#this is a little silly but i hope you like it lmao

[loolilyumm]

I really like your interpretation of 3! Would be super excited to hear more about your 8 (or any other characters) :D

YAY THANKS FOR THE ASK!!! And I am so sorry about the late reply. I literally forgot I had this drafted 😭 I actually already rambled on about 8 a couple of posts ago - If you scroll down (or look for the agent 8 tag on my acc) you’ll find it! I think so much about her I hope you enjoy…!!!!!!! I’m so happy you like my little guys :))))))

AHEM Since you said..any other characters….I DO HAVE OTHER CHARACTERS!!!!! NOW I AM GOING TO YAP ABOUT MY AGENT 4!!!

THIS IS ELLIS! I actually love drawing him so much. I will admit that I have not thought too much about his backstory BUUTTT he makes up for it in personality!

Ellis was about 16 during splatoon 1, and he moved to the city for college when he was 18. Shortly after, he was recruited to the NSS by Marie. As of splatoon 3, he is 21 years old! He mains the Slosher Deco.

He is a freakishly tall lanky dude. He’s very book smart but acts goofy and stupid and snarky and lacks common sense. He’s a bit of a flirt and Marie acts like she can’t stand him. They tease each other a lot but they genuinely care for each other a LOT! But they’d never admit it!! Ew gross!!

He feels like a bit of a disappointment to his parents because he was supposed to be going to this fancy college in the city, but ended up leaving it and becoming an agent full time. PLUS he can’t tell them that he’s a secret agent saving the world, so they just think he works at a gas station or something 😭

Hero mode was a totally new experience for him. Marie never doubted him though. Now he’s an extremely talented agent. He’s really good at coming up with strategies and is extremely intelligent on the battlefield. He’s just so goofy that everyone forgets he’s actually smart.

In the beginning, he didn’t know who the squid sisters were at ALL because he basically lived under a rock until moving, and he was like, “pff, you can’t be that big of a deal.” LMAO.

He and Marie quickly became best frenemies. They often teased each other and had a lot of good banter and really good chemistry. Ellis developed a little crush on her but never thought it would be reciprocated!

One night, Ellis was injured on a mission. He is very deliberate about his missions, always having a plan - so he rarely gets injured.

When he came back, he saw a side of Marie that he’d never seen before. She was worried for him, helping him with his injury. The two of them realized that this was serious work. Ellis could have died. It also brought Marie to a realization. She really, really cared about agent 4. There was maybe a little crush starting to form…!!!

But the two of them STILL haven’t done anything about it. It’s been 3 YEARS. They are the definition of slow burn. Just because neither of them wants to admit that they like the other.

Near the end of splatoon 2 hero mode, Ellis became an agent full time and dedicated all his time to finding Callie. And they did!!!!! It was super awesome yay!!!!!

Currently, the NSS is bigger than ever before and they even made agent 3 the captain.

Ellis is still a goofball and loves to be silly with Callie and agent 8 (Olive.) Those two are like his sisters. The New agent 3 (Margot) is a little off putting but that doesn’t bother Ellis at all. Every once in a while, he works a salmon run shift with her, and it’s crazy how good she is.

Ellis understands that 3 and 8 went through a lot down in the metro and wants to do anything he can to help them free the sanitized octolings. (This is what led to him working on the memverse with Marina!) Sometimes the agents go down to the empty remains of Kamabo to see if they can find anyone. They are usually unsuccessful but it seems to clear 8’s conscience.

I still don’t really understand side order. Um. I kind of didn’t like how it was all virtual 😭 maybe I will make it a little different just for the sake of story. Idk yet. But yea!

That’s all I have on Ellis, he’s my boy! I think he’s my favorite to draw, and his design has been the only one not to undergo any change.

And that concludes my agent yap sessions! If you guys want to know anything about them (or send them asks or something) my askbox is always open! I love answering questions :) ((even if I am a little slow ahhhh sorry!!))

But yeah!! I’ll make official character sheets and stuff sometime soon :D thanks so much for sticking around if you made it this far!! 🫶🫶

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Hi Ziku! I hope things get better for you soon, I know it's probably not a good time, so how about some silly Hcs I got from the Hcs generator!?

Pomni needs a nightlight to sleep (I found this one cute ��)

Pomni has been to prison (Does mental prison count?)

Pomni almost drank the lethal dosage of caffine once (and Caine never left coffee near her again lmao)

Pomni is unemployed (Maybe at the beginning of the plot)

Pomni can't sit in a chair properly (in my head she sits completely slouched and with her legs open, while Caine sits properly with one leg over the other like the gentleman he is)

If the sorce media was a musical, Pomni would be the one character that asks why everyone is singing (THIS IS SO CANON OMG)

Pomni tells dad jokes (It started when she started hanging out with Kaufmo lol)

Pomni sucks at saying tongue twisters (Poor thing, leave my girl alone)

Pomni is a cat person (she's a wild cat lol)

Pomni has an incredible short-term memory but an awful long-term memory (I found this one interesting)

Pomni is very willing to eat inedible things (especially before the initial stages of Enlightenment)

Pomni sleeps in until noon (even later if there is a really difficult BOSS)

I hope this made you smile a little, maybe I'll do it with the rest of the gang later ( ノ・・)ノ

I like these. so silly omg

the unemployed one is so funny because erm. she was literally job hunting when the origin story begins, I'll tell you that much LMFAO

I also like to think that she tells dad jokes but immediately regrets it as soon as it leaves her mouth and will spend the whole afternoon locked up in her room going "why tf did I say that"

But Caine has no shame. he will throw dad jokes around like it's nothing and he and Kaufmo would be a power duo

tongue twisters? definitely. Her sharp teeth does NOT help her case either

the inedible thing would only be possible before the first stage because the first stage would allow her to taste stuff and feel textures so ermmmm.....

Thank you sm for all this I was smiling ear to ear reading all these

[xgardensinspace]

Ahhhh, @k-sci-janitor , I did the thing xP

Here is the silly companion piece! :b

Merry "Double Event" Day, haha. To celebrate, I finished the Newton piece just in time! And I'll give him to you now that I still find him very adorable and before I start hating my art shenanigans xD He received all the Bavarian chocolate from Hermann that you suggested ;) I quite loved the idea, hehe. My guy probably sent a large box along with the letters :b

Also also! I'd like to think that Hermann's sister snapped a random photo of him whilst writing some maths, and Hermann decided to send it to Newt because he knew the guy would get a kick out of the terrible photo, lmao. Plus Newton kept sending him random photos, so it was about time he sent one back.

Lastly, I'd love to point out that I think Newton would wear a USA Godzilla (1998) t-shirt ironically xD So I looked it up and these baddies are going for like $100 on eBay! Fuuuuck, dude xD I hope Newton bought his in the early 2000s, when they were probably worth pennies :b

Anyways, enjoy your second little Secret Santa gift to celebrate Newmann's drift with baby Otachi brain! :) Cheers!

Hallo, hallo @k-sci-janitor !! 💜

Tis I, your Newmann Secret Santa 2024 :D I read you enjoy the Newmann penpal days, and honestly what a great time for these two idiots, haha.

I had a peek at my socks and it sparked this fun idea to see a little slice into a time where Newton sent Hermann a pair of "Marine Biology" socks! >:) Plus a cheeky polaroid from his 3rd PhD graduation xD I mean, Newton probably would send Hermann silly socks all the time, right? xD I also thought it would be fun to do a companion piece where we see Newton receiving a gift from Hermann? But I've run out of time xP I mean, we have until the end of January xD So I could do it if I find some more time 👀 Hehe.

A bit of extra info (because you can't tell with my awful, tiny painting skills xD) Hermann is wearing this lil Mathematics pin that he probably won at a school contest and I love that xD The other one is this fun Pi pin that, let's be honest... Newton probably found in a random shop and immediately mailed it to Hermann xD

Ahhhh! I hope you enjoy this little gift (quite literally, I drew this on my 4x6 sketchpad xD) with my silly drawings on it :b I am sending you good vibes and Newmann happiness this season ;) Cheers!

[buwheal]

Mr. Spamton, have you ever tried sewing before? The patterns some people draft up are bamboozling to the mind, for sure...

-Silly woman who tried, but only managed to stitch together lopsided "pillows" from t-shirts and stuff them with cotton balls

[very-poorly-drawn-tgcf]

Go work off that debt Xie Lian! ....with an extra babysitting job.

Meme template for y'all under the cut + examples I made.

Anyway hopefully next episodes won't take too long. The thing is. The Ghost Groom arc is a lot longer than I remember. I'm still racking my brain over how the hell I'm gonna summarize it because I am not going every single instance

[lovesickeros]

☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."

[wandering-aloneo-o]

if anyone wants to send me absolutely abhorrent building/city/park/etc pictures (through reblogs or dms either works) it would be greatly appreciated!

think like terrible environmentally and/or accessibly speaking (or anything else along those lines)

[fluffy-ami]

Then... lee!caelus? 👀

*inhales* Y E S-

lmao just let the poor dude be the complete gacha addict he is, who needs sleep anyway (I'm just in love with this concept, Caelus is so silly slxkslkz-) 😭

(Milestone ☁️ Top 5 Favourite Fandoms + Recently added) Requests are still open (probably gonna close them in a few days though)! 🌟

[bl-inkstone]

changed my tune so fast just bc of youtube autoplay lmao ok here have some sagau diluc thoughts

the player, diluc thinks, is an incredibly endearing being.

he's come a long way from the curt and wary attitude he used to put on around the traveler (and by extension, you), and today is one of those days where he finds himself privately thanking whatever powers there may be that allowed your paths to cross, with him staring at the reflection of you hidden deep within the traveler's eyes in the wake of his fight with the abyss that fateful night in mondstadt.

as one of the first people to have their constellations manifest in the sky of teyvat, diluc is more than aware that the fact that you still choose to ask for his company in your (or, well, the traveler's) journey is a gift he must treasure deeply. he knows that it is your presence in this world that gives vision bearers a chance to become something greater than they presently are. he also knows that he is no longer as impressive of a companion in battle as he used to be from back when the sky wasn't as bright as it is now (when the world you knew was smaller and he was still a figure that you could look to and proudly call "your main").

but you always come back to him. when he least expects it, you invite him back to your party and diluc can't help but privately think, privately wish, that it's because you're as fond of him as he is of you.

standing in silent prayer while you bestow upon him artifacts that thrum with divine power is an experience he can never tire of. the claymores you give him, the food he eats, all the materials he needs to reach a breakthrough in his capabilities... he understands that you aren't teyvat's creator, but this world and everything in it seems to exist just for you. you, the provider, the sustainer, the beloved of all. sometimes, diluc feels that everything he has and ever worked for have all been for the sake of one day meeting you.

he's not a religious man by principle, and he loathes people of absolute power. the only exception to this, however, is you. he's not foolish enough to believe you're some omnipotent, omniscient being that lords above all. no, you're not like that. he knows this because the longer he journeys with the traveler and feels their bond strengthen, the faint whispers he used to strain himself to hear grow clearer and clearer until finally, one day, he hears you.

you're both nothing and everything he thought you'd be. you view the world of teyvat with so much awe and joy that it's infectious, and he finds himself smiling more often than not to the privilege of finally hearing you. the traveler always looks at him with an understanding smile when diluc slows down in their travels to listen to you. he lives for the moments when you talk to yourself or to someone else (a companion of your own, maybe? from your place beyond the stars?) because this is how he learns. your favorite food, your favorite nations, your favorite "characters" and more. he holds every morsel of information you unknowingly give close to his chest where all his affections and wishes hide. he likes to think that this way, he can be closer and better for you.

but he knows he's not the only one who hears you, and it is the traveler that is closest to you out of all them. even so, diluc harbors no ill will to the avatar you chose to see and travel the world through. you're so fond of the traveler, and how could he ever come to loathe anything graced by your love?

he knows how to play nice. it helps that most of your other chosen are people he can find himself enjoying the company of as well. diluc understands that as much as he wants to be the sole holder of your attention, the world does not function that way. he's willing to extend an olive branch so long as they can all work together to keep you present in teyvat. he can worry about his more aggressive competition later when they aren't at risk of being caught in such an unsightly state by you — all that matters to him, right now, is how to keep your gaze on him for just a little longer and keep you from leaving him again.

it's a daunting thing to be so close to your grace. you take diluc to lands he'd never thought he'd visit again, to ruins of civilizations long past, domains with unimaginable horrors and have him run, claymore and vision burning at his hip, into fight after fight at your command. it's tiring at best and painful at worst, but you always take care to heal him and his companions before leaving, and you always lead them somewhere safe to rest until teyvat brightens and you come again.

his current companions (his "supports", he inwardly preens) rest and talk amongst themselves once they feel your presence leave. it used to be something they, your chosen, would panic over, but now that they've gotten more used to you and all the signs that pointed that yes, this is your will, they've grown to be able to tolerate the harrowing chill that comes when your warmth leaves them. diluc leans back on his chair in front of good hunter to observe them. they're all people he's come to grow fond of in time: diona was prickly, yes, but ha become pleasant to be around once they grew past their misunderstandings. the young master of the feiyun commerce guild, xingqiu, was also a reliable companion both in and outside of battle, and for all his faults, venti has proven himself to be a devout believer, unwilling to be a burden to you or the party you've guided him towards.

under normal circumstances, he never would've met and forged such strong bonds with these people. if not for your own interference, he never would've bothered getting to know any of them at all. though he may have his own gripes and complaints at times of how their dynamic works when you're not around, diluc is still fond of them. he's grateful for the opportunity to grow close to people again, and traveling the world alongside them and the traveler has become one of the few things he's begun to look forward to outside of his duties as "diluc, master of dawn winery." when the day is done and he can sit and relax with them in the tables in front of good hunter, he can rest in the company of others who understand the near-maddening pull in his chest that draws him to try and get closer, closer, to you.

it's days like these where diluc quietly thanks whatever it is brought you to them, and prays that one day, he will no longer have to search through the traveler's eyes to see you.

[poppliosupportsquad]

The tardis duplication did kinda bother me though I think it would’ve been a lot more meaningful if 14 entrusted 15 with it as an acknowledgement that it’s his time now while at the same time trusting the tardis to come back when (and if!!!) truly necessary

[r0semultiverse]

It’s wild to me that some of you have entire discourse accounts dedicated to shipping hate & over analyzing shipping between the anime, manga, & light novels to the point of making harassment campaigns against the authors/writers of the side stories. Yet y’all don’t send the same hate towards Ikemoto & his highly suspect ass art style with the way he draws some of these kids.

[skitskatdacat63]

@lesharl-eclair here is the vettonso timeline I mentioned at some point!! I was gonna make a more refined version but ah, the original is fine so I'm posting it for you <3

Its written so its as if their careers began at the same time. There's obviously some parts where they deviate from each other(I blame Fernando), but they're pretty similar, no??

Here's some notes I have:

They both started at technically the same team(if you ignore that Seb raced one race for Sauber): Minardi/STR. And they spent 3 seasons either racing for that team or testing(Fernando for Renault, Seb for BMW teams), before being promoted to the team where they won their respective WDCS.

They both spent six seasons with their WDC team. And both won their WDCs using Renault engines. Both were pretty much the golden boys of their teams, beloved by their team principal and team in general. Unfortunately both aren't consecutive because Fernando tried out McLaren lol.

They spent a similar amount of years at Ferrari(five and six respectively.) Neither could win a WDC with Ferrai(😔) And both joined Ferrari in a very similar way. When Fernando joined, he ousted Kimi and it was very uncertain where Kimi was going. I think the commentators in 2009 predicted McLaren? (But he ended up taking a sabbatical obv.) But pretty messy, right? The literal same exact thing happened with Fernando and Seb in 2014-2015. They finally announced at the end of the season, even though it was pretty obvious, that Seb would be replacing Fernando. And where did Fernando go? McLaren! The history book on the shelf is always repeating itself. I guess I find it funny that Fernando replaced his former rival under somewhat messy circumstances, only for his other rival to do the exact same thing to him years later.

Okay McHonda and Alpine blah blah blah. Anyways they're probably going to have both end up competing their careers after two years with Aston Martin. This honestly is my favorite parallel. Because it's very sweet to me that Seb replaced Fernando, in an aforementioned messy way, only for Fernando to take Seb's seat in a very peaceful, almost "passing the torch" type exchange 🥰

[n30draws]

🔞🔞🔞

My Fizzarozzie brainrot forced my hand and I ended up writing a little fic about them... It’s basically pwp with a lot of feelings and fluff (despite what the silly title might make you think LMAO). It was supposed to be a oneshot, but I couldn’t help adding a small, extra soft bonus chapter,,,,,

[justanotherjaydrawing]

uh oh Jay's doing experimental self-portraits again!

[hirazuki]

for that ship&kiss thing. celebrimbor/maeglin with number 8?? thank you!

…in secrecy | Celebrimbor & Maeglin

•────────────────────⋅☾ ☽⋅────────────────────•

Aman, a cottage near the border with Avathar. Fourth Age.

"You shouldn't be here," comes the response from behind the wooden door -- finely made, though he does not recognize the craftsmanship -- that has cracked open to reveal pale skin, dark hair, and enough traces of his father's favorite cousin to waken a dull ache in his chest.

Celebrimbor cocks his head to one side, in a way that always prompts others to tell him how much he resembles his grandfather; a source of pride, and irritation. "Is your return among the living meant to be a secret? Did the terms of your release from the Halls not permit for visitors? Or, is this a conclusion you have come to for yourself?"

Silence is his reply, and in it Celebrimbor can hear the snapping of fallen twigs -- the sound of wild things in retreat, scrambling deeper into the forest.

Too much, then. He takes a breath, dampens the inadvertent intensity his spirit has ever burned with, and tries again, softer. "You are not the only one who laid low a city."

"It is not the same."

Distance and disdain, coated in a kind of poisonous pride that seeks to deflect, to set apart and deny others approach lest they notice the stain of shame clinging to reborn flesh and detect the softness lying exposed at hough and wrist and throat.

Oh, this, Celebrimbor knows well; intimately, in fact. This, he can work, with all the ease of coaxing naked gold under heat.

"It seems as though someone has yet to hear the full story," he remarks with a mirthless chuckle, allowing his voice to color with the bitterness and self-derision he is always careful to keep hidden in these unblemished lands; well, almost always. "Truthfully, today marks the beginning of a week-long feast in Tirion and I find I am still ill-suited for crowds. Half of those I could think to impose upon are attending; everyone else has a forge."

Dark eyes blow wide at that last statement, akin to the inquisitive perking of coarse-haired ears or the cautious steps skulking out of the underbrush towards a proffered morsel in his uncle's hand or the curious flicking of a tongue in the presence of an unexpected thought, late at night in the smithy; an indication of interest flaring, however reluctantly -- as Celebrimbor expected. He has had long practice, after all, with courting the attention of the supposedly disinterested, and compared to his successes, the Elf before him hardly places for difficulty.

He makes to speak, and pauses. "Which name do you prefer?" he asks, instead.

"I don't," Maeglin says and turns to go inside, the hair he keeps short brushing the top of his shoulders.

The words are cutting, and the door is left open.

Celebrimbor has never met him before, this cousin of his who is half-Sindar, reared in twilight and young in death, born of the union of blinding light and deeply private darkness, but he knows his story -- no; rather, he knows what they say of the traitor of Gondolin.

He knows what they say of himself, as well.

And he may know nothing of Nan Elmoth, save its hazy reputation, nor what signs might mark Maeglin as his father's son, but, after trading a handful of words, he knows this: Maeglin -- Lómion -- is doubtlessly of the house of Finwë.

Sharp; unyielding; obsidian polished to unbearable reflection that yet remembers the fires in the earth --

Celebrimbor likes him. His manner is familiar in a way that is comforting and painful all at once, and he pointedly decides to blame it on the family resemblance; there is only so much room for specters in his heart, and he is not inclined to give ground to shadows, no matter how they may try to claw at his mind.

Fëanor's only grandson smiles, genuinely -- although there are none there to appreciate the rarity of such a moment -- and follows him indoors.

The place is quiet, dim, and sparse; entirely bare, except for the meagerest of essentials: a lamp, a table, a single chair. There are no tools of any trade or decorative items or personal effects, and the degree of dispossession is such that it can hardly be attributed to a preference of aesthetics.

The rest of the house, presumably, is the same.

It says much and, paired with Maeglin's fingers that have been ceaselessly fidgeting ever since he answered the door -- anxious creatures, ever seeking for something to distract, something to soothe -- it amounts to nothing less than an endless, silent scream.

In a display that is incredibly Fëanorian in its brashness and its intimacy, and, plainly, horrifyingly foreign to his host, Celebrimbor reaches out and takes one of Maeglin's hands in his own, turning it so as to place it against his cheek, and presses his lips into its palm.

Maeglin freezes, going still like the hares in the early morning mists of Eregion -- standing upright amidst the holly trees and rays of first light, statues poised to flee.

"If your hands long to make, cousin," Celebrimbor says, exquisitely aware of his own hypocrisy, "you should let them."

[boylebingo]

THAT was the classic slightly unhinged rookie i know and love <3