forced to hang out with the straights... they're actually kind of cute

view all comments

user22: you know the couple has to be real cute when even the gays think they're cute

user23: no one can resist the charms of y/n and charles

yourusername: these photos make me think that we are cuter

samkerr20: we are but i didn't want to hurt charles' feelings

charles_leclerc: consider them hurt

samkerr20: boo hoo

yourusername: noooooo i love you xxx

charles_leclerc: hehehehehehehe i love you too xxx

yourusername: i miss you, hurry up and win and come home to me

charles_leclerc: i'm doing my best :(

yourusername: you are the bestest boy

samkerr20: STOP THAT MAKES HIM SOUND LIKE A DOG

oscarpiastri: when will australians stop being victims of this relationship

danielricciardo: this is your first season dealing with them properly, buckle up

oscarpiastri: i'm in a relationship but they make me feel so lonely

maxverstappen1: you get used to it after a while

yourusername: we're right here

landonorris: let us commiserate in peace

charles_leclerc: ??? do you or do you not get free football tickets out of it?

landonorris: yeha but when we go we just have to watch you cry when y/n inevitably wins another trophy

charles_leclerc: I'M PROUD OF HER AND YOU WON'T SHAME ME FOR THAT

user24: chelsea women players must be so confused when these grown men start arguments in the comments of THEIR posts

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, charles_leclerc and 1,529,556 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: weekend off... you know what that means

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user25: i know there's over 1.5 million likes but how can i gatekeep y/n?

user26: for real

charles_leclerc: the best weekends are with you here

yourusername: i may have a love/hate relationship with this team, but the catering is banging (i may have to move to italy)

chelseafcw: NO MENTIONS OF LEAVING CHELSEA, NOT EVEN A JOKE - NOTHING!

yourusername: okay, sorry guys (the pasta was so good though)

charles_leclerc: not even for me?

chelseafcw: DEFINITELY NOT FOR YOU, WATCH OUT OR WE'LL BLACKLIST YOU FROM KINGSMEADOW

yourusername: okay, let's pedal this back. i'm not leaving london and we all still love charles, right admin?

chelseafcw: .... yes

user27: when you're in a who has attachment issues with y/n y/ln and your competition is the chelseafcw admin and charles leclerc

user28: no point even showing up

maxverstappen1: i for one am glad when y/n is in the paddock because it means i can sneak in without the cameras seeing me

yourusername: i am a woman of the people

charles_leclerc: she's such a star, everyone wants to see her

maxverstappen1: yeah i'll give you that

yourusername: we're also hot

charles_leclerc: don't you dare respond to that one max

maxverstappen1: 🫡🫡🫡

user29: patiently waiting for the hq photos of them 😚

user30: gonna print them out and put them in my heart locket

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,398,452 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: babe is top of the league (and top scorer)

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user33: get yourself a guy who flexes your achievements as much as charles does

user34: setting the example tbf

yourusername: my lucky charm, that hat-trick was for you xx

charles_leclerc: would mean more if you didn't score them every week 😭

yourusername: they hate to see a girlboss winning

charles_leclerc: wanna share some wins with me?

yourusername: you're doing great this season babe, not your fault that nasa decided to rebrand to red bull racing

redbullracing: adrian says thanks 😊

charles_leclerc: DON'T SAY IT Y/N

yourusername: you don't even know what i was going to say

charles_leclerc: ....

yourusername: @redbullracing you got a seat???

charles_leclerc: Y/N!!!!!!!!!!

yourusername: whoops

user35: y/n really out here trying to get charles that damn seat

yourusername: i'll stop when the horse team makes a championship worthy car that they don't break halfway through the season...

user36: add ferrari to the group of people who shudder in fear when y/n posts

chelseafcw: fine... we hope you enjoyed (no more italy jokes)

charles_leclerc: i had a great time, i always do when i watch y/n do what she loves (slay)

yourusername: awwwwwwwwww i love you charlie

chelseafcw: okay no need to make admin feel that lonely, damn

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, alexalbon and 1,782,309 others

yourusername: finishing my best ever season with a big trophy haul :) now time to support my trophy husband in his day job

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user41: she really be out here doing it all

user42: i need her to win the Ballon d'Or Féminin PLEASE IT IS TIME

user43: with charles in attendance, first couples red carpet appearance YES, YES RUN IT TO ME PLEASE

charles_leclerc: unbelievably proud of you, mon amour, constantly inspired by you

yourusername: i love you so much, thank you for being there to support me through it all

charles_leclerc: it's the biggest pleasure in the world

yourusername: i'm all out of winning this season, your turn next weekend?

charles_leclerc: for you, i'll do anything

user44: PLEASE I NEED HIM TO WIN GOOD PLEASE

alexalbon: congrats i guess, you're pretty good

yourusername: thanks, since my boyf is so supportive, it's only natural that you have to try and humble me at every turn

alexalbon: you're more famous than us now, we need to keep you grounded

lilymunhe: don't worry y/n he cried nearly just as much as charles when you won the WSL

yourusername: I KNEW IT

charles_leclerc: i still cried more

alexalbon: it's not a competition bro, we all know you're both helplessly in love

yourusername: that we are

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,309,855 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: happiest when i'm with you (and whoever has decided to tag along), oh and winning a race helps as well i guess

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user45: CHARLES WIN I REPEAT A CHARLES WIN WE WON?

user46: the way y/n went just as mental as us, her and zecira jumping around the garage (and starting the champagne shower after the podium)

user47: really proving that y/n and charles really are each other's biggest fans

user48: thank the lord the WSL season finished when it did so y/n could be there for this win

user49: y/n would've ran to austria to be there i'm sure

yourusername: you know it 🫡

maxverstappen1: had to let you win so you could look cool in front of your infinitely cooler girlfriend

charles_leclerc: not even gonna bite, i'm too happy to care

yourusername: i'll bite - HIS TALENTED BEHIND SCHOOLED YOUR ASS

maxverstappen1: but i called you cool?

yourusername: i'll accept the compliment now, i had to defend charles' honour first

charles_leclerc: heheheehe i'm blushing

maxverstappen1: gross

user50: i need y/n to permanently be in the ferrari garage, they were on it today (i think out of fear)

landonorris: damn i thought i thirdwheeling lestappen was bad, but y/n and charles is a different beast

yourusername: we're both athletes, need to savour the time we have together when we can

charles_leclerc: sorry not sorry you'll get it when you're in love

landonorris: .... i guess i'll die then

fin.

note: i hope you enjoyed !!!! one last WIP to go and good lord the writers block is kicking my ass. but f1 being back should help!!! + f1 academy, much enjoyed it so far.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc social media au

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all-hail-trash-prince · 2 years ago

Text

Op you're so right but in particular I'd like to point out the angst potential. Everyone talks about how Danny is so traumatized by seeing a possible alternate future self do some, admittedly, pretty terrible things. But no one wants to talk about the fact that this boy had his free will completely taken away from him. Now, it's been a while since I've seen the show, so I can't quite remember if Danny really remembered anything that happened while he was under Freaks how's spell. But just imagine if he was entirely conscious to watch his own two hands be used to hurt people, including his own friends! Trapped inside his mind, screaming for help, but with no one to hear. Indefinitely. No clue when, or even if, he'd ever get out. Or if he'd just be passed along to the next generation like an accessory to the staff. Like an object.

I rewatched DP's season 1 finale and realized that Freakshow is high key my favorite DP villain after Vlad. He's got a cool design and is honestly extremely underrated and GOSH someone needs to properly utilize the fact that his family has apparently had a ghost-controlling magic staff in their possession for generations. Like that's such an awesome idea but sadly yet another concept to add to the list of "cool stuff that DP introduced and then did absolutely nothing with" (which I'm aware is literally the entire show but this is a Freakshow appreciation post so,,,,)

#Danny phantom #freakshow #like COME ON #you can hit on EVERY SINGLE ONE of his popular fanon insecurities here depending on how you spin it #his fear of hurting the people he cares about? hes forced to attack them #his fear of being seen as a monster? what else do you call a mindless ghost attacking people?#his fear of losing his humanity? obviously freakshow wouldn't give him enough freedom to change back #or if he DID know about danny being a half ghost he'd only let him turn back for like. special cases #and by special cases i mean infiltrating places ghosts cant go for some reason. still to do crimes obviously #bonus points if you write him having an obsession with protecting amity park and its painful for him to be away from it for very long #and if you really want to cover the full range of danny's fanon trauma you could have freakshow punish any pushback with electric shocks #the possibilities are really just endless :)))

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mythicmanuscripts · 4 months ago

Note

So I’m imagining Aemond’s wife has to leave him for a few days or even weeks. (perhaps to return to her family’s home somewhere else in Westeros for some reason) Perhaps she flies on dragonback or rides by horse/carriage. Either way she’s gone for some time and the longer she’s away the more on edge Aemond gets. Like he behaves his regular cold and withdrawn self but otherwise normally for a few days. But then slowly his already hard edges seem to grow sharper and sharper as the days without his wife creep by. His attacks in the training yard seem more brutal and vicious than normal. He stalks down the halls in an almost predatory walk as nobles scramble to stay out of his way and not meet his eye. He snaps at his servants more and more. And then suddenly the weeks are over and his wife is home and those hard edges are sanded down once again. He practically melts into her arms the moment they’re behind closed doors. Face buried in her neck or chest. The next day his training is much more subdued. He does not snap at people or move so hostilely about the Keep. Most people put two and two together. Now every time Aemond’s wife leaves him for more than a few days the whole of Kings Landing holds its breath until she returns.

(Bonus points: a few days before her return, Helaena states completely out of the blue to Aemond that she’ll be home before the week is out and he need not worry about her. Aemond starts. How could she know that? Was his wife writing to her and sending her a raven with that information but not him?? He knows they’re close friends but he’s her husband!? So he asks Helaena if she’s had a raven. Helaena just stops her needlework and looks at him confused: “No.” And then resumes her needlework without explanation. He decides to think nothing of it. Until two days later his wife is walking back up the steps of the Red Keep and his heart is doing somersaults in his chest he’s just so thrilled to see her.)

**nsfw thots**

On an unrelated note to all that: imagine them the night before she leaves. Riding him gently, holding him close, pulling orgasm after orgasm from him til he’s over sensitive and completely spent. Making sure to give him as much attention as possible before she leaves. As he lays there in a daze she gently showers him with kisses. Kissing up and down his neck and jaw she whispers in his ear “Aemond, my darling? I want you to think of this night while I’m gone. I want you to think about the night we shall have when I return. I want you to touch yourself and think of me. But you’re not allowed to cum. Not without me.” Another gentle kiss to his temple over his sapphire eye. “Can you be a good boy and do that for me, my love?” He shifts slightly and moans a quiet yes in response. Of course he can do that. He’s a good boy. With more willpower and obedience than anyone. And he will be rewarded handsomely for it when she returns.

I.... Anon you are truly a visionary. I am in shock and awe these thoughts are INCREDIBLE. I love everything about this oh my god.

So instead of splitting up my answer like you did here, I'm gonna answer this as one long ask about before you leave for a few days, how he is while you're gone and then what happens when you return so the entire thing will be NSFW sub!aemond with varying degrees of explicit content. So yeah! Venture under the cut if you dare :))

When you first married Aemond, not much changed because he hardly knew you. But, very very quickly he started to get attached. He realises that you care for him, that you enjoy talking to him and that you mean it when you praise him. For a long time your relationship is almost... professional? Once a week he'll attempt for an heir with you laying flat on your back and then leave immediately and besides that, you'd only see him at dinners and events.

When you started to show Aemond affection and began to ask him questions and love him, he really just melts into you? He becomes so needy so quickly, like a switch is flipped and once he's allowed a little of his self restraint to falter, he's incapable of controlling himself around you anymore.

People are shocked at the change in Aemond. He's much mellower, much less likely to lash out and he hears people out much more. They also learn that they can go to you with any issues, and you will relay them to Aemond. This process always works much better because he's always much better when speaking to you.

(Side note: you know how kings used to have a servant whose only job was to read their letters aloud for them? When Aemond becomes king he immediately gets rid of that servant and has you read the letter aloud instead. It's much, much better to hear your voice and be able to discuss the content of the letters with you)

Maybe this is the first time you've gone away without Aemond? By this point he is attached to your side, and the entire castle is thankful for it. You both spend every night in your shared quarters, and he allows himself to be open in how much he loves you and how much he needs from you.

So when you tell him you need to leave for a few days, at first he doesn't even consider the possibility that you mean without him? His response to hearing this is to nod and say, "Where are we going? And for how long?" Maybe his lips even twitch upwards a little in a very small smile because he thinks the two of you will be travelling alone together. Even if you're going somewhere terribly political and boring, the journey itself is enough to get him in a good mood. Just you, him and Vhagar would be perfect (and your own dragon if you had one, but Vhagar loves you and is more than happy to carry both you and Aemond, in fact sometimes she won't fly with just Aemond because she can tell he's angry and might do something rash, so she'll refuse to take off until you join them so that you can stop Aemond from doing something stupid).

(Side note: Aemond buys a small house somewhere far away and only reachable by dragon and that becomes your little sanctuary, whenever he’s about to lose it he goes up there with you and Vhagar and Vhagar actually won’t fly him back to the keep until he’s doing better)

When you clarify that you need to go yourself, his smile falls? He understands why he can’t go with, but that doesn’t matter. He just… you’re going to be gone for over a week?? What’s he supposed to do??

I think he’d be insistent on you taking Vhagar if you don’t have your own dragon. Not only because she’s quicker than any horse but also because he knows she’d melt down entire kingdoms if someone dared to lay a hand on you and knowing you have that kind of protection is the only way they’ll be any chance of him getting any sleep while you’re away.

You don’t even bother trying to argue against this, because you know he’ll just follow you on Vhagar if you don’t take her yourself.

The night before you’re set to leave, you tell him to get dinner delivered to your chambers and to tell everyone that the two of you are not be disturbed. He knows what this means, he’s so thankful.

You ride him first, until he’s so desperate to cum that he can’t stop bucking his hips. And then you get off him and make him eat you out before he’s allowed to fuck you again. His thighs are shaking when you eventually lower yourself down on him again and he cums almost instantly.

That’s when the overstimulation starts. Your goal is to take him apart completely until he’s a mess, until he’s twitching and whining and mumbling in high Valeryon. It honestly doesn’t even take that long to do.

When you give him the rules, he can only nod and turn to cuddle into your neck. He’s so plaint and completely wrecked, not a single wall left between you. He’s so sweet then, nodding and trying to kiss your neck because he’s just floating on cloud nine.

You slip out of bed the next morning before he wakes up, because you know that will be the easiest for him. If he has to actually watch you leave, he will almost immediately become hostile and unhappy until you return. This way there’s a chance that he might not immediately start terrorising the servants.

When Aemond wakes and you’re not there, he understands why you chose to do that and deep down he knows it’s the best choice, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t feel like a punch to the gut anyway. This is the first time in your entire marriage that he’s fallen asleep with you and woken up alone. You’ve always ensured to stay in bed until he wakes up and he does the same, so to roll over and find nothing but cold sheets actually makes him let out a sob out loud.

He pulls your pillow closer, hugging it tightly and curling himself around it. He knows he’s acting ridiculous and he does not care about it, not at all because his wife isn’t in his bed and he’s all alone.

He’s alright for the first three days, still very withdrawn but he wasn’t too bad. From the fourth day onwards he just got worse and worse. He was not used to going this long without you, without your attention and touches and voice. He’s so used to popping into places he knows you’ll be just to see you, bringing you food or wine or even just to ask your advice for something. Sometimes he’ll even come find you to invite you do dinner despite the fact that you eat dinner together every day.

So yeah he’s not doing very well. I also think he becomes even worse about touches? A servant accidentally brushes against him as they walk past carrying laundry and he flings himself against the opposite wall feeling like his skin is on fire where they touched.

Sparring with him is dangerous while you’re away, and if he loses he will just drop his sword and walk away. He would normally go to you and you’d kiss him gently and listen to him and give him advice. But now he just walks right out.

He also doesn’t make any big decisions? Irrelevant of whether he’s king, prince or prince regent, he always goes to you for advice and to hear your thoughts. You’re an extremely important part of his council and he won’t pledge to anything without discussing it first.

So the whole castle walks on eggshells for the next week or so until you eventually come back.

The moment one of the dragon keepers spots Vhagar, they immediately run to the keep and tell Aemond because they know how badly everyone needs you to be back with Aemond. The dragon keeper doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before Aemond is out the door and running for the dragon pits.

He’s there when you get off Vhagar.

The dragon keepers and servants know better than to try and get close to you before him. Normally, you hand the dragon riders your gear and the servants help take off the gloves and boots but no one moves this time because they all know that Aemond will kill them if they get in the way.

The moment you get odd Vhagar, Aemond is walking forward and before you can even say a thing he’s pulling you into a bone crushing hug. He clings to you as tight as he can, nuzzling his nose against your clavicle. You try pull away a little to give him a kiss and he refuses, his grip on you only tightens.

When he eventually pulls away, you take his hand in your hands and give him a soft kiss. He responds immediately and then hugs you tight again.

“You’re ever going for that long again,” he mumbles against your shoulder, “ever.”

You just rub his back and let him hold you for a moment because you know that there’s no point in trying to tell him you had to go. He’s too upset right now, and he just needs to be reassured to that you’re back.

Maybe you’re supposed to speak to the small council about something or give them a debrief of your trip but you end up only doing that the next day because Aemond refuses to share you with anyone. If anyone else tries to take your attention he may genuinely commit murder because it’s been far too long and he’s your husband, not them. He’s the one who gets your undivided attention.

He walks with you back to your shared quarters. On the way there, run into some of the ladies currently being hosted at the court and of course they all want to greet you and ask about your trip. Aemond is having absolutely none of it. He literally just says, "not now" and drags you away from them.

Normally if Aemond did something like that you would refuse to go with him and punish him later, but you know that this is different because of how long he's had to go without you and so you'll make some exceptions. Of course Aemond knows this, that's why he even did it in the first place. If he thought there was even the smallest chance of you being unhappy with him, he never would have done it.

Once you're alone in your chambers, he pulls you back into a hug, and pretty quickly you can feel his shoulders shaking.

"It's alright," you whisper to him, keeping your voice soft and gentle, "I'm back, it's just us here, it's alright." He nods, but he keeps himself firmly against your shoulder, crying softly.

When he stops crying, you tell him to boil some water and get a bath ready. Ordinarily you would call a servant in to do that, but you can see how unsettled Aemond is, how overwhelmed he is. He's clearly happy you're back, but he's also kind of unsure what to do with himself and clearly is just feeling a little too many things. So you give him a task to do, because that always settles him and he relaxes knowing that he's pleasing you.

You watch as he readies the water and then pours it into the bath with some cold water to make the perfect temperature.

Since you flew back on dragon back, you're in need of a bath before bed and so you tell Aemond to join you and let him wash you. It's one of Aemond's favourite tasks, one that he can't believe he is privileged enough to get to do.

He takes his time washing you, being so so gentle and ensuring he does is properly. Multiple times he pauses and looks to you, waiting for your approval before he continues. You can see him start to relax as he does it, can see the tension start to leave his shoulders.

You'd love to wash him in return, but you know it's not the best idea right then. Aemond is relaxed and at ease because he's served you and he knows he's being good. You know that if you turn the attention back on him and wash him, you run the risk of him getting overwhelmed and shy. So instead you just tell him to wash himself once he's done with you and you make sure to watch him as he does so. He absolutely loves having your eyes on him.

You let him dry you afterwards as well, and when you see his eyes trailing your body, you tell him that he can kiss you too. Immediately he does, kissing your skin after he swipes the towel over it.

He's turned by this point, of course, but he doesn't even think about touching himself. He knows the rules, and he knows you will look after him.

Originally you were going to ride him and edge him a few times, but when you see how vulnerable he is, you change your mind. He's missed you so much, and you can see how he's keeping his hands on you for as long as possible each time he kisses you, like he's afraid you're going to disappear. You don't need to wreck him, he's already wrecked.

Instead, you let him sit between your legs, his back to your front and give him a nice, soft handjob. He's shaking and whining in your arms, nuzzling against your neck and mumbling in high valeryon. He's so beautiful when he cums, crying out as his back arches away from you. He collapses once it's over, curling up between your legs and bringing your hand to his mouth to lick it clean.

You let him shuffle down the bed then and eat you out to his heart's content. He's so so happy, groaning against you because he's having as much fun as you are.

Even once you've came, he stays there and just rests his head against your thigh. He falls asleep like that soon after.

#sub!aemond #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd #house of the dragon imagine

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azsazz · 2 months ago

Text

Shots & Spins

Hockey!Azriel x Ice Skater!Reader

Summary: Req from @kristijenner19: I saw you were thinking about hockey!AZ because same. How about a fic where she's a figure skater and they're trying to teach each other their respective sports. Imagine poor Az trying to do a spin/jump/twizzle and a reader who can barely ever make a shot into a goal

Bonus points if they switch their skates and have to re-learn how to skate with the new blade

Warnings: Mild panic attack, mentions of readers injury (torn ACL), trauma from coaches (verbal) mentioned.

Word Count: 3088

Other Fics in the Hockey!Az AU: Penance, Shut Out, Out of Order, All's Well That Ends Well, Brr-eakdown

HOCKEY SZN SOON MY LOVES 💙💙

Notes: I swear I meant to make this cuter but of course, I had to give it some angst 😅

_________________________________________

“What is this?” You question. You’re probably being rude, with your nose scrunched in disgust. With the way you’re holding the pair of skates as far away from your body as possible, you’re pretty sure you look like the biggest bitch on all of campus. But for the life of you, you can’t figure out why Azriel has handed you hockey skates.

“They’re skates,” Azriel answers. You rip your glare from the offending skates at his obvious response. Your heart stumbles in your chest at the sight of his pink lips twitching, begging to reveal that grin he spends most of his time expertly hiding.

You don’t even realize you’re leaning closer in anticipation, so eager to see that smile until the hitch of his breath snaps you back to consciousness.

You rock back on your heels so quickly you nearly tumble over. Would tumble over if it weren’t for Azriel’s quick reflexes, his large hands enveloping your waist and steadying you back on your feet.

“Thanks,” you reply flatly, dipping your chin to the ground to hide your flaming cheeks. There’s not an ounce of amusement in your body.

“You’re welcome.” You don’t like the smugness in his tone or the way he’s playing with you. Tilting your face back up, you muster all the annoyance lancing through your veins at his retort, shooting him the nastiest glare.

“That’s not what I meant, Az, and you know it. Why am I holding a pair of hockey skates?”

Azriel sits on the bench beside the empty arena, and you want to pout. Why would you want to spend any more time at the rink than you already do? You’re bone-fucking-tired and your knee is feeling stiff. You overdid it in practice this week, trying to get back into the shape you were in before the time you’d been forced to take off, and it’s hitting you hard. All you really want to do is crawl home, roll out your muscles, and dive into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

When you don’t join Azriel, he says, with a humor you don’t feel, “Don’t tell me you forgot about our little bet. Or how you so gracefully lost it.”

Of course you hadn’t forgotten. Who could forget losing at something as simple as a race across the arena? Afterwards, you tried to blame it on the differences in the ice, how it was colder and harder than you were used to, as it was prepared for the hockey team’s game later that weekend.

A rookie mistake, honestly. One that you’ve been kicking yourself over up until this very moment. Well, if you could kick with your injured leg, that is, you’d be doing just that.

You grind your teeth as a memory rises to the forefront of your mind. Your coach’s voice rings in your head, shrill and reprimanding. Why would you take such foolish chances? You need to get your head in your sport or you’re never going to make it on the Olympic team, let alone the University team.

Shame presses down on you, and your eyes prick at the criticism you should be used to by now. Your private coach from your time before Velaris University, Amarantha, had been very creative with her insults, always coming up with comments worse and harsher to cut down any semblance of confidence you had in your sport.

You bet she’s thrilled that you won’t be back in her presence until you’re healed enough. If you heal enough to relearn the very trick that took you out of the running for the Olympic team in the first place.

It must be a thing, coaches insulting their prodigies. You glance at Azriel from the corner of your eye and wonder if his coach is the same way. If Rhys is brutal with his teammates.

And you hate losing. It was Azriel who you wished forgotten about the bet you’d so stupidly agreed to, but here he is, wearing the same look that got you into this position in the first place.

You take your time studying him as you mull over how to get out of this. Azriel’s broad shoulders take up the space of two people, and his deep, dark hair falls over his brow, growing out into the perfect flow all the players seem to be sporting right now. You wonder if it’s superstition or they actually like the look. His thick lashes sweep as he bats them, and your cheeks take on a pink hue as he pretends to preen under your attention.

“Look,” he all but sighs, giving up his act. He leans back, reaching over to grab something out of sight. When Azriel rightens himself, he holds a pair of figure skates, a sheepish smile on his face. The apples of his cheeks mottle with pink. “I got myself figure skates, so we can both look like fools out there. Together.”

Fuck. The sentiment makes your throat tighten. He doesn’t have to be so damn thoughtful, you’re hardly even friends for Mother’s sake.

“Fine,” you manage when you can speak again. You plop onto the bench beside him. Your knee throbs dully in protest, but it’s nothing you haven’t been able to smother before. You’ve worked through worse conditions than hockey prepped ice, have skated in casts and aches so deep you weren’t sure you’d be able to compete at all if it weren’t for your raw love for the sport and your brutal stubbornness, holding yourself to the highest of standards.

And it’s not like you’re going to be doing your usual tricks. No, that’s all Azriel. All you have to manage is a few forward spirals, twizzles, and perhaps an axel just to show off a little, because there’s no way he’ll be able to recreate all of that in one go.

You just hope your knee stays steady for a few more hours.

The both of you lace your shoes in silence. The hockey skates are so different from your figure skates, you note. The blade is much thicker than you’re used to, more curved too. The boots are shorter, and you grimace at the lack of ankle support.

Not to mention you’re not entirely sure how well you’ll be able to stop without your toe pick.

Azriel leads you to the ice. You step on tentatively, giving the new skates a test. They have a lot more give than you’re used to. They’re not as snug, but easy enough to navigate. Muscle memory kicks in and after a few sluggish runs up and down the ice, you think you’ve gotten the hang of it.

The rest of this bet should be a breeze, especially compared to how Azriel is faring.

His face is contorted with a concentrated frown. He looks stiff as a fucking board, which make you giggle and him complain about. “How the hell do you wear these things? I can barely even move my ankles!”

“Practice makes perfect, young Padawon,” you tease, testing how best to shift your weight on the new blades. The pressure on your knee isn’t terrible, thanks to the looseness of the hockey skates.

“Yeah, yeah,” Azriel waves you off. He trails behind you at a slower rate, focused on getting used to the stiffness of the figure skates on his feet. “Just wait until we scrimmage.”

Ugh, no thanks. This is just perfect for you, the both of you out on the open ice, all alone. You don’t want to ruin this peaceful bliss by bringing your competitive personalities into it.

“I knew if we raced under different conditions I’d have won!” You exclaim, zipping past Azriel again, showing off. He glares playfully, but you’re much too busy admiring your skates to notice the way he’s tucked his lip between his teeth, hiding a satisfied grin.

His toe pick digs into the ice, grinding down as he gets a feeling for the foreign piece, but his eyes stay glued on you.

“Ready for a stick and gloves already, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know,” you throw a smirk back in his direction, crossing your arms over your chest and cocking a brow. “You ready for twizzling?”

“Twizzlers?”

You roll your eyes at his lame joke, but your heart still skips at his wry smile. It’s more than cute. You push off your blade, moving closer to him.

Which is fine, until you try to use your toe pick to stop, only for the realization to hit that there isn’t one on these skates.

You go barreling into Azriel, who catches you in his arms. Your motion throws him off balance and before you even have the chance to squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself, you’re both falling to the ice.

Azriel hits with a grunt that reverberates through your bones. You’d think that Azriel breaking your landing would be less painful than it is, but with the way the muscle is packed on his body, he’s just as hard as the ice that’s no longer beneath your feet.

“Sorry,” you cringe. It comes out breathless and embarrassment flushes your cheeks, but you’re frozen to your spot and all too aware of how his large, warm hands are wrapped firmly around your waist.

“No worries.” Your lashes flutter as his breathy whisper caresses your face. He’s probably just winded, that’s why he sounds like that. Yes, that’s exactly what it is. “Didn’t think to remind you how to stop.”

“I know how to stop,” you argue, but there’s none of your usual fire tainting the words. You can’t even muster one of your famous glares that you reserve for the normally broody hockey player. You break eye contact as the humiliation begins creeping in. You scratch your nail distractedly down the waffled fabric of his olive colored henley. “I just…forgot, I guess.”

The hitching of his breath in his chest shifts your body and you jolt, the situation slamming into you like a truck.

You scramble off Azriel, grimacing at the sound of your blades clinking against his. His grip loosens, hands falling away as you slip to the ice beside him.

You shoot to your knees, then not-so-carefully climb to your feet. Azriel holds his hands out from where he’s still lying on the ground, like he’s more than ready to catch you again should you fall.

You’re positive the heat of your cheeks could melt the entire arena’s ice right now. You need to get the fuck out of here before you embarrass yourself further. You need to never show your face around here again. You’ve already transferred schools once, what’s one more time?

Azriel calls your name, but you hardly hear him over your racing thoughts. If the sheer embarrassment wasn’t enough, Coach Weaver’s voice now fills the rest of your head, screeching about your recklessness and how you could’ve injured yourself—

He’s quicker than you thought, or you’ve been trapped in your mortified headspace for too long because Azriel’s on his feet, towering over you and pulling you into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” your voice trembles and his hands tighten around you. He lets you bury your face into his chest and pretends not to notice the tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. You’re fucking trembling, and his heart is pounding just as hard.

This is all his fault.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breathe,” he tries to console. He looks around frantically, like one of the sports therapist students or coaches might be walking past the rinks this late at night. There’s no soul in the building besides the both of you, everyone resting for their busy weekends of competitions and away hockey games. “Please.”

You focus on his words, how he guides you, three seconds in, three seconds out. You focus on the soothing patterns he’s drawing down your back, focus on the beating of his heart and latch onto his scent: night-chilled mist and cedar.

“Sorry,” you croak when you finally manage to calm yourself and slide a step back. Your gaze sits pointedly on the ice. You don’t want him to see you like this, a woman who’s about to fucking crumble.

“Don’t be,” Azriel says softly. His hand finds your face, and as much as you don’t want him to, he lifts your chin. You don’t fight it, emotionally exhausted. You should have asked for a raincheck, but you can admit to the fact that Azriel’s gentle touch is a comfort that you can’t help but lean into.

Sad, hazel eyes meet yours. They’re more golden brown than green, a forest of hues backlit by a burst of gold. Your breath hitches as he drags a thumb softly across your lips. They part, even though you don’t mean them to, and the whisper of breath that leaves you passes over his hand, crawls up his arm, and sends shivers down his spine.

“You okay there, sweetheart?”

You’re not sure you can hold yourself together enough to answer his question without completely melting into a puddle at his feet.

Your silence must be answer enough. Azriel takes both of your hands in his own and guides you back toward the bench where you left your shoes. His grip is reassuring, and you’re so tired that you don’t even have it in yourself to sling a witty remark his way.

For what might be the first time in your life, you allow yourself to be taken care of.

You can’t even muster a chuckle at the way he stumbles over the toe pick on his way off the ice, or the way you’re waddling in these skates. You feel anything but graceful and strong right now, but with Azriel’s hand in yours, it’s not as off-putting as you feared it might be.

“Sit,” he says, keeping his fingers clasped around yours as you heed his command. It brings you eye-level to his hands, puckered and pink and scarred to hell. They’re beautiful in every way. He embraces his story, and it’s an incredible strength, one you’re much too terrified of attempting to recreate.

“Azriel, no,” you protest, jolting forward when he lowers himself to his knees before you. You plant your hands on his shoulders, ready to force him away because you’re more than capable of taking your own skates off.

He catches your wrists, and you didn’t think his eyes could soften any more, but they do, and you melt. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let me take care of this for you.”

You try to swallow past the knot in your throat to thank him but are unable to. Instead, you nod and reluctantly sit back.

Azriel’s gentle with his movements, like you’re a wild doe that he’s helping free from a snare. He unties the tight knots, and your heart pinches when he struggles for a moment. You wouldn’t notice if you weren’t watching so intently, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Like he knows you need to see this.

You carefully keep your mind from wandering into how good he looks like this before you.

He slips the first skate off, and you stretch your toes. It’s a reflex. Azriel smiles, peeking up at you just in time to catch your blush. His gaze ducks away before you become embarrassed, setting your foot down and holding your other ankle, lifting to get to work.

You hiss softly at the ache in your knee.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Concern laces his voice, and you’re quick to reassure him.

“No, no,” you cringe a little at the lingering sting. “It’s nothing.”

“Sweetheart.” Azriel says sternly. Seriously. “That reaction wasn’t nothing. What’s wrong?”

You sigh, defeated in more ways than one. You don’t want to admit that the injury that threw your entire career off-kilter is acting up again. You’d rather not have anyone know.

Perhaps Azriel is different. Or, maybe he’s forcing you, because the gold in his eyes is intense, pinning you to your spot. His mouth is set in a straight, firm line. He looks like he means fucking business.

You avert your gaze. You’ve never admitted defeat like this, but if Azriel can wear his scars so proudly, maybe you can too.

“I tore my ACL a few months ago.” You admit, sniffling. You can feel the shock in Azriel’s gaze, but you refuse to look him in the eye. He’s the first person at this school outside of your coach who’s hearing it. You’ve never been so vulnerable, especially with someone you hardly know. You press on nonetheless. “It’s been fine up until now.” A white lie. “But it’s been a little sore since I started practicing my jumps again.”

“How many months is ‘a few’?” He questions, and he’s not going to like the answer, so you opt for brushing over it.

“I’ll go back to seeing my therapist,” you offer instead, but even you’re not too sure how much truth your words hold.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Azriel says, and you don’t want his sympathy, but you’re too exhausted for your usual anger to stir to life. “You need to take care of yourself, before it gets any worse.”

His sentiment has your nose stinging, eyes prickling once again. What the fuck is wrong with you these days? Get it together, girl. You can cry in your own room, not in front of the hot boy who’s helping you with your godsdamned shoes.

You drag your gaze back to his. “I will.” You think.

He studies you for a moment before nodding, accepting your answer whether he believes it or not. You don’t have it in yourself to care right now. No, you just want to be back in the safety of your dorm.

Azriel is even more careful removing this skate and helping you slip into your shoes. He makes quick work of his own, and while his head is down, you admire his stature. Broad shoulders and chest that tapers into a tight waist, an ass for days.

You’re not done drooling over him when he stands, offering you a hand.

You slip your palm into his, ignoring the electricity that zips down your arm. You’re hyperaware of him by your side, and it’s only when he’s absolutely sure that you’re steady on your feet that he drops your hand.

You try not to feel too disappointed at the loss.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart,” Azriel offers, and you trail him from the arena, your heart feeling a bit fuller with the nickname.

_________________________________________

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