#okay and here's the start of the ONE cool part:

[tsukuhoe]

13. who's the cute boy with the white sweatshirt

the coffee shop buzzed with its usual morning rush, the scent of espresso mingling in the air. you stepped inside the coffee shop, your sundress swayed lightly with the movement. a soft white rosalia midi sundress dotted with a yellow floral print seemed to carry a piece of summer into the shop. you glanced at your watch— enough time before the table read started. 

you walked up to the register, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as you studied the menu. 

“good morning!” the barista greeted you. “what can i get for you?” 

“hmm,” you murmured, your voice soft but thoughtful. “a vanilla latte with two shots of espresso and a rose cold foam, please.” 

“right. your order will be soon! love your dress by the way, has anyone told you that you look a lot like y/n l/n?” 

“yes...! i get that a lot! thank you.” 

as you waited, your eyes wandered, taking in the shop's interior. your gaze brushed over a familiar-looking raven-haired man with multiple facial piercings and gauges. his hair was tied ​​half up and for a brief moment, your eyes met. you smiled, the kind of small, polite smile you give a stranger, but it felt like a spark anyway. 

when your drink was ready, you picked it up, fingers curling delicately around the cup. as you turned toward the door, your shoulder collided with someone. the next thing you knew, your latte was splashed across the floor and the person’s white sweatshirt. 

“fuck, i’m so sorry!” you exclaimed, panicking at the mess you made. looking up to see the guy you spilt your latte on. his purple eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, you forgot about the sticky, rapidly cooling liquid soaking into his clothes. 

“no, it’s okay,” he said quickly, though the words came out more irritated than he intended. “i wasn’t paying attention.” 

“neither was i,” you admitted, setting your cup down on a nearby table. “here, let me help.” you grabbed a stack of napkins from the counter and handed him a few, keeping the rest to blot the floor. 

he stood and ran a hand through his messy dark hair as you got on your knees, trying to wipe the hem on his sweatshirt, hoping it wouldn’t stain the white. his face flushing, then turning it away from your downward view. your sundress’s cleavage gave an invasive view from the angle and the position you were in didn’t help his mind to not lead to sexual thoughts. 

“i feel terrible. how much was this sweater? i’ll pay for it.” you asked, still focused on the stain. 

“you know, normally, people would ask for an autograph instead of offering money.” he chuckled, grabbing your arm and picking you up to look at him. 

“huh? i’m sorry, i don’t quite understand...." he smirked. then it clicked. you realized who you were looking at. "wait, are you suguru geto?” 

“the one and only,” he nodded with a sweet smile on his face. “and you’re y/n l/n, right? i’ve seen you a few times on the news and radio.” 

you eagerly nodded back. this was the suguru geto. the one that played a huge part in the indie music industry. the one that went on an indefinite hiatus five years ago. 

“can i buy you another drink?” he asked, snapping you out of your shocked state. you hesitated, glancing at your watch. you were going to be late if you waited any longer. fuck. “i don’t really have time—”

“or,” he interrupted, holding up a hand, “you could take this.” the raven-haired slid a sleek, black stainless steel tumbler across the counter towards you.

you frowned. “what’s this?”

“my coffee. black, no sugar,” he said, a sheepish grin tugging at his pierced lips. “i’m a little obsessed with punctuality, so i always leave early. you, on the other hand, seem like you’re cutting it close.”

you stared at him, a mix of gratitude and disbelief swirling in her chest. “you’re just… giving me your coffee?”

“think of it as an apology.”

you accepted the tumbler reluctantly. “okay, but only if you let me pay you back for that sweater.”

“deal,” he said, slipping a card out of his wallet and scribbling something on the back with a pen from his pocket. “here’s my number. text me when you’ve got time, and we’ll call it even.”

album bonus tracks: — SUGURU !!! — i have this huge hc of suguru having facial piercings n tats — he has an eyebrow piercing, snake bites, labret piercing, industrial, helix (and tits!) pierced! — and tats are placed on his upper left arm to neck <33 (idk if u can tell but i love body decor) — also on the topic of piercings n tats, choso has SO MANY (which we'll talk about some other time) — excited to update more (if u couldn't tell by my little spree lately) ⋮ MASTERLIST  ֹ⋮  PREVIOUS  ⋮  ֹNEXT  ⋮

. ꒷ TAG LIST .ᐟ.ᐟ [CLOSED 50/50] @celloccino @shokosbunny @nymphsdomain @alpha-mommy69 @soulairess @poopooindamouf @reyna-isabellaa @justamina-blog @koreluvsspring @mayhemfellasleep @clamousera @roxy776699 @l-ilysm @ayla-1605 @kaemaybae @starmapz @gigiiiiislife @puppyminnnie @desideityy @yuhig-blog @kaiiibxby @ami20019 @kentochronicles @missthatgirl @lauuriiiz @emi311 @lunavelha @coffeeisbehindyou @freakadelick @theclassbookworm @ladytamayolover @tojirin @fuckisthatahotghost @odxrilove @perqbeth @rxi-n-lyche3 @sugoroo @mentallyunpresent @naviaberries @wil10wthetree @thesharkcollector @harryzcherry @ghost-buddies @tearshedder @mourn1ng-dov3 @hellokittyish @good-mourning0 @shoma-nom @elegancefr @norikuna

[sirhamburrger]

ᯤ feat. yoichi isagi, meguru bachira, hyoma chigiri, rin itoshi, seishiro nagi, kenyu yukimiya, ryusei shidou and oliver aiku ᯤ tags/cw: all characters are aged up, bit suggestive (shidou you freak), petnames ('sweetheart' in isagi's, 'love' in rin's, 'babe' in shidou's), rin is mean (affectionately), shidou being a freak in the minecraft bedsheets, but also really sweet, hopefully not that ooc, i have a semi-serious, semi-casual relationship with minecraft ᯤ a/n: no reason for this whatsoever no prompt no nothing just take this love child between me and my insomnia *shoves this into your arms and runs away* || divider by @sister-lucifer part 2 [rocket league ver with kuni, reo, karasu, sae]

yoichi isagi:

ᯤ is just kinda average at it. like he truly is just okay at it. ᯤ he’s so competitive though (he would ‘race you to that tree over there’ 😭 but he doesn’t know how to sprint so he always loses to you) ᯤ he likes the little sounds the eyes of ender make when you place them in the end portal frame ᯤ defeats the ender dragon with your help but makes you go ahead of him when exploring the nether ᯤ “hey uh sweetheart? why’s that green thing flashing white and making a noise” ᯤ favourite mob: chickens (they’re funny)

meguru bachira:

ᯤ he l o v e s minecraft so much it’s unbelievable (he was probably one of those kids who grew up playing it) ᯤ he loves trying out different hacks he sees on youtube. he knows that 99 percent of the time they don’t even work, but “there’s a 1 percent chance it will, and i’m feeling lucky today!” ᯤ lets you practice your shooting skills using his avatar as a dummy ᯤ cannot wire redstone for shit ᯤ tries to get the rarest (dumbest) in-game death messages ᯤ baabaabaachira experienced mid-life crisis while being attacked by tropical fish ᯤ favourite mob: cave spiders (they look scary in a cool way)

hyoma chigiri:

ᯤ plays for the mobs. will protect his lovelies with all his heart. ᯤ when he got his first minecraft dog, he built a little kennel made of cherry wood for it, only for it to fall into a pit of lava deep in the caves on day 5 ᯤ he cried for five hours ᯤ once you dyed all his sheep pink and he started to tear up just from looking at them ᯤ “hear me out, okay? i think we should get a pet axolotl.” and it’s legal in japan, so you do! (her name is hyoma jr) ᯤ has a huge minecraft zoo ᯤ favourite mob: parrots (they can sit)

rin itoshi:

ᯤ is mean to you at first. he’ll be like “why do you suck at this” and “i could do that too” ᯤ then he gets his hands on the controller and can’t figure out the controls for half an hour ᯤ “… love?” ᯤ “… yes, rin?” (you, amused) ᯤ “… how do you jump…” ᯤ its subtle charm does grow on him after a while. he plays on creative mode and just explores the server on a horse he named sugarcube ᯤ it’s cute watching him play (you send photos to sae) ᯤ favourite mob: sheep (all they do is eat grass and don’t bother you)

seishiro nagi:

ᯤ i will subvert expectations here and say that nagi doesn’t even play minecraft that much because he doesn’t like it ᯤ “such a hassle to play this game… there isn’t even any storyline you can just do whatever you want… and i don’t want to have to decide what to do” ᯤ he ends up finding a passion for building elaborate traps for you to walk into ᯤ absolute beast at parkour. he performs triple neos to perfection ᯤ if he’s a streamer he plays on twitch for the fans but he complains as he does it ᯤ favourite mob: bees (they’re just cute)

kenyu yukimiya:

ᯤ he doesn’t really play video games so understandably he gets off to a slow start ᯤ but once he gets the hang of things? he’s unstoppable. breezing through achievements like nobody’s business ᯤ he’s really excited about it too like “did you see that?? i just killed a zombie!” ᯤ it’s truly the culmination of 18 years of not touching a single game as a child/teen and now playing a sandbox game ᯤ feeling confident, he starts a hardcore world. (he dies from hunger.) ᯤ he's the kind to look up the most beautiful minecraft seed numbers, key them in meticulously and just take in how amazing they are ᯤ favourite mob: foxes, specifically the orange ones (he loves all things forest biome)

ryusei shidou:

ᯤ we all know he’s a very artistic kind of guy so he’d be geeking out over the textures and which colours would go best with each other ᯤ he doesn’t shower for a day because he’s playing creative (my lil stinky 🫶) ᯤ he builds the most beautiful multi storey houses!! and he’s like “if it were real we could live in there together 🥺“ ᯤ “why is the bedroom huge with like twenty beds…” (you, concerned) ᯤ “oh we’re gonna need space babe. for activities.” ᯤ but he doesn’t stop there; he learns how to make entire cities and landscapes and frankly they are masterpieces - think shovel241 (i freaking LOVE his videos they’re so satisfying) ᯤ favourite mob: endermen (he thinks they look badass)

oliver aiku: 

ᯤ meh he’s pretty good ᯤ raged when he first found out fall damage was a thing and again when he discovered hunger and drowning as death messages ᯤ is obsessed with speed runs and parkour for some reason (he’s really bad at both though) ᯤ is the guy who makes “100 MINECRAFT FACTS YOU DIDN’T KNOW” videos with his friends sendo and lorenzo ᯤ you once saw him set up an experiment to see how many blocks a llama can spit and died laughing ᯤ would absolutely kill you in-game just for the fun of it ᯤ favourite mob: cats (especially the black ones)

say hi to hyoma jr. it is not optional.

bllk masterlist || general masterlist

© sirhamburrger 2024

[jasper-the-menace]

There are a lot of things I don't like about "modern retellings" of (usually Greek) myths - a fundamental misunderstanding of mythology, having little to actually do with the mythological figures and gods, using it as an excuse to shit on pagans like me, et cetera - but one of the most frustrating ones is that none of them are actually modern. Instead, they take the Walmart TERF approach to feminism and go "#girlboss!" without actually looking into the history of women during the time of those myths or understanding what it's supposed to do at all. They also don't even take place in the modern day - they're set in some sort of pseudo-Ancient Greece.

Like, okay, here. Let me outline what I'd consider a modern retelling of a myth, using the Perseus myth as an example.

Perseus is a college-aged young man still living with his mom, Danae, in the "big city" (fuck it, let's say Springfield, MO) and trying to make ends meet because they're both working two part-time jobs because none of the jobs actually want to pay for insurance or retirement or whatever. Danae sometimes meets with her best friend and coworker Clymene and Clymene's husband Dictys, who live out in the country and go fishing and hunting during various times of year. Dictys has a brother named Polydectes who is the grown-man version of a Silicon Valley tech bro who's, I don't know, into crypto and shit.

While Polydectes is living on Dictys's couch and ranting about how he's totally gonna be a rich Wall Street executive some day, he sees Danae talking with Clymene while they gut fish and is like "hot chick, gonna stalk her" and is all creepy about it. Perseus is not about that shit, so he starts trying to find a way to get Dictys to back off.

At this point, any number of things could happen. If you want a girlboss Medusa story, she could be, I don't know, a deep web or black market assassin-for-hire and Perseus scrounges up money for it. If you want something more lighthearted and silly, maybe this is taking place in what is essentially a Yugioh-style world where the fate of things lands on card games and Perseus uses a Medusa-esque card to kick Dictys's ass. Medusa could even just be a coworker of Danae and Clymene and overhear them bitching at work about Dictys so she goes to Perseus like "Dude, do you want me to help take care of that guy messing with your mom?" Literally anything could happen at this point.

You don't even have to erase Andromeda! She could be anything from a classmate of Perseus's that he helps out to his coworker that he protects from creeps to...well, again, literally anything! It's a modern world, she's got all kinds of possibilities!

See? A modern retelling would actually be cool as shit if people paid attention to the "modern" part!

[coco-loco-nut]

Chasing Desire

pairing: charles x reader

summary: you never meant to fall in love, but you didn’t plan on being in a love triangle with your best friend and his older brother either

a/n: i’ve been writing a lot of charles recently, sorry, but he’s been a part of my rare inspiration lately... also apologies for the novel

masterlist requests open

——————————

“Are you sure you’re the professional driver?” you ask, pulling off your helmet. The smell of gasoline a familiar comfort on the race track.

“I let you win,” Arthur lies.

“And you, Charles?” you look to your best friend’s brother, who is either staring at you or something behind you.

“Um, same thing. You know, being an F1 driver and all,” Charles stutters, snapping out of wherever his mind is.

“Sure, you just can’t admit you lost to a retired driver,” you laugh, letting the race suit drop to your hips.

“Whatever makes you feel better,” Arthur slings an arm around your shoulder and you feel a sort of butterflies in your chest, the ones that you push away every time.

There is no way you can be crushing on Arthur, your best friend since he returned to karting. You’ve been almost inseparable ever since. You’ve both seen each through hardships. He was there when Prema dropped you when you ran out of funding in F3 last season and no driver academy wanted you. You were there when he was struggling in F2.

“Get away, Thur, you reek,” you gag for added effect.

“I want ice cream. Let’s go get some,” Charles interrupts, causing you to almost jump away.

You clear your throat, looking back at the track. “Yeah, that sounds good,” you agree, almost wanting to disappear back into the locker room.

In the locker room you stare at yourself in the mirror.

“Quit it, that’s Arthur, your best friend,” you tell yourself. Ollie always joked that you followed Arthur like a lost puppy, but you never believed him. Well, until now.

“Everything okay?” Charles asks. opening the door to his car for you.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” your brows furrow as you take a seat on the cool Italian leather.

“You just seem off,” Charles shrugs, brushing it off when you don’t reply. He looks up into the rearview mirror, silently asking Arthur if he has an idea. A simple shrug from Arthur confirms that he doesn’t know either. Maybe you have an exam coming up? They just don’t know. “So, how’s school?” Charles tries again, getting success when you look up from your phone.

“It’s fine. I’m on track to graduate early, but the job search isn’t great,” you frown, a little hesitant to talk about the last part.

“How? You were an incredible driver, surely that looks good on your resume?” Arthur asks, jumping in before Charles can offer you a job.

“Well, you’d be surprised to know that driving apparently does not really provide direct experience in data science,” you huff, turning your phone off as you cross your arms. It’s hard enough since you started university late.

“Oh! Ferrari is-“

“No,” you and Arthur reply at the same time. The butterflies start to return as you glance out the window.

“It’s called using your resources and network, it’s not like I’m directly getting you a job,” Charles tries to reason.

“As soon as I write your name, they will hire me. I want to be hired on my own merit,”

“But,”

“No buts,” you don’t dare to speak out loud what you want to add. It would crush Charles.

He tried so hard when Arthur revealed you didn’t have funding to get a team to pick you up. He talked to other drives, team principals, engineers, anyone. He had no luck, and when you found out it crushed you. Not only were you not good enough, any offer you would even receive would be because of Charles. From that moment you vowed that every single accomplishment going forward would be of your own merit.

“Ooo, we are here,” Charles cuts the tension, putting the car in park. You’ve never met anyone who loves ice cream more, even when it’s a bit chilly.

“Are you excited to go to Greece?” Arthur asks and you nod, practically feeling the sun on your skin.

“I cannot wait for finals to end and fly out,”

“Where exactly are you going?”

“Mykonos,”

“I’m so jealous,” Arthur groans, thinking about how much nicer it would be.

“I bet, certainly nicer than racing,” you chuckle.

“What is?” Charles turns towards you in the line.

“Greece,” Arthur answers for you. You simply nod, thinking about the white sand beaches.

“Oh, when are you going?” Charles asks. You are a bit thrown off at his prying today, but shrug it off as him not having seen you in a while.

“Before Austria. I’ll fly from Mykonos to Spielberg,” you answer before placing your order.

Charles watches as you chat with Arthur. The bright lights illuminate your smile, a crinkle in the corners of you eyes, and how you look like Arthur holds the world in his hands. You lean into Arthur as he tells you something that must be funny, because your laugh floats through the air. It’s one of those moments where Pascale or Lorenzo would make a comment. One that Charles wishes deep down was about him and how the two of you belong together.

Arthur attends your graduation, sending plenty of pictures to the family group chat and even making a sweet post on Instagram about it. And then you are in Greece, a couple of your girlfriends accompanying you for the first week.

“Hey, how’s day three going?” Arthur asks as soon as you pick up.

“Good, I’m exploring the town right now. What’s up?” you ask. Arthur called earlier in the day then planned, worrying you a little.

“I couldn’t wait to tell you. I got a girlfriend,” Arthur says excitedly. You feel your heart drop to your stomach. “Y/n?” Arthur’s voice snaps you out of your trance.

“Sorry, I was looking at a pastry. That’s great news, I’m so happy for you,” you say, even though you don’t feel like it. Your mind drifts as Arthur tells you about her and something in you shatters a little.

“I’m so sorry,” you pull your phone away from your ear as you bump into someone. “I gotta go, Thur. Call you later,” you quickly hang up, staring into a beautiful pair of brown eyes.

“I’m not,” the man smiles back as you feel your cheeks flush. He stands out against the white buildings that surround you.

“You aren’t?” you brush a stray hair back behind your ear.

“No, not if I get to meet a beautiful woman such as yourself,” he replies smoothly. Your heart doesn’t know what to feel, it went from zero to one hundred very quick.

“I’m Y/n, nice to meet you,” you extend your hand. The man takes it and kisses the back.

“Achileas, but my friends call me Achi. You look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?” he asks.

“Not unless you live in Monaco,” you shake your head, suddenly aware that you are standing in the middle of the street. Achileas notices as well and subtly ushers you towards a cafe.

“Hm, you are a race car driver, no?”

“I was, not anymore. How did you know?” you are shocked, it is rare someone would recognize you.

“Of course I remember the pretty girl who won the sprint race in Monaco. The fans were so excited, it was the first time I paid attention to a non F1 race,” he says, making you feel important. Monaco, your final win in F3, and a home win nonetheless.

“I don’t know what to say, I’m honestly so flattered,” you tilt your head down, trying to hide the blush.

“Can I ask why you don’t race anymore?” he asks after both of you order at a table.

“I, um, ran out of funding. Couldn’t put myself through university and race at the same time. No team wanted to sign me to their driver academy and that was that,” you tell him. It still stings to admit, but you are proud of how far you got.

“I’m sorry. You seemed like a great driver,” Achileas says, putting his hand over yours.

“I still watch my friends race, it’s enough for me. What do you do?”

“I act in the United States,” he smiles, gladly letting you turn the attention to him.

“That’s so cool, what brings you here then?” you follow, curious about the Greek man in front of you.

“Ah, well there’s no point in hiding it. I’m a Prince of Greece. Purely symbolic, my family holds no power, just a title,” he reveals to you, catching you off guard. You expected something simple, like a vacation, not being royal.

“Oh, wow. And you made being a failed driver sound cool,” you quickly recover from your shock. You try to act like you do around Charles, like there is nothing that makes them different from you.

“Hey, it is cool. You probably know a lot of great drivers, including yourself,”

“I mean, yeah. I’m best friends with Arthur Leclerc and I do know Charles pretty well. But that’s no where near the same level as being an actual prince.”

“Let’s agree that they are both equally cool. Can’t be fighting on our first date, no?” His suave smile disarms you, sending your head spinning.

“No,” you agree.

One date slowly turns into dinner the next evening, and breakfast the morning after, to a spending the whole day together.

Charles watches your socials just for a glimpse of you. You post stories of your outings, or you laying on the beach, but Charles assumes that your friends are taking the photos, until the second week.

Arthur’s phone rings shortly after hanging up with you. He begrudgingly answers, not in the mood to speak anymore. “What’s up, Charles?”

“Did you see Y/n’s Instagram post?” Charles asks, trying to sound calm, but it just comes out rushed.

“Yeah, what about it? She’s having a great time,” Arthur sighs. He knows how Charles looks at you protectively, but didn’t realize it was anything other than in a little sister way.

“She’s cuddled up to some guy on the beach. And that guy is a prince. She’s with a prince, Arthur. An actual prince, not in a figurative way like me!”

“Yeah, that’s her boyfriend. They met last week,”

“How do you even compete with that?” Charles exasperates.

“I thought you didn’t like her like that?” Arthur asks, a foreign irritated feeling lacing his voice.

“I lied,” Charles frowns, plotting his next move.

“Just… don’t fuck it up for her. She seems really happy,” Arthur sighs before hanging up.

The sand is soft underneath you as you lay on top of your beach towel. Achi lays beside you, watching you flip the pages of your book. He has a small smile on his face, amused at your facial expressions and how you seem to read faster. He leans in, brushing away a stray hair that you keep trying to blow away, only to startle you out of your trance.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” his voice is soft, watching you mark the page you are on.

“No, it’s okay. I want to spend time with you,” you smile, turning your attention to him. You leave far too soon for your liking, you’d happily stay here.

“Well, I would hope so,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you as you shift close to him. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, content in the moment with you.

“I don’t want to leave,”

“Then stay the summer here with me. Or until you decide what you are doing next,”

“I have to go to Austria, but I could be convinced to return,” a playful smile makes its way to your face as Achileas flips you underneath him, arms on both sides of you.

“Is this convincing enough?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you giggle, tilting your chin up as he leans down to kiss you. It starts slow, teasing yet sincere, turning into a passion that urges you to stay. “Okay,” you whisper as your lips part. You watch his eyes light up, excited that you agreed to stay.

“I can’t wait,” he grins, moving from on top of you.

“I will miss you while I’m away,” you frown slightly. You’ve fallen into a comfort that you never expected. For the first time ever, you haven’t found yourself thinking about Arthur or the crush that has been haunting you.

“I think you will survive, but I could always join you,” you perk up a little. Why hadn’t you thought of that?

“You’d do that?”

“Of course. I can watch with a professional, and I’m sure I could acquire a pass,” Achileas smiles, mentally planning it all.

“I’d love for you to join me,” you don’t even hesitate.

“Why don’t we head out?” he suggests, standing up and offering you a hand. You take it and quickly pack up. You walk hand in hand through the town, before a sound makes you pause.

“Did you hear that?” you ask, turning towards a small alley.

“It sounded like a meow,” Achi says, letting you search. You find a vibrant orange kitten in distress.

“You poor baby,” your voice is soft as the kitten approaches you. You look up at Achi, eyes asking what to do.

“The kitten seems to need help and it’s all alone. I don’t see an issue with helping it,” he shrugs. You carefully pick the kitten up and hold it to your chest.

“Do you think I could keep it?”

“We can do some research. Let’s get some food for it,”

“It’s a boy,” you smile as you quickly check the kitten’s gender. “I’m going to name you Leo,” Achi is amused and in awe at how tenderly you are caring for the kitten. It’s the greenest possible flag.

You wait outside the store as Achi buys some food for the kitten. As you wait, you send a picture to the group chat you have with Arthur and Charles, telling them that you are trying to adopt the kitten.

The last couple days of your trip is spent planning arraignments for your return and for Achileas to attend the race with you. Leo is staying at the vet, receiving treatment then getting neutered so you can officially adopt him.

“Arthur!” you wave, practically dragging your boyfriend through the paddock in search of the Leclercs. You find them talking to Pierre near the Alpine garage.

“Y/n! You look great, the sun treated you well,” Arthur hugs you tight.

“The sun isn’t the only thing that treated me well. This is Achileas, my boyfriend. Achileas, this is my best friend, Arthur,” you introduce them.

“You really need to cool it on the death glare,” Pierre tells Charles who is looking between you and the tall Greek man behind you. The sun-kissed glow of your skin makes Charles fall harder, and your closeness to Achileas makes him want to puke.

“What death glare? I’m not jealous,” Charles says defensively.

“You are literally in love with your brothers best friend. You hate her boyfriend without ever having met him. You adopted a dog two days ago and named it after her kitten that she rescued the day before. But you aren’t jealous?” Pierre raises an eyebrow.

“Well, when you put it that way,” Charles trails off, looking at the way you lean into Achileas’ touch, his arm securely around your waist as if it was meant to be there.

“It’s funny, she always followed Arthur around like a lost puppy. I always assumed they would get together once they figured out they liked eachother, but now they are dating different people,” Pierre continues, not being a help to Charles’ mental health.

“That’s not true, he doesn’t like her like that,”

“That you know of. Just like how he didn’t know you like his best friend until recently,” Pierre continues.

“Charles, come say hi to your guest,” Arthur calls his brother over.

“I missed you,” Charles wraps his arms around you, holding the hug for a second longer than normal. You are thrown off by it all. Charles has never said something like that before, and what gives him the right to hug you that long.

“Yeah,” you pat his back awkwardly as he lets go. “Meet my boyfriend, Achileas,” you step back so they can shake hands.

“Charles Leclerc, I race for Ferrari,” Charles puffs his chest slightly, trying to intimidate but he just comes off like an asshole. Pierre and Arthur do their best to avoid rolling their eyes.

“I’m going to go say hi to Pierre,” you are clearly thrown off a little by Charles, but allow them to interrogate your boyfriend while you speak to the Frenchman.

“Alright, what’s going on?”

“No idea. Probably just trying to get a read on your Greek warrior,” Pierre shrugs, keeping Charles secrets even if he would normally gossip with you.

“He is isn’t he?” you look dreamily at your boyfriend, who seems to need saving.

“Sure. I’ll see you later,” Pierre leaves, having a job to do.

“Should I be worried?” Achileas asks as soon as the two of you are out of earshot, well you think you are.

“About who?”

“Charles,”

“Not at all, I don’t get what girls see in him, but maybe that’s from growing up with him.” You shrug. Your mind briefly drifts to how weird Charles was acting. Does he not want to be your friend anymore? Why was he so standoffish to Achileas. Meanwhile, Charles feels a stab in his heart at your words. Maybe he never did stand a chance.

“Sorry to cut in, but I need to do my best friend duties. You can meet us back at Ferrari,” Arthur says, pulling your boyfriend away from you. You are left with Charles and Pierre, who just stare back at you.

“Well, I have a team meeting and this feels awkward, so I’m gonna go,” Pierre disappears into the garage. You stand in the awkward silence for a minute before turning to walk back to Ferrari hospitality.

“Y/n, wait,” you feel a gentle tug as your arm as Charles catches up with you. “Is there something wrong?” he asks, brows furrowed as you barely meet his eyes.

“I get this feeling that you don’t like my boyfriend. Why?” you ask, watching Charles fumble for his words. “If you can’t be happy for me like Arthur is, and like I am for Arthur, I don’t know if we can be friends.”

“No, no, I am happy for you. I just didn’t expect to see him here,” Charles lies, not wanting to ruin anything. He feels like he’s barely hanging on to your relationship.

“Well you certainly aren’t acting like it,” you frown. Charles reaches out, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You jerk, quickly stepping out of the small embrace. “What are you doing?”

“I- well, I, um,“ Charles stutters, confused at your coldness. “I was going to give you a hug and apologize,” he watches your eyes narrow before there is a shift of resolve.

“Just, don’t be weird,” you shake your head. The walk back is silent. Charles looks at you oddly, a mix of concern and confusion.

He keeps a bit of distance the rest of the weekend, watching you explain different aspects of racing. Arthur expressed his approval, making things somehow worse for Charles.

“Cha,” you call him over to you on his way to the garage before the race.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah, just wanted to say good luck. I hope you win,” your smile brings a sense of normalcy, like the two of you haven’t spend the weekend carefully avoiding each other. The concern on Charles’ face melts into something softer.

“Thank you, ma chérie,” he opens his arms slightly, subtly inviting you to hug him. You lean in, wrapping your arms around him. He notes how perfectly you fit in his arms. Charles resists the urge to happily sigh, relieved that the standoff is over.

It’s just what he needs to win the race, but before he can invite you to the after party, you are gone. Back to Greece with your lover, the Prince who stole you away before Charles had the nerve to say something.

Charles doesn’t see you again until just before Monza. He knocks on your and Arthur’s apartment door, delivering some frozen meals from Pasquale for Arthur. You open the door, hair slightly disheveled, messy mascara, tanned skin from the Greek sun, and a pullover that barely covers your shorts. You’ve never looked so perfect.

Charles opens his mouth to speak, but the tears start flowing. He steps inside behind you, following you to the living room after making a quick detour to shove the food in your freezer. You haven’t been back for long based on the lack of food in the fridge and the lack of your decoration.

Charles sits beside you on the couch, conscious of his actions. Your cat, Leo, sits on the other side of you. He looks around the living room, a framed photo of you and Arthur on a podium hanging beside other individual pictures or pictures of the two of you. Some of your trophies are mixed with Arthur’s, showcasing your achievements.

“Cherie, what happened?” Charles gentle voice cuts through the silence.

“He left. He’s going back to America,” you hold back sobs, the more you speak it, the more real it becomes. You had numbly backed your bags and flew back to Monaco, ignoring the apologies from the man who broke your heart. “I should’ve known he’d drop me as soon as the summer ended,” you tilt your head back in an effort to stop your tears. You never want to cry over a man again.

“I’m so sorry,” Charles whispers, unsure of what to say. You feel anger bubbling up, slowly replacing your sadness.

“God, I paused my whole life for him. I should be starting a job right now, learning how to adult. Instead I wasted my whole summer on white sand beaches and false promises,” your words are venomous, rather than sorrowful. It scares Charles a little bit, he’s seen you angry before, but not like this. Your eyes meet his, betraying your words. He sees the deep hurt and sorrow that they hold and wants nothing more to heal it.

“How long have you been home?” Charles asks, not noticing you subconsciously shifting closer.

“A few days,” your tone shifts, as you take a shaky breath in an attempt to level yourself.

“Y/n, I’m home, dinner is in the kitchen if you want anything,” Arthur calls out as he enters the apartment. He stops abruptly when he notices you on the couch. “You’re alive, and Charles is here.”

“I am here, Maman sent me with meals for you,” Charles says, taking the attention off of you.

“Are you okay? I haven’t seen you leave your room since you got home?” Arthur stares at you, analyzing any move you make.

“I’m okay,” your voice is hoarser than you intended, a small crack cuts through your words.

“I gotta shower, but we are talking later,” Arthur nods, disappearing into his room.

“You haven’t left your room?” Charles turns back to you.

“I think you know that answer,” you bring your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly.

“If I offered to help, would you take it?” Charles’ mouth is moving faster than his brain as he thinks of ways to help you.

“Maybe,”

“I need some help with the data. There’s a chance for the team to win the constructors championship and for me to take second in the drivers is everything works out right,” Charles trails off a little, gauging your reaction.

“I don’t want a job because you feel sorry for me,” your voice is firm causing Charles to panic a little.

“It isn’t, I promise. Why don’t you come to Monza and do a test run? See if you like it and if you do I will hire you,” Charles offers, watching the wheels turn in your brain. “I know you feel like you wasted your summer, so I’ll give you a good bonus if I win one race,” his words seal the deal for you. It goes against everything you have said before regarding jobs, but you can’t lie and say that the job won’t be beneficial.

“One test run, then I will give you my answer,” you confirm, watching Charles light up a little.

“Great, I’ll talk to Ferrari and work everything out. We leave for Monza tomorrow.”

Charles picks you and Arthur up early the next morning, bringing with him a Ferrari team polo and folder.

“All the essential data for you to get familiar with, according to the team at least. We will get your Paddock Pass in Monza,” Charles explains. You get to work in the car, looking over the data and using your computer to analyze it further.

“This is Emilia, she will be showing you around and telling you about the data team while I do media,” Charles hands you off to the girl who isn’t much older than you.

“You are a very strong racer,” she says at the end of your tour and training, catching you off guard. “Of course I looked you up when Charles insisted that he has his own data analyst, Ferrari kept tabs on you,” her comment is enough to make you stop.

“They did?”

“Yes, your data is impressive. I can show you the file,” she offers. All it takes is a head nod and you are being shown a file you never thought existed. You read the comments, doing your best to keep a neutral face in the dim room. Fast driver, high ceiling, not enough sponsors. The three phrases that sustained and killed your career accompany the numbers. It almost hurts knowing that teams did see your potential, but didn’t choose you because of money.

“Wow,” you whisper, scanning the page over and over again. You had looked at your racing data for various school projects, but it is different with the team commentary.

“Time for a track walk,” Charles pops his head in, breaking you out of your trance. You whisper a quick thanks before running out after Charles.

You stay busy all weekend, working out different strategies and areas for Charles to improve. It does pay off as you watch Charles bring home the win. Arthur insists you join at the parc ferme to celebrate. Charles hugs Arthur first before turning to you.

“I think this is a strong start to your career,” he quickly hugs you before moving down the line. You can see your new resume line now: assisted Formula One driver in winning during first weekend on team. So you do take the job, you would be crazy not to.

Ferrari hires you through the end of the season. Charles is thrilled. He likes the idea of being your white knight, mending your broken heart one race at a time. He watches you open up more and your relationship strengthens.

You do your best Elvis impression as you enter the paddock on race day with Charles. “Viva Las Vegas,” you sing with an exaggerated vibrato. Charles tries to contain his laughter as Max approaches.

“They had no need to hire Elvis impersonators this year, Ferrari has one on staff already,” he teases. You bonded over your cats, and cat Leo and dog Leo have had play dates with Jimmy and Sassy.

“Shut up,” you laugh. This is the version of you the Charles has been waiting to see again. “Oh shit,” your demeanor changes as you try to hide behind Max and Charles. Charles follows your line of sight to the man talking to someone across the paddock. Max looks confused, but notes how Charles wraps an arm protectively around you.

“I can get someone to kick him out,”

“That’s a bit extreme,”

“I have no idea who you are talking about, but I’ll do it,” Max offers, earning a slight smile from you before it deepens to a frown again.

“Getting broken up with is hardly a reason to kick him out unless he is actually bothering me,” you shrink slightly into Charles, who quickens his pace a little.

“That’s Leo’s dad? Let me at him,” Max is jumping at the chance to punch someone, a lot of pent up energy from conflicts this season. Max may be a sweetheart most of the time when he isn’t racing, but he was raised by Jos.

“Can we just go to hospitality? There’s nothing that an espresso and showing security his picture can’t fix,” you suggest. Max pouts, knowing you are right. Charles gives Max a look, one that tells Max to shut up before he hurts the situation.

“Well, I gotta go. Future World Champion stuff,” Max says, walking away. He does end up confronting Achileas, but he doesn’t say anything out it, and Achileas is too scared to reveal what was said.

“Are you okay?” Charles asks as you sip your espresso.

“Surprisingly, yes. I freaked out a bit at first, but he’s in my space. He’s the one who should be insecure,” you state, making Charles proud at how far you’ve come in two months.

“I’m proud of you. I know that whatever you do after the season you are going to excel,” the words are reassuring and you feel a warmth in your heart. The same kind that you used to feel for Arthur. It’s like you are seeing Charles in a different light than you had before. Charles silently watches you stare at him, stuck in your own head, before you look away at whatever is on the TV behind him.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, thank you for bringing me on,” you thank him. The mood is heavy, keeping both of you silent, not wanting to break the odd silence. “I’m going to grab some food, I’ll need it if we go to Max’s after party,” you abruptly say, standing up and leaving. Your phone and coffee remain on the table, so Charles doesn’t bother getting up. You return with two plates, setting one down in front of him. “I got your meal, you need to eat now so you have energy for the race. The window is closing,” you motion to the food with your fork.

“Thanks. You’ve been a great support too, by the way. I don’t think I would’ve done as well without you,” Charles smiles over his glass of water.

After the meal you disappear to find Emilia and work on data. You don’t see each other until your quick meeting on your findings and final race suggestions.

“Have you thought about joining the team full time?” Emilia asks as the race starts. There is a flicker of hope in your chest. Maybe Charles was right, the job can further your career. “There’s an opening working with the driver academy team. I’ll put in a recommendation for you if you want it,” she explains.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you are a bit speechless, excited about the opportunity.

“Great, I’ll send you the application information,” she says before turning back to her work. You refocus on the live data, making notes of where Charles can improve to send to his race engineer.

Charles barely misses the podium so you go back to the team hotel with Emilia, waiting on the text from Charles saying that he’s leaving for the club. Max already sent you the invite, but you don’t want to show up alone. You do end up showing up alone though, having made it to the club before Charles did. You beeline to the bar, needing to take a shot before you even touch the dance floor.

“A shot without me? Come on we are doing another round,” Max approaches you, scaring you a bit as you set down the empty shot glass. Two shots are quickly placed in front of you.

“To the four time champion of the world,” you toast.

“To being cat parents,” he toasts back before you quickly down the shot.

“It’s rude to exclude friends from the round,” Charles cuts in. His slightly unbuttoned top shows a daring amount of skin and for once his pants have a normal fit. You head spins and you aren’t sure if it’s from the alcohol or Charles. You quickly look away and back at the bartender who was beaconed by Max.

“Three more,” you yell over the music.

“I don’t have a toast for this,” Max says as he picks the shot up, both of you looking to Charles.

“If the ocean was beer and I was a duck, I’d swim to the bottom and drink my way up. But the ocean isn’t beer and I’m not a duck, so let’s take these shots and get fucked up,” Charles says proudly. You take the shot before giggling at the silliness of the toast.

“Where did you learn that?” you ask, feeling the alcohol punch you.

“Don’t worry about it,” Charles smiles and you head spins again. You nod and wander to the dance floor, needing to separate yourself from him for a moment.

“Is she okay?” Max asks, watching you get lost in deep thought.

“I’m not sure. I think she’s finally had a chance to heal from the summer,” Charles pauses, unsure of how much to say. “She’s had a crush on Arthur for years, then he started dating his girlfriend, and she met her ex soon after. She’s finally returned to a healed state and now something is off again,” Charles tells Max a bit of what he’s observed from you. Max looks at how Charles is watching you, a mix of concern and admiration.

“She deserves to let loose,” Max says before going to meet other guests. Charles orders two more drinks, taking one to you.

“For me?” you gasp, eagerly taking a cup from his hands.

“Of course,” Charles notices how your navy dress clings to your body, dangerously revealing.

“Let’s dance,” your words slur as you grab onto Charles’ hand.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” Charles starts, feeling like he should draw a boundary before things get messy.

“Please, Charlie,” you pout, it’s enough for Charles to give in. Your dancing remains relatively PG, that is until Carlos delivers two more drinks. Turns out that what Charles assumed was you texting Arthur, was you asking Carlos to be your delivery man. Halfway through your drink, you body drifts closer to Charles. There is a look in your eyes, one that used to be reserved for Arthur, one that was never given to Achileas.

“Y/n,” he says softly, trying to see if this is really what you want to be doing. If you told the Charles from a year ago that this was happening, he wouldn’t believe you. You brush against him, body swaying to the beat. Charles wraps an arm around you, done fighting it.

Lost in an alcohol haze, time seems nonexistent as the lights flash around you. Your drinks are long finished, taken away by a bouncer a few songs ago. There’s something natural about it, but it makes you feel guilty. You always assumed you and Arthur were meant to be, you never even thought of Charles in anyway but Arthur’s older brother. When did it change?

You look up to find Charles looking back at you. Your lips are slightly parted as your mind scrambles to find the words, the music spinning you further. Charles takes a risk, pulling you slightly closer. Your head tilts up slightly and he takes the opportunity to lean down and kiss you. Your body seems to freeze and melt at the same time, giving in to what’s happening. It’s everything Charles has waited for and more. The years of waiting were worth every moment.

“Charles,” your voice sounds like a whisper as your lips part, a desperation in his name.

“Just say no and I won’t kiss you again,” his voice is low in your ear, but you can’t find it in you to say no. Your hands travel up to his neck, pulling him back to you. Something clicks, everything in the past few months has worked towards this moment. He was there for you at your lowest, and Charles helped you be yourself again.

“I’m going to get us another round,” Charles says against your lips, leaving you in a daze.

“Y/n,” a voice says from behind you, catching your attention.

“Back already, Cha- what are you doing here?” your mood is immediately soured.

“Celebrating, just like you. I was invited,” the greek man hasn’t changed since he made you leave.

“Were you? How do you know Max?” you are skeptical, rightfully so. His only connection to Formula One was you.

“My friend works with the team. I thought I wasn’t supposed to worry about him,” Achileas nods his head back to the bar, causing your cheeks to flush at the thought of the older Monegasque.

“I thought you actually liked me. It seems we were both wrong,” you shake your head slightly, clearing Charles from your mind. Any drunkenness feels like it’s been washed away with a sharp splash of cold water.

“Come on, don’t be like that. You know you miss me,” he steps closer, trapping you in the crowd of strangers. Your eyes dart around the dance floor, looking for Carlos or Max, anyone who you know really.

“I don’t. You never even asked about our cat. Why would you care about me?” your eyes narrow, trying to mask your nerves with a false bravado.

“I know you and your body so well. Come back with me to my hotel and let me remind you,” he steps closer, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath. You freeze, not wanting to cause a scene but needing to escape.

“That fucker, I told him to stay away from her,” Max growls, noticing before Charles does since he is chatting with the bartender.

“Who?”

“Y/n’s ex, that greek guy,” Max makes a move to confront him, but Charles is already pushing towards you. Max hands back, waiting for the drinks. Who would he be to let alcohol go to waster if Charles has it handled.

“Back away from her before I make you,” Charles inserts himself between the two of you, shielding you behind him.

“What is your problem? You just had to get with her as soon as we took a break?” Achileas’ words only make you and Charles more mad.

“I respected your relationship the whole time, and when you broke her heart I helped her fix it. You have no right to be here and to make Y/n uncomfortable,” Charles says, knowing that you are one comment away from snapping.

“So you jumped on the opportunity to get with her? Just so you know, she really likes it when you-“

“I am an adult and can make my own choices. Charles has been a good friend for years and showed me his true colors since I returned to Monaco. You showed me your true colors when you dropped me like I was nothing and now you think you can waltz back in,” you step around Charles, who gently pulls you back into his chest before you get physical. Max approaches, accompanied by a bouncer.

“I warned you to stay away. It’s been fun watching you absolutely fail, but I think it’s time you leave. I don’t even know you,” Max lets the bouncer grab Achileas, the three of you watch as he is thrown out onto the street. “Good riddance,” Max huffs, handing you the second drink. It’s a miracle that no one else around you was paying attention.

“Thank you,” you look at max who looks both concerned and angry.

“What an asshole,” Charles shakes his head, free arm lightly holding you against him.

“I thought princes were supposed to be white knights,” Max says amused at his own thought.

“He’s not a real prince anyway,” your laugh is bitter, annoyed that you wasted your time on a pretty smile who wanted free devotion without returning it.

“I am though,” Charles smiles proudly.

“Sure you are. Prince of Monaco and King of Monza,” Max does his best interpretation of F1 commentary and their nicknames for the Monegasque. You feel the exhaustion of the night and its excitement hit you like a ton of bricks.

“I think I’m going to head out, the Ferrari flight leaves early tomorrow and I don’t think I’m in much of a celebration mood anymore. Congrats again, Max,” you step out of Charles’ embrace to give a quick hug to the Dutchman.

“I’ll go with you, just in case he’s waiting,” Charles says quickly, knowing he will just be worried if he lets you go alone. Arthur would kill him too. Arthur. That’s a discussion the two of you need to have.

“Thank you for being here. There is a seat on my jet for you if you oversleep or don’t sleep at all,” Max winks, leaving you and Charles.

“Want to order room service? I think we have some things to talk about,” Charles asks, guiding you towards his hotel.

“I could eat,” you nod.

As soon as you sit on his bed, another wave of exhaustion hits you. Charles digs through his suitcase, searching for something.

“Here, I doubt you want to stay in that dress,” Charles tries not to think about taking the dress off of you as he hands you a shirt and basketball shorts.

“Thanks,” you disappear into the bathroom to change and remove the bit of makeup you had time to do.

“What do you want to order?”

“We need to walk about what this is,” you answer, food pushed to the back of your mind as you sit on the bed. Charles sets the menu down, leaning against the headboard on top of the crisp white sheets. The city is visible outside the windows, but the curtains are drawn to block out the lights.

“I don’t want to force you into anything. I’ve liked you for a long time and that won’t change,” Charles states plainly, laying it out there.

“I want to take it slow. The last time I jumped into something it didn’t end well. As evidenced by tonight,” you pause, mulling over your next words. “What do we tell Arthur?” you frown, thinking of your best friend as Charles pulls you close.

“The truth. Something sparked tonight and we are taking it slow. If we hide it he may never forgive us.”

“You know, I always thought I would end up with Arthur,” you chuckle.

“Everyone did. I am glad that has changed now, I hated the thought of you two together and the way you used to look at him. I always wanted you to look at me that way, and you did tonight,” Charles says, his head dipping lower as he speaks, wanting to capture your lips in a kiss.

When he pulls away to turn off the bedside lamp, you get cozy in bed, quickly falling asleep. Charles doesn’t dare disturb you, instead he plugs your phone into a spare charger and texts Emilia to coordinate picking up your luggage in the morning before going to sleep as well.

You wake up to the early morning sun streaming through the window, panic coursing through you as you realize it isn’t your hotel room. You barely register that Charles is beside you as you look around for your phone. You do a double take once it registers in your mind, bits and pieces of the night before coming back to you.

“Morning,” Charles groans slightly, reaching out to pull you in for a cuddle.

“I missed the flight, how am I going to get my things,” you panic, not understanding how Charles is being so calm about it.

“I picked it up this morning, you are flying with Max and I to Qatar,” Charles murmurs sleepily into your shoulder, messy brown hair falling onto your skin.

“I’m so confused,” you settle a bit, letting yourself relax into the bed and Charles’ arms again. “Oh my god, we didn’t?”

“No, you were asleep quickly and I wouldn’t do that when drunk,” Charles says softly, just wanting to go back to sleep. He pulls you closer, like he’s been waiting his whole life to wake up next to you, savoring the moment.

“Thanks,” you whisper, exhaustion hitting you again.

Charles doesn’t reply, gently nuzzling against your neck as his breathing evens out. You take it as a sign and close your eyes.

You wake up a couple hours later to Charles’ alarm going off. You turn your body to face him, blinking the sleep from your eyes.

“Good morning,” you whisper, voice slightly raspy. Charles hums, wrapping an arm around you after turning off the alarm.

“Did you sleep well?” Charles asks eventually.

“It’s much better than the hotel rooms I normally stay in with the team,” you reply, not mentioning the added bonus of sleeping next to him.

“I could get used to sleeping beside you, waking up to this every morning,” the room falls into a comfortable silence, just the sound of your breathing filling the space before you decide to address the elephant in the room.

“When are we telling Arthur?” you ask, massing to mentally prepare yourself.

“He will probably call me in an hour. We should tell him then, but we should also talk about last night,” Charles sits up a little.

“I don’t regret any of it. I feel like I stumbled into the opportunity, but it feels right,” you reply quickly, not wanting to leave room for any doubts.

“I’m glad, because I’ve liked you for a long time,” your heart flutters at his smile. You feel like a school girl who will blush at the slightest glance your way.

“I, um, need to shower,” you quickly disappear to the bathroom with your suitcase.

“Fuck,” Charles says under his breath, resting his head on the headboard. There’s no way he fucked it up already. With the water running softly in the background, he orders breakfast to be delivered.

You step out of the bathroom twenty minutes later wearing an oversized shirt you stole from Charles a couple races ago and shorts. Charles has his back you to you, messing with a tray.

“Cherie, breakfast is here,” Charles gently calls out, not realizing you are behind him.

“What did you get?” you peek around him, looking at the modest spread. Some breakfast pastries and two mugs of coffee are resting on the desk. Charles jumps slightly, not expecting you so quickly.

“Your hair is soaked,” Charles laughs as the ends tickles his neck, dampening the collar of his cotton shirt.

“I wonder why,” you tease, tentatively pressing a kiss to his cheek as you reach around him, taking a cup of coffee. Charles turns toward you, pulling you closer for a proper kiss.

Your phone buzzes on the table beside the bed, making you pull away. You carefully rush to grab it, coffee splashing on to your hand a bit despite your efforts.

“It’s Arthur,” you turn to Charles, setting down the coffee before pulling your phone off the charger. Sitting on the plush white bed, you swipe, accepting the video call.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be at the airport,” Arthur asks, his phone shaking as he finds a spot to sit down.

“I am flying Air Max,” you smile, leaning against the headboard. You catch Charles trying to silently stand up from the table and walk towards the bathroom so you could have privacy.

“Fuck,” Charles whisper-yells, accidentally kicking the table leg.

“Is that Charles?” Charles’ eyes widen as he stares at your phone.

“Yeah, I crashed here after Max’s party. Some stuff went down and I didn’t want to be alone,” you want to trauma dump, but now isn’t the right time. Charles sits beside you out of the frame, gently rubbing circles into your leg.

“What happened?” You sneak a look at Charles, silently asking for confirmation that he was ok with you telling Arthur everything.

“I was getting closer with Charles, who says hello by the way,” Charles pinches your thigh, making you try not to smack his hand away. “We, um, kissed, then out of no where Achileas showed up. I had it handled but Max and Charles helped put him in his place,” You power through the mental blocks that tell you that Arthur doesn’t need to know everything. He will find out eventually, why lie now?

“I saw a video and thought it was you two, thank you for being honest,” Arther swallows any bit of hurt. He has a girlfriend, why is he borderline jealous of his brother. Years ago you told a friend that if you couldn’t have Arthur, you wouldn’t date a Leclerc at all. Arthur doesn’t know what made it change or why he found comfort in it.

“You aren’t mad?” Charles appears in the camera frame, looking happier and more relaxed than normal.

“No, of course not. If you guys are happy, then I am too,” Arthur isn’t looking at the screen anymore. “I always knew you’d be a Leclerc,” Arthur watches your smile widen, your head tilted toward Charles almost resting on his shoulder.

“We are taking things slow, so don’t get ahead of yourself,” your light laugh is music to both boys ears. Arthur’s stomach twists as he plasters a fake smile.

“Well, I need to go get groceries. I’ll talk to both of you after your flight. Bye,” Arthur quickly hangs up. You set your phone down on the bed, breathing a sigh of relief at how well the call went.

“So can I officially call you mine?” Charles asks, needing to put a label on it even if you are taking it slow in other areas of the relationship.

“I usually make a guy take me on a date first, but I think I’ll make an exception,”

“Good,”

“Even if it’s for a guy who named his dog after my cat.”

[himbodruid]

Taking a break from Sylus fics to give yall some Zayne!

Zayne x Reader

Intended for 18+ readers. MINORS DNI.

Desperate -:- clothed sex -:- angst -:- possessive Zayne (kinda) -:- Zayne loses control (but not of his evol)

Desperation in Yearning

There was a certain excitement that came with danger, an addictive rush of adrenaline. Maybe that was why you kept throwing yourself into missions that could end in your death. Or maybe it was some sort of misguided sense of survivor’s guilt, seeing as you’d been quite literally throwing yourself into your work for the last 14 years. Since the explosion. Since your world came raining down in a rain of ash and embers.

Your bags were almost packed, even though the shuttle wasn’t leaving for another several days. Captain Jenna had given you and the rest of the deployment team a few days off in order to prepare for the arduous journey, but you felt unsettled. You needed to move. To do something other than hurry up and wait.

Cooking was a nice way to distract yourself, even if you weren’t very good at it. What you made was edible at least, if not very creative.

A hurried knock on your door returned you to reality on that first night, and you looked up with brows drawn down. You weren’t expecting any visitors, and the stirfry you’d been disassociating over was almost done (note: probably burnt actually). Shaking your head, you removed the pan from the heat and killed the stove so you wouldn’t start a fire in your distraction.

Zayne was there on the other side of the door. He was out of breath, as if he’d run straight from Akso Hospital. He also looked…angry, and you ushered him inside.

“Doctor Zayne? What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

He took a moment to compose himself. It was almost disturbing to see the usually unflappable Doctor Zayne in such a state, and you feared the worst.

“When were you going to tell me,” he demanded. His usually even voice held the slightest of tremors, and you didn’t understand why. His eyes held an intensity to them that made you look anywhere but his face.

“What do you mean? Tell you about what?” He sat heavily in a stool at your breakfast bar and you put a hand on his shoulder. He stiffened under your touch.

“When were you going to tell me that you’re leaving?”

“Oh. That.” You still didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to him. It was just like any other away mission before. You always texted him when you were heading out and he wished you a safe return. And then when you returned, the two of you would go out to dinner together. You always celebrated your wins with him, mourned the losses with him.

“Were you just going to send me some off-hand text again? Letting me know you’d be leaving and then leave me in radio silence for weeks on end? Leave me wondering if everything was going okay, if you were safe- alive, even?”

He stood and punctuated his words by crowding you against the counter. His hazel eyes held a predatory glint to them, a look you were so unused to in his regularly smooth expression. He wasn’t one to wear his emotions easily, and you always struggled to read him. Even now, when he had you pinned at your counter, you couldn’t figure out what he was so upset over.

“Doctor Zayne, it’s fine. I do stuff like this all the time, it’s part of my job.”

His hand slammed down on the counter, making you jump. “Purposefully throwing yourself in harm’s way is not part of the job, not when you constantly do it to the point of self-destruction!”

You stared up at him, eyes wide in wonder. His face was flush and you thought you could read despair in his expression. This was a man that was always calm, cool, and collected, and yet here he was losing his temper at you.

“I…didn’t think of it that way. I’m sorry,” you say to him, trying to appease him so he would relax. But your words only seemed to fuel his frustration even more.

“That’s the problem. You never seem to think,” he whispered, the tremble in his voice more prominent now.

“Zayne,” you say, dropping his title in favour of your friendship. “What’s all this about? I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this. Please, help me understand.”

He blew out a shaky breath and let his head drop to your shoulder. You froze. It’s not that you didn’t see Zayne as a man, it’s that you always thought he never saw you as a woman. You thought maybe he only ever saw you as a trouble-making younger sibling, seeing as you had been friends with him since childhood. But here he was, face buried in your neck while he struggled to maintain his composure.

“I’m tired of watching the woman I love run head-long into danger,” he said quietly. “And not knowing if you’re safe is a special kind of torture I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

You felt your heart shudder at his admission. Oh how you’ve been so stupid, so blind to his true feelings. The only credit you could give yourself is that Zayne wasn’t the best at portraying what he felt, and you were even worse at picking up social cues.

Your mind dug through all of your memories with him. How he would always seem to hug you a little longer than necessary when you came home. How he would always use one excuse or another to call and check up on you. How his demeanor went from cold and distant to warm and welcoming as time passed. The clues were there all along, you just never picked up on them. Or you assumed they were just a natural progression of friendship.

“Zayne, I-“ you didn’t know what to say. How to finish that sentence. You felt like you were in shock and you didn’t know what to do. He lifted his head from your shoulder slowly, bringing those damnably beautiful eyes up to bore into your very soul.

“I hate not knowing if you’ll survive the next mission that takes you away from me. I hate not being able to clear my schedule fast enough to go alongside you as a medic. And I hate the very idea of losing you to your own stubbornness.”

With that, he leaned forward and his lips captured yours. It was hesitant at first, testing, but the last remnants of his control snapped when you returned the kiss in equal measure. He coaxed your mouth open with ease and plunged his tongue in to tangle with yours. He poured all his desperation into you in that single point of contact, his hand coming up to grasp the back of your head to hold you in place.

When he finally broke away to let you have some air, his face was flush with all that was left unsaid. His eyes pleaded with you, his breath mingled with yours. He searched you for the same kind of yearning he bore to you. And when your gaze flicked to his mouth and back to his eyes with a soft sigh, he knew he had his answer.

He hauled you up against him, holding you as close as he possibly could as if that act alone could prevent you from leaving him. As if that alone would keep you by his side and out of danger forever. But it was that threat of danger that made desperation all the more prominent, all the more sweeter.

Zayne carried you to your bedroom without hesitation and without trouble, as though you weighed nothing more than the pen he carried in his lab coat every day at work. Your legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his broad shoulders on instinct, hiking up the skirt you wore and exposing yourself to his chill touch. He plopped down on the corner of your mattress with you straddling his lap, not even taking a moment to break the kiss. You rocked your hips against him, lost to his every touch that drove you deeper into a needy mess.

You hated admitting it, but you knew that this is what you’ve been craving for so long. The realization that you were waiting for him to make a move so that your passion wouldn’t scare the normally reserved doctor away. Zayne was letting go of all those reservations and it was the single most attractive thing you ever experienced.

He devoured you. Touched you. The noises he made shot right to your core and your own noises rose to respond to him. The chill of his hands sent shivers dancing through you. You could feel the length of him hardening beneath you, responding resolutely to the grind of your core against him. One of his large hands found your thigh, smoothing along your skin until he was at your hip and his thumb ran along the edge of your underwear. You were subconsciously glad you wore lace, but it didn’t really matter when you were lost to him. And, gods, the cold metal of his watch pressing into your hot skin did something unspeakable to you.

The pad of his thumb pressed against your clit, making lazy circles as his tongue continued to battle with yours. You couldn’t stop the moan you released into his mouth, but the noise only seemed to goad him further. He absorbed the sounds you made and became drunk off you.

And then you were suddenly pinned underneath him. One hand held your wrists above your head while those elegant fingers of the other dipped into your slicked folds. When he found you wet and wanting, he groaned into your neck. He curled those fingers inside you, eliciting a gasp as he put pressure in the perfect place. You bucked your hips against his hand, chasing the release he was so graciously gifting you.

And when you fell over the edge, you breathed his name into the air like a chanting prayer. Your body arched into him involuntarily and your hands grasped at whatever they could while still restrained.

But Zayne wasn’t done with you. He was far from it.

He removed his fingers from you, bringing them up to inspect the result of your climax still slicked between them. And then he looked you in the eye, muttering ‘beautiful’ before he stuck those fingers in his mouth and savored the taste of you with a moan. And something about that damn watch on his wrist while he did it.

And, fuck, he still wasn’t done torturing you.

The buckle of his belt was loosened and his cock freed from his pants with hardly an effort. He did it all with one hand while still pinning your wrists together above your head. You wanted so badly to touch him, but all you could do was wrap your legs around his hips as his narrow hips nestled between your thighs. And then your underwear was brushed aside and his cock slicked against your folds, a gentle, testing nudge at first. Then pushing further at your moaned pleas.

You all but begged him to fuck you roughly like you wanted, and still he took the time to make sure your petite body could accommodate his size without hurting you. And, oh how he filled you. It was more than you could have ever dreamed, and still he remained infuriatingly still inside you while his mouth worked at yours with promises of what was to come.

You flexed your walls on him in silent revenge, and he hissed a moan into your mouth with an involuntary forward jerk of his hips. And that’s all it took for the dam to break on his control.

Before you knew it, he was slamming into you with reckless abandon, so hard you swore you could feel yourself being moved across your bed. His hand finally released yours and all you could do was cling to him while he basically folded you in half, trying to somehow get even deeper than he already was. His grunts, moans, whimpers were diffused by him burying his face in your neck. You chanted his name into the open air, punctuating it by kisses and bites against whatever skin of his neck and chest you could access.

He hooked his arms underneath your knees, giving himself the most access he could while he pistoned in and out of you like a madman. Every thrust slammed against that sweet spot in your core and you came undone around him more times than you could count before he’d even gotten close to his end. Each climax that swept through you was more intense than the last until you were all but screaming his name.

“So damn…good,” he grunted, his pace increasing as his own orgasm finally neared. His sounds were no longer muffled by your neck or mouth. He let his own pleasured cries rise with yours as he continued making a mess of the both of you. His words became incoherent as he lost himself to the rapture.

Zayne slammed so, so impossibly deep into you with a sound that came out like a mix between a shout and a moan. His climax steamrolled through him so thoroughly that all he could do was jerk his hips while trembling in your hold. Your walls quivered around his cock once more, milking him as he flooded you with his cum.

Zayne collapsed atop you, a sweating panting mess. You realized that the both of you were still fully clothed, so caught up in your frenzied coupling that you didn’t even take time to undress. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed at the madness that’d taken over the both of you. Especially when he was still shifting his hips in micro-thrusts that made you realize that he was still hard inside you.

Everything about this encounter sent a thrill through you, and it was something you would never forget. Though, your mind went blank when he suddenly rode you through overstimulation only to jolt you both through an unexpected mutual orgasm. His cock twitched and pulsed inside you as another deluge of cum filled you. And your body was all too eager to take him in. If it weren’t the sensations of his cock inside you, you were almost certain the sounds he was making would have sent you over the edge again. Or even the contrast of his cold hands on your heated skin.

It felt all too soon, but he pulled from you with a long moan. He kissed you and put his forehead against yours in an action so tender that it nearly brought tears to your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured to you with an embarrassed smile. “That’s not exactly how I imagined that would go.”

“Yeah?” You chuckled. “How was it supposed to go?”

“Slow and sweet. Definitely not horny and wild while clothed,” he grumbled. You couldn't help but look down and grinned when you saw the mess the both of you had made against his nice black trousers.

“Why not show me how it was meant to be?” You ventured. That soft smile of his played across his face as he leaned in and kissed you.

He proceeded to demonstrate what his first idea had been. Soft, slow, and sweet, bringing the both of you to climax over and over. He worshipped your body in a multitude of ways and you were grateful, then, for the days off that Jenna had given you. Because, aside from going home for a change of clothes and picking up some take out, Zayne hardly left your bed until it was time for you to go.

He walked you to the shuttle while trying to stoically hide the devastation in his eyes. Other hunters were already boarding the vehicle, but you turned to face him while your luggage was loaded, drawing him into a tight hug.

“I promise to be more mindful of missions in the future,” you say to him. You lean up in his embrace and kiss him in full view of anyone that cared to look. You knew there would be relentless teasing from Tara, but you didn’t care.

“After all, I have someone at home to look forward to now.”

[not-the-coffee-machine4]

CALLING ALL QUEEN FANS: PROJECT

okay idk what just came over me but I was thinking about how many panels were made for Freddie for the AIDS Memorial Quilt and then I realized Joe Fanelli probably doesn’t have one

so I looked up the submission process and it is remarkably easy so godammit I’m making one and sending one in

and then I figured some people might want to be a part of this. Aside from sending the package, it doesn’t cost anything to submit so I’m not out here asking for donations. But you have to include a letter with it about the person and aside from a short bio/backstory, I thought it would be nice if people wanted to comment nice things to put at the end OR if anyone has ideas as to what to put on the panel (aside from his name) I will gladly take ideas (please, I am starting from a blank slate). Most things I think I’ll make out of fabric but I can also get away with fabric paint and sequins and stuff so pls do give object or design suggestions

Whoever writes something or gives a suggestion I’ll include as a participant at the end of the letter. If you comment something, please also indicate your preferred name or if you want to be Anonymous (state/country would be cool too!). Any ideas with no name indication, I’ll put you down as your user so if your Tumblr username is something you’d rather not have archived in the AIDS Memorial, do consider one of the other two options 😅

I’m doing this with or without other’s participation, I just thought the three Garden Lodge guys have never really gotten enough appreciation and it would be kind of a sweet somewhat community project. Maybe it’s the spirit of Christmas taking over me or something. So please do comment with whatever!

I’ll leave this up for at LEAST a week before I start buying supplies so if you’re seeing this days after it was posted don’t hesitate to still send something! And I’ll be sure to take picture proof when it’s done haha

Reblog for a bigger audience!! Happy holidays :)

[rowie264]

Why Timebomb shouldn't exist in s2 (part 1 - Ekko)

Let's start by analyzing his character. Don't you think there's something wrong here, to put it mildly? Of course, I'm laughing at jokes about the fact that you can't call any character absolutely good in Arcane except for Ekko, but… Don't you think this is a problem? Ekko has no flaws at all. If he didn't have difficulties as the story progressed (and there aren't many), he would literally be Mary Sue.

And okay, even though I find characters without flaws completely unrealistic and boring, it's possible to work with this. Let Ekko be a good guy. Just give him a good conflict and it will be enough to make him interesting to watch.

But there are problems here too. What conflicts does Ekko have?

Chembarons. It's clear with Silco, he died in s1, and this conflict is half gone. But only half, because other chembarons want to take his place. The development of this topic could serve as a good disclosure of Ekko's character. His confrontation with shimmer and Silco in the hope of changing Zaun for the better with his defeat will endow him with flaw - naivety (this is just speculation, because we don't know if Ekko knew that eliminating Silco wouldn't have changed anything - we can only see that how he sighs at this information in s2 ep2). But making him naive is good, because it would give him an opportunity for growth and an additional character arc, because the question arises - what will he do? Fight against the "bad guys" as before or change his approach? Will he get his hands dirty or will he find a "better way"? Perhaps he will try to unite Zaun? Maybe he'll become a chembaron himself, but as a good chembaron? Well, we won't find out, because thanks to Caitlyn for doing all the dirty work - this conflict disappeared on its own.

The Tree. Ekko's personal arc in the s2, which is just drained down the toilet. And no "he ended up in another timeline and then there was a war" is not an excuse, because his entire motivation in s2 is based on this conflict. He starts his journey precisely because of the Tree, but they brushes it aside for the sake of fanservice and a more global plot. Lack of timing is not an excuse for the same reason - fanservice in another timeline is not needed for s2. Exploring Tree and firelights would give a lot of information about Ekko himself. How did he become a leader? Was there anyone who was against his leadership? What personal connections does he have with firelights (friends, mentors, etc)? One such small flashback could reveal his character much more than the entire ep7.

Piltover. Weeeeell, since we have been ignoring the topic of Piltover oppressing Zaun for decades, this conflict disappears by itself. We have more important things to do, like fighting an army of creepy robots and Arcane Jesus.

Jinx. Fucked up on all fronts. Cheap fanservice with alternative Powder instead of revealing his complicated relationship with our Powder/Jinx. I'll explain more later.

In total, we have: Ekko, a character who has not been fully revealed, who does not have depth like other characters (shown on the screen, rather than having to figure it out by ourselves) and whose conflicts either resolve themselves or are forgotten. It was more important for the creators to devote time to the fanservice than to reveal Ekko as an individual and close his personal arcs. Moving to another timeline cuts off the possibility of revealing his relationship with other characters besides Heimerdinger (yes, with Jinx too, but more on that later). But there's also a problem with Heimerdinger, because well, he's so small and fluffy and has a cool mustache, and that's probably why Ekko completely ignores the fact that Heimer was a councilor to the city who had been oppressing Zaun for decades (seriously, Ekko doesn't bring up this topic and has no complaints about Heimer, because creators deliberately omitted this conflict, forgetting that it is illogical for the character as Ekko).

Part 2 - Jinx Part 3 - Relationship

[palskippah]

A-in Goldenloin: This is my beautiful wife, Atenea. And this is our kinda ugly son, Ambrosius ✨✨

Hi! Here's some ideas for the headcanons I've got about Ambrosius' parents!

Under the cut is written stuff and a couple more of drawings :]

-(Btw, A-in jokes about Ambrosius being ugly as hell as a baby, but he's just bald. The rest of him is very pretty in her opinion 😭)

-Atenea Goldenlight was obviously famous from being a Gloreth's Descendant. She's tall, a knight, has long blond hair that flows with wind that comes from nowhere, and also has a twin brother (Amadeus), who's not a knight but has equally nice, physics-defying hair and tallness and Gloreth-ness (they're the Goldenlight Twins).

>Btw sort of based their design on this concept art of Ambrosius from early Nimona development by sangjunart.

-A-in Moonloin was the daughter of someone important in business idk, and Atenea's father presented her to his son Amadeus in hopes of them clicking, and they just got along but A-in really liked his sister, so she started pursuing Atenea instead (Amadeus couldn't have cared less, since he wasn't interested in any romantic relationship to begin with and it's happy for both his sister and his new friend).

BRO LIKE THAT AUDIO OF this thingy, it's in Spanish and I don't know if it's available in English but it goes like this:

A-in: Do you like chicken? Amadeus: No. A-in: And curry? Amadeus: Neither. A-in: Then you won't like what I did. Amadeus: Chicken and curry? A-in: No, I banged your sister.

-Anyways when they marry and have to sign down their family name, both are like, hey, you know what would be really funny? And so they're the Goldenloins instead of the Moonlights.

>Alternatively, Gloreth's descendants' family names always start with Golden, nevermind if the other option was nicer, just to keep the majestic bit of their legacy (or because Gloreth's last name started with Golden-), but that's sadder and I don't like it, even if it makes more sense.

>Also if that were the case then Ambrosius would've liked to go against the family tradition and do Boldloin instead of Goldenheart with Ballister but Goldenheart is just prettier, and Ballister really wanted to share Ambrosius' last name too, and not for them both to just be Boldheart (bc it's cool to mesh together their names to make their family idk).

-The Goldenloins start gaining popularity, and Amadeus uses that as his chance to finally get out of the spotlight and goes:

>You're on your own now, sister (he's fed up of being part of the Goldenlight Twins thing).

-Neither woman had really been in an urge to have children, despite Atenea and her twin bro growing up with the 'Gloreth's legacy' stuff (meaning that they must continue it when they became adults). Atenea liked the life she led, and A-in enjoyed only worrying about work (bit of a workaholic) and her wifey (and family).

>But Atenea's father (Artemas) was insisting, since his daughter had already been married for years, that they gave them at least one descendant, since his son didn't seem to even have the intention of marrying or dating anyone that Artemas sent his way.

>And A-in's parents also were like, c'mon, when the kid? >:c and A-in was like, I'm just 27, you want me to have a teenage pregnancy? >:(

>Anyways, couple of years later they're convinced, and Atenea asks her bro if he's willing to be their sperm donor, and he's like YES WOO because he won't have to have any kids himself if his sister already gives their family a descendant.

>When he's told that A-in is pregnant he's very happy for them (but especially himself), very supportive and stuff.

-About names, since nearly every member in Atenea's family got a name starting with A, during a family dinner Amadeus says, wouldn't it be funny if you named your child with A too? since A-in got the A too.

>And then:

Atenea: We won't name them over such a silly thing, c'mon >:( A-in: Actually, I like the idea :) Atenea (folding immediately): Okay❤️yay❤️

>(Ambrosius' let's name our baby something with C so we're A, B and C, came from that bit of his family)

>And then they got the nicely meaningful name Ambrosia when they thought they were having a girl, then when the baby came out being a boy they were like, huh, Ambrosius it is then, I guess :/

-Ambrosius bald baby supremacy, also I like the idea of the dying his hair and all that that implies, of course, but also the idea of him just being born with the blond hair. In here it was more golden when he was a baby and started getting lighter with the years bc I fucked up and painted his hair too light already but I don't really want to change his color palette 😭

-Ambrosius often confused Atenea and Amadeus since they're twins, either was mama for a long time, until it finally settled in his brain that the shorter-haired mama was Uncle Amadeus.

>Amadeus cut his hair shorter just to say, short=Uncle and long=Mama, and then he ended up liking the hairstyle, so he kept it that way for a long time.

>Also they're fraternal twins but look nearly identical anyways shdjfhs for plot reasons

-Ambrosius is by no means over protected, by his parents at least, because the workers in their home definitely are overly careful with the baby, and then the toddler, and then the child, and so-on, because no one wants to find out what would happen if the youngest Gloreth Descendant got hurt.

>Both A-in and Atenea are overly chill about their son, knowing that the workers in their house do their best to take good care of him, but their parents are less forgiving and stuff, especially Artemas, with the whole Gloreth Descendant thing.

>Baby Ambrosius could be crawling and accidentally fall on his face, and both A-in and Atenea would burst out laughing, going, HAH the kid fell! while pointing at him (only if their baby is clearly not hurt), and since he sees that his mothers aren't getting scared nor worried, Ambrosius himself takes his falls with humor.

>But when he's with a servant, they'd definitely go D: and in turn scaring him and making him cry.

-Both A-in and Atenea are usually too busy, but they still try to make some time for Ambrosius or bring their work home so they can at least be near their baby. And sometimes they bring their baby to work because why not.

>Like there's Sir Goldenloin carrying in her arm a very small, blond and nearly bald baby, while talking with her team, or doing a photoshoot and there's Ambrosius somewhere being cooed at by the working team.

>Or there's Mrs. Goldenloin with a baby carrier on her and her baby's head resting on her chest as he sleeps, or shooshing people in the office when they're being too loud. Also, there's Ambrosius too being cooed at by her subordinates during lunch breaks.

-When Ambrosius' older, both of his moms get more responsibilities and have even less time, so now he doesn't get to see them much, until is night, and sometimes he's already asleep when they get home.

>But weekends are totally for him, so he's always looking forward to them.

>Then he enters the academy to be a knight and he sees them only on breaks and special occasions, and he misses them very much, especially because his classmates seem to not like him much, for whatever reason that he doesn't understand (Gloreth Descendant reasons), but then he gets closer to the new kid (Ballister) and since no one else seems to like Ballister either, they get along well.

>That thing is from a post I saw that explained it well but I cannot find it pipipi when I do, I'll link it here.

I've got a few more headcanons with Ambrosius being older and I want to make some drawings for it but I already lost interest in the matter for the time being sjdfkj so I'll leave it here!

(also wanna acknowledge the languages in the family and traditions and so many stuff but I've got no energy for that sdjfks like the tradition of korean babies choosing an object in front of them, like I imagine the Gloreth-side family hoping very very hard he crawls towards the tiny sword instead of the book or paint brush or the other stuff laid there djfkd I really gotta research how the tradition actually works bc I'm naming random objects sorry 😭) (In the other post I plan to make I'll talk about that pipipi)

Hopefully I'll make another post for the rest of headcanons, but that's it for now! :D

[fandomtrash-whataboutit]

My TimKon ‘Would You Fall in Love with Me Again’ Animatic

(If i could make animatics :/)

Notes: The roles of Ody and Pen aren’t perfectly assigned bc Tim’s the one who changed but Kon’s the one who was gone, don’t worry, it’ll make sense.

Kon has returned to his normal time/place/life and has been thoroughly checked for being the real, original, correct universe Kon-El. Now, at last, Tim is able to go see him, and reunite with his lost love.

Is it you? Have my prayers been answered? Is it really you standing there or am I dreaming once more?

Tim says all of this with bated breath, not delivering the wild, enthusiastic welcome Kon had been expecting. Kon can tell something is wrong, as can everyone else in the room (I imagine perhaps Superman and dick and/or bruce)

You look different. Your eyes look tired. Your frame is lighter, your smile torn. Is it really you my love?

Kon can see that Tim looks like hell and he is slowly trying to piece together what has happened (I imagine that last part is met with some surprise, as few is any people outside of yj knew of Tim and Kon’s relationship or at least how serious it was)

I am not the man you fell in love with. I am not the man you once adored. I am not your kind and gentle husband. And I am not the love you knew before Would you fall in love with me again? If you knew all I’ve done. The things I can not change, would you love me all the same?

This section focuses on Tim alone, face shrouded in shadow or just tight and anxious. Perhaps one of those cool animations of the camera moving around the central figure (note that words like husband do not have to be taken literally here, because animatic. There will be a whole section like this later)

I know that you’ve been waiting, waiting for love. …What kind of things did you do?

Kon is starting to process that something went very wrong while he was gone. He is getting scared, steps closer, and makes himself ask because he needs to know Tim is okay.

Left a trail of red on every island, as I traded friends like objects I could use. Hurt more lives than I can count on my hands, but all of that was to bring me back to you.

This part might be one of those sections that writes the lyrics on screen to alter them. The first sentence shows Tim’s time with the LoA (note that I don’t subscribe to the belief that Tim like murdered a bunch of people, even if it’s cool to think about sometimes) and say ‘traded PEOPLE like objects…’ because to be fair it was mostly the LoA and stuff that he was using, he didn’t trade friends’ literal lives the way Ody did. The second part would be a big motif of the most obvious thing, the cloning. A literal shot of just Tim, looking miserable, and in the background all around him half-transparent parts of his lab and experiments. (Still Tim below)

So tell me, would you fall in love with me again? If you knew all I’ve done. The things I can’t undo, I am not the man you knew. I know that you’ve been waiting, waiting…

This part mirrors the first chorus with my fun camera spinning thing but this time focusing on both Tim and Kon standing close to one another, both looking utterly grief stricken.

If that’s true, could you do me a favor? Just a moment of labor that would bring me some peace? See that wedding bed? Could you carry it over? Lift it high on your shoulders and take it far away from here?

This is obviously the least literal part. I imagine the camera goes to Kon for a second to indicate who is ‘speaking’ then shifts to the YJ cave. I haven’t worked out all the kinks for this but I imagine something like maybe a bed because Kon considers it the first real home he had where he was welcomed and wanted by loved ones before Superman and the Kents go involved/got their shit together, something with their initials or the Superboy and Robin symbols carved into it.

How could you say this? I had built that wedding bed with my blood and sweat. Carved it into the olive tree where we first met. A symbol of our love everlasting, do you realize what you have asked me? The only way to move it is to cut it from its roots!

This part is a lot, obv. The first sentence, a short of present Tim, horrified. Second sentence shows a quick shot of a younger Tim and Kon, Kon’s eyes lighting up with laser vision for a second only for Tim to stop him and carve it into the whatever (bed, smth) himself. The third sentence not a shot of that specific place but the round table in the cave with Tornado and the whole YJ team. ‘A symbol of your love everlasting’ shows a young Tim and Kon looking smitten, ‘do you realize what your have asked me’ hard cuts back to present Tim, finally showing some energy as he gets terribly angry. (Note: maybe a quick shot of spectators before the last sentence but maybe not). Last sentence shows that shot of young Tim and Kon looking smitten getting torn in half, revealing the shot of the whole team which also gets torn in half.

Only my husband knew that, so I guess that makes him you!

Kon needs to match Tim’s energy here as he finally sees his Rob light up the way he used to be, fiery and free.

Penelope…

Tim frozen in shock, staring at Kon

I will fall in love with you over and over again, I don’t care how, where, or when. No matter how long it’s been, you’re mine! Don’t tell me you’re not the same person, you’re always my husband and I’ve been waiting…

Kon grabs Tim’s shoulders (you know the cliche pose) getting close to him and speaking vehemently. Maybe some shots of them over the years, canon or headcanon moments of when they fell in love. Emphasize Kon’s vehemence on the ‘you’re mine’ cus im a slut for that, and maybe Kon shakes his head on ‘don’t tell me you’re not the same person’

Waiting… Penelope…

Not writing out this whole section cus I’m not copy pasting the lyrics here I’m recording them as I listen. This is a collage of them, colors and moments all around them or snapshots of their past, maybe chronologically and having at least one shot of each of them while Kon was ‘dead’

For you…

As he says this, Kon finally grabs Tim and kisses him. He sweeps him up in a massive hug off the ground as the music peaks, they hold each other desperately close (i mean draw creases on the back of their clothing type shit). I’m also debating, because I dont have much knowledge of canon alternate universities in the comics, if there would be content enough to show alternate versions of them holding each other because they fall in love in every lifetime. As the music calms, Kon gently returns them back to the ground, pulling far enough away to press their forehead together

How long has it been?

Kon asks this, still not entirely sure how long he was gone

Twenty Years

Obv its different, it dont remember the canon time Kon was gone/dead, but ideally it would be shown in month, week, day, hour format bc Tim is normal (for bonus angst do the amount of irl time he was dead cus that was prolly way longer

I love you

Need I even say anything? Holding each other close, they’re both finally smiling

[starsenha]

[10] FIRST IMPRESSIONS - progress

synopsis: riki was a big fan of your group Devilish, but when he met you for the first time, he made a very bad first impression and now you hated him. rumors started to spark saying how you hated each other and to calm the rumors, the company decided to make you two hosts a variety show together for two months. wc: 1,3k

The third episode of the variety show had been the longest filming day yet, and honestly, you couldn't take it anymore. You and Riki had spent hours interviewing Meovv, a newly debuted girl group that came to promote their first comeback. The group's members were bright and bubbly, but their energy exhausted you, as well ad the fake smile you had plastered on your face.

You sat across from them, maintaining your polite and attentive demeanor. Riki was also struggling with their energy. As soon as the director yelled, "That's a wrap," you stood, thanked the staff and the Meovv members with a small bow, and quietly slipped out of the studio. Riki noticed but decided not to say anything, choosing to stay back and what with some of the crew.

Behind the studio, you found a quiet corner surrounded by tall trees where you could feel the cool evening air. Sighing, you leaned against the wall, your head tilted back as you closed your eyes. You loved what you did, but sometimes, it took just too much energy.

About ten minutes later, you heard footsteps. Opening your eyes, you found Riki standing a few feet away, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.

"Figured I'd find you here," he said causally.

"You followed me?" you raised an eyebrow.

"Followed is a strong word. I just....guessed," he said with a sheepish grin. "You looked like you needed a break."

You turned your gaze back to the darkening sky. "It's been a long day."

He leaned against the wall next to you but was careful to give you space. "Yeah, those girls have endless energy. I don't know how they do it."

"They're probably running on adrenaline," you said, your tone soft. "They're still new. Everything's exciting for them."

Riki nodded. "True. But I don't think I've ever been that energetic, even when I debuted."

That earned a small huff of amusement from you, which surprised Riki, but he decided not to comment on it and thought it was the moment.

"Can...Can we talk for a bit?" he asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

You sighed a bit, "Sure, sunbaenim."

He winced at the formality but didn't comment on it. Instead, he took a step closer. "I just...wanted to talk. About, uh, stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, like..." he scratched the back of his neck, clearly struggling to find the right words. "Like how you probably don't like me very much."

You didn't respond immediately. "I wouldn't say that, sunbaenim. I respect you as an artist and as my senior."

"Okay, but like," Riki said, his voice almost pleading, "you definitely don't like me. And i get why. I've been...kind of a disaster." You didn't deny it, which made Riki laugh quietly. “But, uh, I think part of the reason you don’t like me goes back to that first time we met. At the music show.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly, but your tone remained neutral. "What about it?"

"You remember, right?" Riki asked, glancing at you. "It was, like, two years ago. Your group had just debuted."

You nodded slowly, your gaze turning to the dark sky. "You told me I was an 'okay' dancer." Your voice was calm, almost sounding unbothered.

He winced at your words. "Yeah. That. I...I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly, his words stumbling over each other. "I swear. I dodn't think you were just 'okay'. I thought you were amazing. I just-"

“Then why did you say it?” you interrupted, your tone sharper now. “If you thought I was amazing, why didn’t you say that?”

Riki ran a hand through his hair, his nervous energy making him shift again. “Because I was nervous! Like, really nervous. I was a fan, and I was so freaked out about meeting you that I just… messed it up. I didn’t know how to act, so I said something stupid.”

You turned to face him fully, your arms still crossed. “You were nervous?”

“Yes!” Riki said, nodding emphatically. “I mean, you were—are—this incredible dancer, and I didn’t want to sound like I was just fanboying. I wanted to look cool, but instead of being cool, I made it worse and came off as a jerk.”

You stared at him for a moment, your expression softening ever so slightly. “So, you didn’t mean it?”

“Not even a little bit,” Riki admitted. “You’re one of the most talented dancers I’ve ever seen, and I’ve thought that since day one. I just… suck at expressing myself sometimes.”

You were silent for a moment, your gaze searching his face for any sign of insincerity. When you finally spoke, your tone was quieter. “Why are you telling me this now, sunbaenim?”

“Because we’re stuck working together for seven weeks,” Riki said with a small, self-deprecating laugh. “And I don’t want you to hate me the whole time. I’d like for us to at least get along. Or, you know, tolerate each other.”

“Thank you for explaining,” You said finally, your tone softer but still measured. “I… appreciate the clarification.”

“You’re welcome,” Riki replied, grinning slightly. “Does this mean I’ve earned a little less of the death glare on set?”

You raised an eyebrow, but there was a glint of amusement in your eyes. “Don’t push your luck.”

Riki chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Noted. But, seriously, I’m glad we talked. I was starting to think you had me on some kind of blacklist.”

You tilted your head slightly, pretending to think. “I wouldn’t call it a blacklist. More like… a warning list.”

“Wow,” Riki said, clutching his chest dramatically. “And here I thought I was climbing my way into your good graces.”

“You’re at the bottom of the list,” You replied coolly, though your lips twitched as if suppressing a smile.

Riki leaned back against the wall, looking up at the sky. “You know, this reminds me of something.”

“What?” You asked, curious despite yourself.

“Well,” he began, a mischievous grin forming, “it’s like one of those rom-coms where the leads start off hating each other, but then they end up being best friends—or more.”

You stared at him, your expression deadpan. “This isn’t a rom-com, Riki-sunbae.”

“Riki,” he corrected, glancing at her hopefully. “Just Riki.”

You didn’t respond immediately, and he continued, trying to break the silence. “Besides, if this were a rom-com, I’d have some dramatic rain scene to win you over, and I left my umbrella at home.”

You blinked at him for a moment, and then, to both your surprise, you laughed. It wasn’t just a small chuckle but a genuine laugh that lit up your face for a brief moment.

Riki froze, his eyes wide as he stared at you. “Wait… did you just laugh? Like, actually laugh?”

Your laughter trailed off, and you looked almost as surprised as he did. “What? No. That wasn’t—”

“No, no, you totally laughed,” Riki said, pointing at you triumphantly. “I made Yn laugh. Someone call Dispatch. This is breaking news.”

You rolled her eyes, but the corner of your mouth twitched upward again. “Don’t let it go to your head, Riki.”

“Hey, you called me Riki. No ‘sunbaenim.’ Progress!”

You blinked, realizing your slip. “It was a momentary lapse. Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late,” Riki said, beaming. “You’ve already made my day.”

You sighed but didn’t correct yourself, your tone more teasing than annoyed. “You’re so easily pleased.”

“Only when it comes to you,” Riki replied, his tone light but sincere.

You glanced at him, your expression softening for just a moment before you pushed off the wall. “We should head back. It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Riki said, following you but unable to hide the triumphant grin on his face. “Just don’t trip on the way. I’m not catching you again today.”

You gave him a side-eye that was more amused than annoyed. “You’re really pushing it.”

“Maybe,” Riki said, walking beside you. “But I think I’m finally getting somewhere.”

previous / m.list / next

TAGLIST: @pkjay @d-dilemma @heartheejake @lunaritex @dreeki @inishij @rikirritated @whoiss4m @sleepyxxhead @aanniikkaa @right-person-wrong-time @aespaqq @starry-eyed-bimbo @nerdywitchcrown @yuniesluv @lovestruck-sky @ariluvssssss100 @rei4sunoo @wildtigerlili @jakef3ver @seungminsapuppy @kittsnewera @regalfox @rairaiblog @pairinnn

[multifandommadnessblog]

More Never learning headcanons bc I'm insane

uhm... no one asked for these but I'm throwing more of my headcanons for this au in here so they don't just sit in the doc collecting dust

--- Characters (besides the narilamb) Baxter/The Goat (he/they)

Lamb's roommate, tennis player so he got into this school with a solid 2.7 GPA but also a full ride

"Skater boi���/sufer man aesthetic… also kinda greasy" copied straight from my doc...

has a good few friends, but he's no social butterfly he just vibes with who he vibes with

Does consider Lambert his closest friend, I love it when roommate pairs actually work <3

The Bishops (but they're not bishops here duh) Leshy: same age as Lambert + Baxter, roommates with Iris (aka yellow cat) basically is just forced to live in the dorms until he can join his family in their joint apartment Heket: same age as Narinder, gender studies + art double major bc she's cool, craftsy and lowkey second in command in the apartment Kallamar: juniorish age, pre-med, volunteers at a local animal shelter on top of work, a pathetic wet man Shamura: seniorish age (or graduated, haven't decided yet), caretaker of the bishops (they pay most of the rent), doesn't have favorites (but totally does)

All of the bishops are related, but it is a complicated connection (so like... different dads maybe same mom situation??), but they all are related and have since moved away from whatever parental situation there was

Leshy is the least connected to the rest of them, as he still lives on campus (has to as a freshie)

If Shamura is still in school, it's part time so they can work, if they're graduated, they only work so they're not around much

--- Narilamb bits tehe

once Narinder starts dating Lambert he kinda jumps between staying in Lambert's room and his own room

It's basically a system so they can stay together if they want to, or they can have their own space (sometimes Lambert stays with Narinder also, if they want to give Baxter space

I imagine Lambert's love language being physical touch and quality time + Narinder's is quality time :3 - So they both spend a lot of time together once they start dating <3

One of the chapters I'm planning is where Lambert tells their friend about their (potential crush) feelings for Nari

...Lambert tells this to LESHY

...chaos ensues

--- okay spicy suggestive bits now UNDER THE CUT

Now do these two start banging it out the minute they get together? Probably not

Lamb is a freshie who just got here and lives out of state, they don't want to move super quickly

Narinder is fairly unexperienced in this realm, only having dated a small handful of people (and none super seriously)

Also, there aren't alot of opportunities for these two to be alone. Lambert lives in a shared room with Baxter and Narinder lives in an apartment with three other siblings

So you better KNOW these two learn to sneak around a little (ohoho)

I mean the first spicy oneshot I wrote has the premise that Baxter is out of town lol (will I ever publish that to the public? who knows)

[amandabe11man]

had the most insane dream about how Saw XI would go and it was so spectacularly bad that it reminded me of reading SNK's last chapter 😭 there was one cool part, but it was made pointless a couple minutes later

[quietwingsinthesky]

like. “soulless sam killed innocent people and put dean in danger to get to his goals” Regular Sam Also Does This

[sysig]

UI Special Feature! (Patreon)

[snekdood]

i mean i should probably stop saying shit just to be mean

[keeps-ache]

ggghhg i hate vehiclessssssss ghghghhghhhhh [dies dies dies forever]