#niko writes...sometimes

[niko-mesu-the-dragon-dog]

the Q!Jaiden theory of her ALWAYS being part of the Federation and infiltrated with the rest of the islanders as a secret agent but the wall explosion gave her amnesia, and that’s why she couldn’t answer Cucurucho when it asked where did she live before the island and now Cucurucho is trying to refresh her memory by making her revisit the that old Fed building that is now a dungeon to get her back into the Fed.... that theory has done irreversible damage to my brain/pos

[brokentrafficknight]

Blake's Beta Readers Pt 5

Blake: It is not! I resent that. Slander is spoken. In print, it's libel.

[katygorl]

💜🌸 Niko Sasaki Outfits: Purple 🌸💜

================================================

Hello DBDA fandom once again! :D I've been wanting to contribute more to this fandom in some way, so here's part 2 of an idea I've had for a few months now. Like a lot of people, I loved all of Niko's outfits throughout the season, so I wanted to create some of my own! I was inspired by looking through her monochrome outfits in the show and how she didn't have a yellow or purple-themed one, so those are what I chose to design for. I took a lot of inspiration from her canon outfits, then official notes on her outfits for the season, and some fan-art mixed with my own ideas!

For this purple-themed outfit, I waned to keep it close to some of her other canon outfits(with the pants and jacket mainly), but also have it be heavily inspired by Crystal. Mainly to showcase their bond, perhaps they are working on a case dealing with mystical or haunted objects during autumn, but you may also take this as a Palasaki moment if you ship it! Like in my yellow-themed outfit, I had loved this fanart by @leahaart so much that short-hair Niko became my favorite, so I gave her short-hair here too. Since this outfit is already pretty inspired by Crystal, I wanted to add in more flower motifs, since they are a main motif in some of Crystal's canon outfits. The only extra notes for this outfit is that I would probably make her top longer with added sleeves(patterned or solid black, maybe mesh), and maybe adding in some subtle flower embroidery to her jacket and pants.

I hope you enjoy!

((Her yellow-themed outfit))

[bitchdafuqyousay]

Bad Bread

Nikolaj stared at the vague imitation of a loaf of sourdough on his kitchen counter; his lips pressed into a thin line in a desperate attempt to keep himself from laughing at it.

"Niko, I'm gonna fucking die. Oh my God it's so ugly I'm genuinely ashamed of it. My hideous first born child," His guest, an enthusiastic but slightly hopeless bread baking tutee groaned pathetically, her upper half slumped onto the counter next to him with her face in her hands.

"It's... certainly an effort. So."

She made a distressed keen from behind her hands, a sound he imagined a slowly dying rodent might make, "Fuck this I'm sticking to desserts. The only bread I'll ever make is monkey. God."

That hardly counted as a type of bread in Nikolaj's opinion, but he digressed;

"Maybe not all is lost, Anna, the outside appearance is. Well. We can both see it in front of us but maybe-"

"Niko I swear to whatever higher being you believe in if you it's what's in the inside that counts me right now I'll throw a fuckin' tantrum."

"Frankly, I think you're already throwing one. A small one, but one nonetheless," He pulled a bread knife from his knife block (a recent birthday gift from the woman currently whining over his counter) and approached the almost bread adjacent lump to slice it.

Wow.

"It deflated."

Anna screeched something unintelligible and all but fell to the floor, crouching on his tiles. The crust had somehow completely separated from the actual bread, and was floating down pathetically onto the loaf like a sad, threadbare blanket. Nikolaj once again sucked his lips in to keep from wheezing out a laugh, his friend was having no such reservations however.

She'd gone from woeful humiliation to loud uninhibited squawks of laughter; stifled only by her hands that still hid her face, "Oh my god it's so bad!"

"Air bubbles happen," He was trying for encouraging, "It might be alright."

"Nikooooo-" She wheezed out through peels of laughter, "You know it's shit!"

"Not yet I don't." Despite his placating he was squinting suspiciously at the thing. Truth be told, he had zero inclinations or even a smidgen of faith that it would taste alright. He broke off a teeny piece from the slice he'd cut, steeling himself to try it.

His efforts to prepare himself were for naught, however, because Anna had sprung up whip-quick from her spot on his tiled floor and snatch the morsel from his fingers.

"No. No fucking way. I'll be damned if I let you try this. I'm humiliated as is and I'd sooner throw myself down this building's elevator shaft than let Nikolaj- premium baker savant perfectionist- Kato put this anywhere near his pretty mouth." She punctuated her (ridiculous) statement by tossing the bite of bread into her mouth and chewing quickly like there was a risk he'd take it back from her. He leaned back onto his counter, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the very impressive array of expressions cross her face.

"It's so bad. It is so goddamn bad," was the final review- delivered with a now deadpan face and rounded shoulders, "It's a good thing I brought my own ingredients instead of using yours like you offered. This is a total fucking waste. Of everything. Even air."

Nikolaj snorted and swiped a second small piece for himself, he wanted to know. He was desperately curious, ignoring Anna as she slowly shook her head no, tossing it into his mouth and cautiously chewing.

It really is true that curiosity killed the poor cat.

"Honestly, I'm impressed. It's texture in hand and on first bite is fine but somehow it turns to ash the second it comes into contact with saliva-" He wasn't able to suppress a huff of laughter this time "-it even tastes like ash. I imagine this is what'd it be like to scoop a handful of remains from the inside of a crematorium and try to eat it."

"Niko I am going to fucking kill myself right here in your kitchen."

She said it so dryly (as dry as the bread attempt he was currently spitting into his trash can) that he barked out a surprised laugh, nearly choking on what was left in his mouth. After a second or two she started laughing again, each exhale getting louder and louder.

"It was like trying the goddamn cinnamon challenge all over again!" She screeched and he started to laugh harder, remembering that stupid trend and how it'd gone for them when they tried it. He still had the video of it on his computer, two stupid high schoolers in atrocious 2010s fashion trying to swallow spoonfuls of spice and choking instantaneously- coughing reddish brown powder all over themselves and one another in her mother's kitchen. Her laugh increased in volume; interrupted by loud painful snorting as she tried to say something else. It came out more like the sound of a banshee choking and he had to lean on the counter to support himself as he choked on his own spit.

Her laugh had always taken him out, she'd start squawking and he'd bypass laughter and go straight to wheezing and tearing up. She flapped her hands, drawing his attention to the failed lump of bread on his counter- pointing and shrieking as it somehow deflated even further, the bottom flattening out like a punctured tire.

He guffawed (a very ugly sound, even to his own ears) at the pathetic thing and a sharp cackle bubbled out of Anna's chest at the sound. The high sharp, crack of her laughs merged with his diaphragm deep gasps and rumbly chuckles in the air of his kitchen and he briefly worried about his old as dirt neighbor rocking up to his door to bitch about the noise. He looked over at Anna as she leaned over onto the counter, grinning so big he thought her cheeks might tear as she tried to catch her breath.

Whatever. Fuck that old bag.

Nikolaj smiled back at her, not as big as her smile (no one could ever smile as big or bright as Anna did) but no less genuine or joyful, his own chest heaving as he clutched the counter corner for support.

"Niko, I'm telling you-" she straightened herself up "-I'm sticking to desserts." Her grin was still there, all teeth.

"Anna, I'm telling you," He pointed at the "bread" and smirked smugly at her, "I'm taking that thing to school tomorrow, and showing it to Ira."

"You will not show that to our meanest colleague!" She stomped her foot but her smile widened, no doubt imagining their friend's reaction to it. Ira would absolutely try it and the sharp witted woman would bring them all to their knees with the quips she'd make about it.

"Oh who knows. Maybe she'll like it! It might remind her of cigarette ash," He started and Anna let out a chuff of laughter, "You keep making that bread and bring it to her, and she'll be able to quit in no time. Wean her off with it."

"Ira'd beat you half to death with her office chair if she heard you say that!"

"I'll give her your attempt at bread, say it, then run out real quick to the infirmary so that way even if she does catch me I'll be able to get medical attention immediately."

"Wow, full proof plan. Incredible calculations." She turned to face the loaf completely, planting her hands on her hips and shaking her head, "Seriously though, the hell do we do with this? Put it out on the street, it's so bad I'm willing to chuck it to the birds. Leave my first born to the wilderness."

"Stop calling it that, also, what wilderness? This is a residential block, Anna. In a city. The wildest thing here is my neighbor."

"Oh yeah, for sure. That bitch bites I just know it. If that walking mummy gets too pissed about volume she'll snap and leave her dentures embedded in your arm. Septic bite type beat."

Nikolaj chuckled, "She'd pitch a fit if we chuck this outside, and truthfully, I don't even think the birds in this so-called wilderness will want this."

She rolled her eyes as he came to stand next to her, the both of them staring down at the halfway flat bread in amused silence. He nudged her with his hip to get her attention, "We'll try again next weekend."

She looked up at him and matched his smile, "Yeah. I'll bring my own shit again. Not using up your Grade A baking stuff to bring yet another ugly lump into this world."

[oatmealdiva]

got asked for more of my thoughts on this!!

(precanon) brad!charles and janet!edwin are on a case where they need to go to an abandoned castle in the middle of nowhere. there, they meet frankfurter!cat king who is instantly fascinated by edwin and welcomes the two to stay for the party and for the night. edwin is a bit hesitant about the whole ordeal but charles has found himself infatuated with the castles maid magenta!crystal, so they accept. the two learn from colombia!niko about the mad scientist/witch who has created rocky!monty, and he too, seems to be very drawn to edwin…

dead boy detectives rocky horror au…. let me cook

[majorlb]

I'm not done apparently-

Edwin in his little sweaters and pressed collar shirts standing on the side of the stage (he can't be in the audience, the bands crowds are known for their enthusiastic circle pits) and people who follow the band starts to notice him.

Who is this fancy young man? A manager? He's certainly new, but the old manager is still around.

He's in the background of so many pictures, and sometimes in the forefront with Charles arm around his shoulders.

They start hearing violin on the albums, but no one is ever credited (Edwin doesn't want his name on metal music, at least not in the beginning)

But the fans figure out its probably him, because once he showed up later in the show with a violin case, still standing on the side, never on stage, never playing live.

But its not until a fan straight up asks in the commentsection, "Who's the fancy one?" that they get the response "Edwin is Charles boyfriend" To which the band both lose and gain fans.

"We make music criticizing the state of the world and how capitalism and war tears humanity apart! What do you mean we 'went woke' by Charles having a boyfriend?!" writes Niko, the drummer, on Twitter.

Crystal is being physically restrained to stop her from doxxing people

[kokii-omii]

Random fun facts with my Twst ocs

(not drawn cuz i dont have my tablet with me rn)

Pan Nikos

He bit a kid once cuz the kid was badmouthing his brother

Is the Heir to the Hermes branch of Olympos

Was the team captain on his middle school spell drive team

likes to cosplay and crossplay

the magestone he has is located on the right side of his headphones instead of a pen like it normally should be

once sent a message via pigeon because his phone died and he was NOT gonna ghost someone because it was just that important (it really wasn't)

his room is an absolute MESS, wires on the floor, foam, blankets everywhere, plushies scattered on the bed, books everywhere except the shelves

used to be in a club called "Bug Collector's Club" before him and jade saw each other in the mountains doing club activities and just decided to merge clubs

the ignihyde first years are low key scared of him because they pissed him off so bad he actually started yelling at them and threatened to leak everyone's search history if they misbehaved again

he has photographic memory

Pan knows how to play the electric guitar, the flute and the lyre

teched out his shoes so he could fly

flew into a tree when he was testing it out (always wear a helmet kids)

his love language is gift giving

Peyn Algos

Has a grandma that's fae and lives in briar valley

he visits her for winter break and often helps her with the modern technology

he's his family's tech support

his mother is human and his father is fae, his mother works as an archeologist while his father is a librarian

has an older sister that's a model

has a tamagotchi named Peggy that him and Pan take care of (it was a gift from Pan)

is more magically connected than technologically (he was taught by fae after all)

he fully thought he would be put in Diasomnia given his background, but learned and adapted pretty easily to techno-magic science and stuff within the first month

Peyn's an absolute beast at DDR and any rhythm game

beefs with riddle sometimes

memorized all 810 rules of heartslabyul just so he could argue with Riddle about how absurd they are

he is VERY spiteful

is actually two weeks younger than Riddle (his bday is on August 10)

probably the only ignihyde student that likes PE and sports

his love language is quality time

Ezmond Morado

has rook on his hit list (dont ask why)

has been a genius at potion making since he was 7

the feather on his hair is a quill, he sometimes writes with it

he gets mistaken for a beautiful girl almost every day (deuce thought he was a girl at first)

his mother is a doctor while his father is a botanist

he knows how to draw really detailed plants and landscapes (cant draw people tho)

there was one time a potion brewing went wrong and accidentally turned him into a cat

has beef with leona because he's constantly making krohn do things for him (he literally does the same)

Ace is also on the said hit list (i don't think i need to explain why)

he holds grudges and NEVER lets them go

His love language is words of affirmation

Krohn Luteus

He's fully fluent in squirrel, he sometimes has full on conversations with the squirrels at school

Can absolutely boogie down and groove

he has no enemies 😌

seriously nobody beefs with the guy cuz a. he's built like an absolute unit and b. the entirety of savanaclaw would jump them if they tried anything (the pros of being Savanaclaw's chef)

he's REALLY strong

he could lift Jack, Ruggie and, Leona all at once and STILL be able to run full speed

he was a boy scout

he's also probably vargas' favorite student idk

he's dumb, maybe even a little dumber than deuce but he got the spirit

his love language is acts of service

___________________________

Pt.2 with my Yuus

[dbdakindy]

Hi, Edlington! Your kindergarten AU is so so adorable!!

I'm curious that Edwin is 4.5 years old and seems already known to read by himself. And 4-ish is a relatively young age to learn to read. Did he teach himself that? Do his parents notice, and how was their reaction to it? Do they see him as some kind of smart kid or a little genius? And how does he feel about his parents' reaction?

Thank you!

Oh my gosh, thank you! @kai-art and I are loving drawing and dreaming in this space.

Edwin has always been interested in books, since he was a small baby.

He knows his ABCs and can read some words, but isn't quite a fluent reader yet. He does lots of guessing from context clues.

Sometimes, books can be a bit scary, like this book about tarantulas.

At school, Miss Nurse teaches the alphabet, as well, but not writing yet (that will be next year).

Edwin is very curious about writing, however. His friend Niko can write some words and he wants to be able to do so, as well.

At home, Edwin wanted to write a letter for the Ice Cream Man, Mr. Kashi, requesting the cat-shaped ice cream with the gum ball nose for his friend, Thomas, because Thomas loves cats very much.

As you can see, his Papa helped him by writing some words for him to copy. Edwin is very stubborn and does not like it when his Papa watches him write, or tries to help correct him, though. (However, Edwin also gets upset when he cannot write as nicely as he would like to.)

Next time, Edwin will deliver his letter to Mr. Kashi, so hopefully he can get that special ice cream for Thomas. Fingers crossed!

[scivors]

Andre Nikto head canons

We have little information about Niko but here's what I've gathered..

((Also I'd like to kindly add, hi, hello, my name is Mika and I am a Bosnian. The chances of me adding some accurate slav head canons are always high but never low!!🙏🏻 ALSO IM TERRIBLY OBSESSED WITH NIKTO SO IF ENJOY THIS AND YOU WANT DATING NIKTO HEAD CANONS PLEASE LET ME KNOWWW))

Genuine head canons:

Andre Nikto (Никто) is a (scary) Russian military man, roughly 193/194 centimetres (when you compare him to Simon's height) He suffers with acute dissociative disorder (better said DID) yet is still serving the military cause of how he preforms during battle.., so the military still views him as a ideal soldier for combat despite his disorder..

No hate but from what I've seen in some art works claiming it's his "face reveal" you people have to understand that under his mask, his face is disfigured.. so, no he won't be an attractive super model under that mask of his..

I don't think you people are aware how badass Nikto is as a character, almost SIMILAR as Ghost who's in the military for the same reason as everybody else, to risk their life.

Although judging by Nikto's voice lines, he doesn't care who he's killing..if it were up to him, if his teammates serve him zero purpose he'd care less if they die..(after all, you're just a target..) but being a professional, he can't allow that to happen to his teammates

If you look up closely, Nikto wears a military uniform that is different from everyone else with MP-0 written on it. Now if you don't know, MP stands for Military Police (enforcement agencies connected with, or part of, the military of a state.) and zero next to it meaning "nothing" and this is important which is what Nikto refers himself as..

Yeah so about that..

I have a theory about Nikto's nickname

After being captured and brutally tortured with whatever sick tendency mister Z had in store for him. It was Mister Z that couldn't really get much Information about Andre.

They would start torturing him while repeating to Andre that he's nothing, he's no one, what he is is nothing but what he is is everything. Those words play in the back of his head and they never seen to go away.

(This is extremely relevant cause Mister Z tried to get to know a bit of Andre by looking through some research come to find his citizenship and language are censored making him a nobody. Keep in mind, if he found any information about Andre viewing from personal life etc. it will be used as blackmail..)

After recovering his scars and taken to therapy after 7 years he was diagnosed with DID

NOW moving on to the DID part

(What I said about the fact that people overlook Nikto's disorder, I mean it..

Some don't really write about his disorder which is fine but when someone does it gets messy. )

Alters aren't easy to deal with, it's actually gonna haunt you till the day that you die cause there's no cure for it. And in Nikto's case it's from PTSD and Nikto is very aware of his alters..

Let me tell you how Nikto's disorder affects him. Switching can be consensual, forced or triggered, Nikto values silence as much as the next person cause he's dealing with much inside his head already. The kind of guy that would "watch TV" while dissociating with a 100 yard glare with very slow blinking and a slight headache..

There are times where his personalities would correct him when hes referring to himself (example: I'm up..(his personality correctes him) WE'RE up..)

"He made us do this" (and other voice lines I can't recall..)

Maybe cut bits of an apple with a knife and eat it while watching TV..

He has medication prescribed for him but he didn't wanna depend on medications cause they're just drugs..they're nothing to him but just drugs..

He has dissociative amnesia too, sometimes he would wander around confused maybe even annoyed. The amnesia appears to be caused by traumatic or stressful experiences endured or witnessed..Although the forgotten information may be inaccessible to consciousness, it sometimes continues to influence behavior

Like I said he likes quiet people, someone who doesn't waste their air on small talk..

Example; don't really talk to him about the weather, unless you have something interesting to say but if the conversation is gonna go nowhere , don't talk..he finds that a waste of time

People assume just because he's Russian that he likes vodka, he doesn't like vodka...-He doesn't like any alcoholic beverage cause it makes his problems a lot worse,...maybe If you were lending him some as an offering, he'll take it but he has SOME self control, he's okay with coffee, though..

It's relevant cause he stays awake at late hours since he finds it difficult to sleep, he'll stay up late with no music, nothing, just a silent room. It doesn't matter if he tries the military tactic where you just close your eyes and turn off your thoughts, it's very different when you have voices screaming inside your head...

Despite everything he's still intelligent, so being smart + strength + sharp reflexes and you got yourself a criminal

Death doesn't phase him, but to him death is like sleeping, he's not scared of death considering that he's been through hell those past few months.

He likes the simple things, don't complicate anything..because he's quick with catching an attitude..be blunt and forward and stumble over your words..

Nikto shows confidence in the battlefield,just like König, except he has a high rush of adrenaline and will laugh at the enemies death.

Fun fact: in this one comic Price calls Nikto "psycho"

And it's without a doubt that he is one.., a sadistic, sociopathic, psychopath

After splitting, his alters can and will get more aggressive and do more harm and damage to others cause they're doing the most at protecting the host.. (depending on the alter, some wanna protect him while some wanna hurt him)

Oh by the way about the intelligence part, I mean he has a good good memory with remembering faces..

He doesn't like people looking at him funny, he'll get angry really fast and annoyed at the same time.., he won't show hesitation when it comes to approaching you and asking you what are you looking at (it's like trying to avoid eye contact with a homeless man Infront of a store, that's how scared you would be)

He's slow with jokes or any form of humor that you throw at him??? You'll be excited to tell him a joke, and when you do he just looks at you and tells you never to do that again..,or just straight up tell you he doesn't get it...??? and probably trying to explain it either he gets it or not he'll still tell you that it's not funny

He doesn't argue, or he does? Arguing with him will costs you avoiding getting objects thrown at you so you can get out of his sight..tragic, now you have a teammate that hates your guts and won't apologize for it.

[niko-mesu-the-dragon-dog]

I love your Arknights drawings and especially moslapp

I can just imagine them doing the dumb shit while Tex and Fia watch on like gods damn it not again

thank u :D!! the arknights brainrot is hitting hard and yeah they're so done. Fia had to drag them to the hospital before they kept poking each other with Lappland's unsanitized sword and contracted unknown diseases. Texas would def not care if Mostima got sick, she'd actually encourage Lappland to keep poking her with her sword

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ ii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: not beta-read. not edited. here's part 2 folks. part 3 is on the works now. did i write this fic instead of studying for my important quiz tomorrow? yes, yes i did. pls pray for my score.

masterlist.

For Christmas in 2019, Max has gotten you an apartment near his in Monaco. It is a loft apartment good for one on the 8th floor, a building away from where Daniel and Max lived. Originally, he wants to get you the unit a floor below his. You decline quickly, insisting that you are very fine with rooming with Julia and Kendall, who are both members of the Red Bull PR team whom you have gotten close with since your first year working with Red Bull. Max may have beef with the PR team for making him do a lot of embarrassing shit for the views but you're besties with most of them and actually thank them for making Max suffer through PR stuff because you cannot afford therapy and watching Max suffer through PR-related activities is a good form of free therapy. Also, Monaco apartments are fucking expensive. Red Bull might be paying you well but not well enough to afford an apartment in a country as expensive as Monaco.

“I want you close,” he tells you. If you did not know any better, you'd have butterflies fluttering in your intestines right about that moment. Sometimes, Max utter the most heart-fluttering of nonsense without meaning to. It causes your heart to stutter more times than you would like to admit.

“Well, I don't want you close.”

Max will never ever win an argument with you. He knows that. You know that. The best he can do is come to a compromise, a compromise that is usually tailored to suit whatever you want.

So you got that small loft apartment a building away, good for one person only. It's easy to clean and it's cheap, Max already said that, which makes you happy because you can set a payment plan for that. An apartment as a Christmas gift is already too much, borderline giving you a heart attack already. Rich people spending their money give you, a person of the middle class folks, heart attacks. Why can't Max be normal and give you a normal gift? A bracelet? A bag? You’ll even accept it if he gave you a slice of cheesecake. Not even your parents can buy you an apartment.

It has only been three years since the keys are passed on to your ownership and people say three years is enough time for a person to make a place home. But your apartment doesn't even feel like home, only a place you’ll sleep in if you happen to be in Monaco for the evening.

Home is that humble, two-storey house painted in red and yellow in Lynnwood Avenue, Vista Del Pueblo, Austin, a total picture of a picket fence dream. Home is Abuelo's old farmhouse in El Paso where you spent your childhood riding horses and driving ATVs across the dusty dry earth. Home is the retro milkshake place owned by the sweet old couple that has been in the neighborhood longer than your entire existence. Home is the tree-lined streets where you walked the family senior dog, Niko. Home is the Austin Fire House, your Dad’s workplace that you visited a handful of times back when you were a child to deliver cookies that your Abuela baked so your Dad could share it with his co-workers. Home is your mom’s clinic in the middle of downtown, always smelling like eugenol, disinfectant, formaldehyde, and her perfume. Home is not glitz and gold and glamor and cash cash cash. Home is not seeing wealthy people left and right. Home is not Monaco.

And it is not like you stayed long in your place either. You're always off traveling around the world with the Red Bull team and accompanying Max wherever he needs your presence. You don't even spend your breaks in that apartment because you immediately fly home to your family once a break is graciously given to you before flying off again to watch Max collect trophy after trophy.

Six days from now, you're going to be flying off to Texas. That means you have six days—less than six days actually—to pack all your crayons and go. Of course you're going to pack up the day before you leave. Doing shit last minute makes your life exciting, and it's not like you had a lot of shit to pack anyway. All your belongings can be tucked into a total of three suitcases. Three years worth of belongings in three suitcases.

you: you doin good there?

Max has been holing himself up in his penthouse since your arrival from Abu Dhabi, probably dealing with his breakup with Kelly. A shame, really. You thought the two looked good together. (Do they really? the asshole part of your brain thinks.)

And P. Thank God for that child’s existence. You hate children but P is an exception. P brings the best out of Max. Max has gotten the chance to act as the father he never had. It's heartwarming, to be honest.

him: not really no

him: can you bring me coffee

you: on it champ

Fifteen minutes later, you’re knocking on the gigantic double doors of his penthouse, a tall styro cup of espresso from that cute café two streets down and a slice of blueberry cheesecake because you’re thoughtful enough to buy him his favorite cake. You experienced a breakup before. A cake and an icecream work wonders when it came to healing broken hearts.

“You're fast,” he immediately says after opening the door. You kind of expect that he’d look worse, snotty and messy and looking like he ran from hell and back. But no, he looks……fine? His sweater and shorts look absolutely neat and comfortable and dry of snot. His hair is a little fluffy from lying on his bed but not too messy. He doesn't even look like he was crying. No red-rimmed eyes. No red nose.

You fake gasp, putting a hand on your chest for additional dramatic effect, “The fastest racer in F1 callin’ me fast. Truly honored.”

A smile plays on his lips, sidestepping and beckoning you in.

You frequently come by Max’s home, for work purposes of course, but you still cannot help but be amazed by the enormity of it every time you enter. Max’s penthouse is twenty times bigger than the apartment you currently live in. One man and a big house—it must be very lonely now that P and Kelly are no longer around. Now, you’re even more worried about what will happen the moment you go back to Texas.

Oh… You still haven't told him yet.

“Coffee,” you hand him the warm styro cup to which he accepts gratefully. He utters his thanks, taking a whiff before sipping, letting out a pleasured moan.

You make your way to his gigantic kitchen, navigating your way through his cabinets in search of a plate and a fork. You slide the cheesecake on the plate towards Max, who followed you to the kitchen and sat on the empty stool in the kitchen counter.

“Thank you,” he says, picking up the fork and taking a bite. He glances at your feet, eyes trained on your YSL. The obnoxious sound of the heels clicking against the floor as you walk probably is the one that caught his attention.

“You know, you've been wearing the same shoes since 2019.”

Points for Max for noticing. These YSL Opyum heels are the first luxury items you bought for yourself after saving for three years to buy one pair. You saw a rich international student wear it once back in university and you liked how sophisticated it looked compared to all the pairs of converse or platform boots you owned. So you made it your life’s goal to own one. In 2019, after doing tons of part time jobs in university and working with Red Bull for a whole year, you managed to buy yourself one on your birthday and you’d been wearing them to work ever since.

Your regular work uniform consists of a Red Bull polo shirt, a pencil or a slit skirt, and that specific pair of heels. Around 2021, you bought another pair to replace the old one because the old one broke. And 2022 again.

“What's wrong with ‘em?” you ask, brows furrowing as you followed his train of sight. Your heels might be a year old already but they still look fine.

Max blinks, “No, there's nothing wrong. Just…Do you think you would want to wear some other design?”

“No,” is your reply. “I like ‘em just the way they are.”

“Okay.”

Your conversation drifts into something else as Max finishes his coffee and cake. You spend the rest of the day in Max’s penthouse, lying on his plush couch while a slasher movie from the 2000s played on his wide TV. He has given you access on his Netflix account so you abused it to your heart’s content because you don't even have. a Netflix subscription. You can absolutely afford one, you just choose not to. You have opted in using your phone mid-movie because the movie is beginning to get real scary but you do not want Max to think you're a coward so you acted like you're disinterested instead.

“Oh look, Charles is also back in Monaco. Do you want to hang out together?” you nudge Max with your foot, who swats it away from him, face contorting in disgust. You show him the post on Charles private IG—yes, you were mutuals in each other's private IG because whoever is friends with Max was friends with you by extension—on your phone.

“Stop makin’ that face, my feet are nice.”

Your toenails are a glorious red now. Ferrari red actually and they suit you better than the Red Bull red. Huh, maybe you should have considered applying for Ferrari instead of Renault in 2018.

“No, it isn't.”

You roll your eyes, pulling it away from him and sitting up, “Do you want me to schedule you a dinner with Charles? You might need the bro time, you know? Dad said bro times are also important, but not as important as family time, of course. My bro broke up with his sweetheart back when I was still in uni and his best buds were the reason he was back up in tippy top shape by the end of the week.”

Max stares at you blankly, “I think I understand the words individually but not the sentence entirely. I don't know if it's the accent or you Americans just have a strange way of structuring your sentences.”

“Point is, hang out with a friend because a friend can help you move on from a pussy.”

Max hurls a throw pillow at your direction, which you luckily avoided thanks to your non-racer level but still considerably good reaction time, but unfortunately, this action causes your center of gravity to shift and before you know it, you're falling from the couch. Unconsciously, you grab Max but then Max doesn't expect that you’ll grab him so now, you’re both falling off the couch and onto the floor.

You groan.

“Fuckin’ ass, man. That was uncalled for.”

He flips you off.

Nevertheless, Max ends up following your advice though and calls Charles to hang out the next day. Lestappen fans should be thanking you on Twitter the next day for bringing those two together on an off-day in Monaco. Maybe they'll hang out and eat together in a restaurant? Maybe they'll go on a yacht picnic?

Except Max sends you a message at high noon.

him: sos

you: is your kitchen burning

him: no

him: but this is still an emergency and you need to come quick

him: he’s with his girlfriend and i don’t want to thirdwheel

you: succ it up

him: you can’t do this to me

him: i just got my heart broken in abu dhabi

you: where are you

him: home

him: i also need help in cooking

Charles is the one who answers the door when you knock. He looks genuinely surprised when he sees you and you deduce that Max hasn't told him that you're coming over.

“Babe, who’s that?” you hear Alex’s voice behind Charles and you light up immediately, quickly moving past Charles to throw your hands around the sweet young woman.

“Alex!” Alexandra laughs and hugs you back. The sound of her laughter is as pretty as she and God definitely has favorites because why did he sculpt this twenty-one year old like the daughter of the Aphrodite while you look like you were born from one of Hephaestus’ sperm that lost the gene pool contest? The world is unfair. You always get the short end of the stick, may it be career-wise or appearance-wise, and you can't even bring your personality to the table because normally, without the whole act of professionalism and sophistication you put on, you act like an extroverted American frat boy on a good day and a sassy drag queen slash war freak on a bad day so yeah, you guess that's the short end of the stick, too.

“Seriously?” you look up and saw Max holding a frying pan, staring at you unimpressed. You roll your eyes and slowly pull away from the hug, gaze returning to Alexandra.

“How’ve you been, sweetie? Been a while since I last saw you.”

You didn't get a chance to talk to her in Abu Dhabi and in Las Vegas.

“Good,” she replies, smiling sweetly and ugh, you want to pinch her cheeks so bad. But Charles is pulling you away from Alexandra before you can do so.

“No, no, she is mine, yours is right over there,” Charles says, pointing at Max, who's still standing there in the corner. “Go on. Shoo.”

You roll your eyes before walking up to Max, “‘Sup?”

Max raises a brow at you, “So Charles’ girlfriend gets a hug and I get a sup?”

“Well, she's Alexandra Saint Mleux and you’re just….” you look him up and down. “Nevermind, what you trynna cook?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“I thought you said you were cooking.”

“I said I needed help with cooking.”

Your eyes narrow into slits, “You’re going to let me do the cooking, aren't you?”

“You know that pasta you made in September that you said was your mother’s recipe?”

A sigh escapes your lips as you roll the sleeves of your button-up to your elbows and power-walked your way to the kitchen, the sound of your YSL heels clicking against the floor bouncing against the walls of Max’s kitchen.

Lunch goes great. Charles and Alexandra love your cooking. Max has even asked for seconds. Good to know that he's eating well. Somewhere down the line, champagne is served even though it’s mid-afternoon and the four of you're sitting in Max’s balcony, staring at Monaco scape below. Thankfully, it is a cloudy day in Monaco. The heat of the sun isn't too harsh on the skin. Despite that, you hand Max a sun screen.

“Sorry about Kelly, by the way,” Alexandra says. Your conversation has drifted towards Max’s failed relationship now.

“That is very nice of you to say,” replies Max, smiling slightly. “But I’m okay.”

You give him a look, clearly unconvinced. Admitting vulnerability gives him hives so he's definitely lying.

“You look too okay for a guy who ended a three-year relationship,” Charles muses and his words get you immediately thinking.

Oh? So they’ve been dating that long? You never noticed.

“Even [Name] looked worse when she broke up with that Williams mechanic two years ago and they dated for like what? Barely a year?”

“Unprovoked!” you exclaim. Alex and Max laugh.

But yeah, Charles is right. When you broke up with Leo in 2021, it was not the prettiest sight. He entered Williams mid-2020 as a mechanic and he immediately caught your attention. He's kind and handsome and a very sweet guy. You have similar interests—engineering—and a similar sense of humor and you just….work so well together, you know? You were sure he was your soulmate the moment he cracked up that Physics pickup line and you know it was the same with him. You swore to God that you’d run away from all the British charming assholes but Leo made you eat your own words and gave you a run for your money.

But alas, 2021 season came and Red Bull Racing became busier than ever because Max and Hamilton got crazily competitive and Max demanded your full attention, needing you as a support system to win.

And Leo. Well, he’s busy, too. Engineers are always busy. But he felt neglected because all your attention was on Max. He felt like he was competing with Max for your attention and it shouldn't even be a competition in the first because Leo was the boyfriend and Max was not. And you cannot even deny that you prioritized Max that year. You wanted Max to win. You needed Max to win, so he can finally ask Horner to move you to the engineering team.

Losing Leo is devastating but Max won the WDC title that year and while you spent nearly a month crying over Leo after the breakup, you're hoping that at least, in 2022, you’ll finally get that damned engineering position at the cost of losing your soulmate. That the tears you shed and the broken heart you carried inside your ribs will be worth it if it was in exchange for your dream. Then, it does not happen. The job isn't given to you and you spent the early months of the 2023 season wishing that you have chosen Leo instead of Max Verstappen.

“You’re still friends with him, right?” Charles turns to you.

“Of course,” you say honestly. You're still mutuals on IG and he still hearts your IG stories at times. You still talk, too, on the freer nights where there's a lot of time to waste. “We ended on good terms.”

“How about you, Max?”

“Can we not talk about this please?”

The four of you empty that bottle of champagne and once the sun has begun retiring for the night, Alex and Charles also left. You're soon to follow, fixing your tote bag and going through the mental checklist in your head so you will not forget anything and not waste energy returning here to pick it up.

“You can stay for dinner.”

Max’s offer surprises you.

“No.”

His face drops as quickly as your answer came.

“You're goin’ to let me cook again.”

“No, I’ll cook.”

You give him an unimpressed look. Clearly, you're not convinced.

“I swear, I’ll cook.”

“What if I get poisoned?”

“You won't get poisoned.”

When you continue staring at him, he sighs.

“Just stay please?”

Of course, you stayed. He asked after all.

You keep your eyes on him as he makes dinner with clumsy hands and a bit of unsureness behind his actions.

“You're goin’ to burn it, honey,” you point out.

“What honey? I didn't put any honey in it.”

You blink. He blinks back.

“You’re gonna give me aneurysm one day.”

Shaking your head, you walk into the bathroom at the end of the enormous hallway, lock the door behind you, lean your back against the door, and slowly slides down until your ass meets the cold bathroom floor. You slap a palm against your forehead and purse your lips to stop a scream from erupting.

God fucking dammit, Max is too adorable back there and this is not doing good things for your heart.

[katygorl]

💛🍄 Niko Sasaki Outfits: Yellow 🍄💛

================================================

Hello DBDA fandom once again! :D I've been wanting to contribute more to this fandom in some way, so here's part 1 of an idea I've had for a few months now. Like a lot of people, I loved all of Niko's outfits throughout the season, so I wanted to create some of my own! I was inspired by looking through her monochrome outfits in the show and how she didn't have a yellow or purple-themed one, so those are what I chose to design for. I took a lot of inspiration from her canon outfits, then official notes on her outfits for the season, and some fan-art mixed with my own ideas!

For this yellow-themed outfit, I wanted to lean into a more spring/summer kind of aesthetic and feel. Perhaps for a case taking place during that time, on a seemingly perfect day but the gang is investigating a haunted park/day festival. I gave her short-hair because I loved this fanart by @leahaart, so short-hair Niko is officially my favorite. I also wanted to give her a dress, because we really didn't get to see her in one, and added in some mushroom motifs, since she wore some mushroom-themed clothing in the show. The bracelets I thought were perfect because of the little ghost charm, as I thought it could be a cute reference back to Edwin and Charles!

I hope you enjoy!

((Her purple-themed outfit))

[mementomoriwithacherryontop]

Thoughts literally no one asked for but I want to share anyway: Why I'm still supporting Dead Boy Detectives

And some facts on his connection to a show I've fought for for the last several months

What is being made is as important to me as how something is made. And after I first watched Dead Boy Detectives and later learned what a positive experience it was for literally everyone involved, I knew I had to champion it.

Steve Yockey and Beth Schwartz, the showrunners, took extra care to make sure the set was a safe space for everyone who worked there. Crew members have mentioned on a Reddit thread that they mourned the cancellation not so much because of lost income, but because they wouldn't have the chance to return to a work environment that truly valued them, that respected them, and that made them love coming to work every day.

And Steve and Beth took care to make sure the writers were diverse.* This is important, because they pulled together a team of people from marginalized and diverse backgrounds to tell a story about characters who are also marginalized and from diverse backgrounds. Many of the creatives are members of the LGBTQIA community. They were strategic about casting, too. Only two characters of the main cast are white, and one of them is gay; everyone else is a POC. Niko's character was created from the ground up by Steve and her actress, Yuyu Kitamura.

Steve and Beth were intentional about their choices. I mentioned crew members above, but I want to clarify that writers and cast alike have commented, repeatedly, how safe and respected they felt on set.*

This is not the norm in Hollywood, and the choice to create in that way needs to be recognized.

And in this political climate? Queer media matters now more than ever.

As we sift through discourse regarding social responsibility and accountability when it comes to consuming media and art, the phrase, “don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater” comes to mind. Nuance matters. Details matter.

Of course he-who-shall-not-be-named needs to be held accountable. But the fact remains that he was only very loosely connected to Dead Boy Detectives. He wasn't associated with it at all until it moved to Netflix late in production and incorporated the two cameos from The Sandman. His writing credits total under 11 minutes of the 8 episode series (just those two scenes). He was never on set. He never met the cast in person. He had no creative input on the series, which he has stated multiple times. Additionally, the story isn't even based on his works; it's based on the comics by Toby Litt and Mark Buckingham. Lastly, it's worth noting he does not own the rights to the show. Steve Yockey owns the Dead Boy Detectives, and Warner Brothers has production rights.

His loose connections cannot be allowed to overshadow all the GOOD that this show did, both in it's making and in the story it tells. How art is made matters. And art that is created with kindness and respect for our fellow humans, that gives voices to marginalized people, that allows viewers who are vastly underrepresented in the media to finally see themselves represented on screen?

That's huge. That resonates with people. It's life changing and sometimes even life saving. It's a lantern in the dark, and it gives people hope.

And that matters. Quite a bit, actually. And it deserves to be championed.

It deserves to be saved. ------------------------- *Info regarding writers and set culture is largely gleaned from creators social media accounts, posts/public fan interaction, director interviews, and gameos/gameodens. For more nitty gritty on exactly what his involvement looks like in Dead Boy Detectives, this link has a ton of solid info:

[vaguesxrrow]

can u plsss write one about charles with an american reader? like the inspo is the olivia rodrigo song so american lol. like maybe him making fun of her accent and her doing the and back and like the differences between the two cultures?

ACTUALLY INSANEEE bc right before seeing this i was singing that song in my head (i dont listen to olivia but i probably should tbh). alsoo i wasn't sure if you wanted a fic or hcs, so i kind of made a 2 in 1. hope you dont mind! xx

a/n: im not american nor british and ive never been to the usa or the uk... so excuse any inaccuracies pleaseee

tags: g!n reader, american!reader, alive!reader

you shivered and exhaled sharply, your breath misting out in front of you. the moment you stepped outside, you knew you should have piled on more layers, but edwin had been eager in whisking everyone out the door to carry out an investigation for your current case.

you burrowed closer to charles. obviously, he couldn't provide any real body heat, but being near him was a boost in morale to keep going despite the temperature.

"alright?" he asked, putting an arm across your shoulders.

"i should've put on more layers," you grumbled.

charles laughed as he kissed the top of your head. "you can have my jacket."

shaking your head, you declined. "it's fine, it's not that cold. and besides, i wouldn't want to strip you of your british glory and your british coat."

charles snorted. "so it's my british glory, now? who was the one making fun of my accent literally just yesterday?"

"litch-rally," you parroted, grinning. "why is it that all your t's turn into ch's?"

"hey, you're one to talk - what is it you were ordering at the restaurant yesterday? a glass of wa-der, was it?"

"bite me, charles."

he raised his jacket up and engulfed you with it in a bear hug. you shrieked with laughter and wriggled in his hold, but didn't protest when he demanded you hold your arms out so he could put the jacket on you.

"what are you, a soccer player? i thought i was your [boy/girlfriend/partner], not your competition," you teased.

"soccer?" he mocked, outraged. "soccer? it's football, mate."

"mate?" you scoffed incredulously, although you were smiling. "way to friendzone me after months of dating."

"oh, come on, you know you could never get rid of me." charles pulled you in again, this time by your hand. "and for the record, you look cute wearing my clothes."

a few beats of silence, in which you two looked at each other with similar expressions of fondness and exasperation.

"yeah, okay, now get away from me, you victorian fossil." you shoved him playfully, and sprinted away to catch up with the other three. niko waved you over, giggling at charles, who was jogging to keep up.

"victorian fossil? i grew up in the 80s!" he exclaimed. "you know this!"

⌦ ---

- you do know very well that charles grew up in the 80s - you frequently ask him what it was like back then, because naturally, you'd take an interest in your boyfriend's life

- however, charles loves how you're genuinely interested, and get how watching times change can feel a bit lonely for him sometimes

- you're a great listener when it comes to this (which you think you should be greatly accredited for; charles' good looks can be very distracting at times)

- imagine: you and charles in your room as he looks around, inspecting the decor you have on display as he rambles about life in the 80s

- he tells you about a huge movie premiere he went to:

- charles: "get this, right - a ridiculously long line outside the movie theatre. the weather is absolutely miserable, and so are the people. no one's talking at all. i think everyone was just hungry - i saw this lady have tea delivered.

- you: 'i keep forgetting you have stuff like tea times. and did everyone really have the patience to wait for that long, in silence?'

- charles, with a fake american accent: yeah, dude. in silence.

- you throw a pillow at him.

- you also like telling hilariously bad jokes relating to his accent

- you: psst. charles.

- he turns towards you, already expecting another jab at his british-ness

- you: what day do british people eat the most?

- charles, in a deadpan: what day.

- you: chewsday, innit-

- he yells 'NOPE' and walks through the wall, leaving you to wheeze-laugh on your own

[greatcometdeservedbetter]

Nothing makes me feel more like the Joker than knowing that Tamora Pierce has an entire novel about Tris at Lightbridge that will just… never be published? Apparently?

Anyway, as a poor substitute, here’s a list of things my brain has decided happens in that book:

Tris attends under a pseudonym, as planned, and no one knows about her connection to Niko or anything about her life at Winding Circle. She is one of many children of middling merchant families in her class.

Due to a mixup, she is assigned a roommate. For the first time in a long time, Tris has no access to power or connections and so she has to put up with it.

Most of her professors find her difficult to work with because she does not limit her study of their subjects to the traditional curriculum. Maybe one or two professors pay her special attention and praise, enough that her classmates are made aware of how talented she is.

Despite having no information about her except her milquetoast background, her classmates still find her strange and difficult. Her unexplained talent and advancement for a freshman leaves her isolated from her peers.

Gradually, Tris finds herself writing to her siblings less and less because she isn’t sure how to keep her unhappiness out of the message.

Making things worse is the roommate, who turns out to have a remarkably similar kind of backstory to Tris. Maybe she’s an orphan or a scholarship kid; her magic was definitely discovered later in life after a lot of hardship. Everyone in the school embraces her and finds her endlessly charming despite her social sort comings.

Poor Tris sits in the corner of their room while her roommate goes on about all the parties and dinners and whatnot their classmates have invited her to.

Only one student really tries to befriend her. He doesn’t have a name but he looks like a young Tom Hopper (Black Sails/Umbrella Academy). A super outgoing young mage from a working class family, he’s very adept at physical magical workings and is always outside doing like pushups and stuff where people can see him. He’s not used to an academic setting, though, and anytime he sees his pull ups catch Tris’ attention, he always calls out to her and sometimes asks for her help with classwork. She finds him annoying but still helps him when be asks because no one else talks to her.

She doesn’t know how he got into the university because he is. Shockingly bad at magic.

At one point, Nico visits. He tries to keep a low profile, but some of her classmates notice them spending time together. It immediately becomes the only thing anyone talks to her about, which is the opposite of what she wants so she starts being extra prickly and avoidant to make them stop.

This goes on for a while. Lonely Tris avoids her classmates and focuses on her studies. Presumably some kind of mystery is afoot and she can throw herself into that instead of wallowing in her misery.

At the midway point, she gets more visitors. Possibly all three of her siblings, but At minimum Briar.

For the sake of moving along, let’s say it’s just Briar. They connect mentally way before he arrives and any annoyance he has at her lack of communication dispels when he feels her frustration and sadness through the bond. He rolls up ready to be her social lubricant.

He introduces himself as her brother, never mind why they don’t look alike, and easily blends into the crowd at school for a few weeks. He makes friends effortlessly, gets invited to all kinds of parties and events, and even shows off a bit of his ambient magic during classes.

This infuriates Tris. They have a fight about it shortly before he leaves. Briar rightly points out that all the work she’s doing to lie about so many big parts of her life is preventing her from seeing the obvious - that many of her classmates have been trying really hard to make friends with her.

Her roommate only told her about things she was invited to in order to gauge if Tris would also be interested and to try and invite her along! And the boy constantly doing pushups in front of her actually has better grades than he lets on because he’s looking for excuses to spend time with her and all she seems to do is study. People only asked about Nico because he was the first concrete bit of information about her that anyone had!

It takes Tris a bit of time to process this, and she will have broken some bridges beyond repair already, but she does eventually see it and slowly starts to reach out.

Her circle (ha) stays small, but her life at Lightsbridge vastly improves once she starts seeing her classmates’ bids for connection for what they are.

As she gets comfortable with people, she gets key gossip and information about the school that she had previously been missing out on. Now the mystery becomes solvable.

It was probably whatever authority figure was nice to her in the beginning. Secret, asshole me too type behavior maybe.

She ends her first year better than she started it, with a good bunch of pals to help her out going forward, and a lot more confidence in her abilities.

Maybe she visits home over the summer or maybe we cut to after her graduation, but we see her return to Emelan at the end of the book

Whoever didn’t get to see her during the plot has a chance to hug and scold her for being standoffish. Then Briar’s like “and anyway, that guy who’s obviously in love with you asked if he could stay with us for a few weeks while he gets settled at his new job, and I told him sure”

And Tris is like “What guy? No one at school was in love with me.”

And then knock knock it’s the beefy-but-smart guy at the door and Tris is like “oh shit”

End book

[brainddeadd]

Nico x Reader are not native speakers and have a barrier, but this does not prevent them from understanding each other. One day Niko wants to learn the reader's native language, but it's difficult for him to do so

Do you find it difficult to write your book? Where do you get inspiration for it?

Language Barriers

I find I have bursts of motivation, like the last few days, and sometimes I can go weeks without writing a word.

I wrote more about my writing in these posts: one, two

Personally, I find inspiration in my everyday life. I take random things people say or do and and build on it.

The evening was quiet, the two of you curled up together on the couch, your legs intertwined beneath a blanket. The soft glow of the TV flickered in the background, but neither of you was paying attention to it. Nico’s focus was entirely on you—and the notebook resting on his lap.

“I want to learn,” he had said earlier, his voice determined, the corners of his mouth quirking up in that boyish way you couldn’t resist. At first, you thought he was joking, but he wasn’t.

Your native language wasn’t easy, full of odd rules and sounds that weren’t intuitive to a non-speaker. But Nico was persistent, and now he was sitting cross-legged, notebook open, trying to write down every phrase you taught him with painstaking care.

You smiled softly, watching his brows furrow as he sounded out a word. His accent was thick, making some syllables come out clumsy and awkward. Still, he pressed on, lips moving silently as he tried to commit the strange words to memory.

“How do you say it again?” he asked, looking up at you with a sheepish grin, like he knew he was mangling it but didn’t care.

You repeated the phrase slowly, exaggerating the pronunciation, and he mirrored your lips like he was trying to absorb every detail.

He tried again. The sound was off—close, but not quite right—and you couldn’t help but laugh, your giggles filling the room.

Nico huffed, though the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement. “Why is it so hard?” he groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “Your words—they twist my tongue!”

You grinned. “Because my language has soul,” you teased, playfully nudging him with your shoulder. “You have to feel it, not just say it.”

Nico gave you a skeptical look, but his frustration didn’t last long. He leaned in closer, studying your lips again, as if proximity would unlock the secret to mastering your words.

“I’ll get it,” he whispered, his tone soft but determined. “Even if it takes me forever.”

His words were clumsy but earnest, and the emotion behind them made your heart swell. He wanted to learn this part of you—wanted to close the gap, even if it felt impossible at times.

You reached out, brushing your fingers along his jawline. “You don’t have to be perfect, Nico. I understand you just fine.”

He smiled then, a slow, warm smile that made your heart skip. “I want to understand you the way you hear it,” he murmured. “Because you mean that much to me.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken affection. No language barrier could stop that.

You leaned in and kissed him—softly, tenderly—because no words were needed for what you wanted to say. And when he kissed you back, you knew he understood you perfectly.