#and the german scattered throughout

[aesthetic-bbyg]

HEY EMO BOY - Bill K.

In which you dedicate your performance to your celebrity crush, but he doesn’t know until the press gets ahold of it.

Bill Kaulitz x fem!reader

AUTHORS NOTE: this idea may be floating somewhere on somebody else’s blog but this I just came up myself so I’m not trying to copy nobody! I also had to change some of the lyrics for the sake of the story! Thx bbyg’s <33

Pt 2!

YOU LET OUT A HEAVY BREATH, finishing up the song, you reached down for the bottle of water by your feet, chugging the last of it. The concert has reached it’s final song, and you’ve got an idea that you’ve been planning for weeks. The crowd is still booming with shrieks, practically making the whole place rumbled. A grin appeared on your lips as you walked over to the microphone.

“Can you guys keep a secret?” You questioned as the crowd yelled in return, you giggled and a felt an overwhelming feeling of joy fill your body. “Well, I have a huge crush on this guy who totally doesn’t know I exist.” A string of boos followed after. “You guys may know him, he’s German, he’s the lead singer of a band, I believe he has a twin brother.” Within moments the crowd began to screamed, realizing who it was, there weren’t many German lead singers who have a twin brother, well..not that you knew of. You had a proud smirk on you face, bitting your lip to contain more nervous giggles from slipping out. “I think he suuper hot, so I decided to make a song about him, you guys ready?”

“Yeah!” At the sound of their approval the song immediately began to sound through the massive speakers scattered through the stage. You gripped the bedazzled microphone in your neatly manicured hands, the lights flickered with pretty pink colors, radiating your signature color as it reflected off your diamond studded belt. You couldn’t contain the large smile as you lifted the mic to your mouth.

“Saw this boy at the mall last week, got the kinda look to me me freak!” You skipped around the stage, your denim mini shorts riding farther up your thighs then it already was. “That long ass hair with the tightest jeans, my chemical romance on his tee.” You ran a smooth hand down your body, exaggerating your attraction towards him. “He looked so sick like he was dying, if I said he wasn’t hot then I’d be lying. Please, handsome, don’t be coy. Come on fuck me emo boy!”

The repetition of the lyrics echoed throughout the large stadium, it was actually hilarious how such a large crowd of people jumped and shouted come on fuck me emo boy, over and over again. You giggled, raising the microphone back to your lips, “This boy just unlike the rest, one look and I bitch I loose my breath. Wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? Lift me up and then I drop it. He’s with his band, goin on tour. Should I go? Well, bitch, for sure!” Your favorite was coming up, it was a little explicit but what would be the fun if it wasn’t? “He might not look he gets bitches but honey that dick is eleven inches.”

With your pearly teeth out, your lips stretched into large smile you bounced around the stage, hearing the the beat blast into your ear drum. A collection of things were thrown onto the stage, it was a common reoccurrence during all your concerts. People would launched flowers, letters, bras, sunglasses, and far to many things that just piled up on the floor until you finished your set list and had all the gifts delivered to your dressing room. You admired your fans, the way their wristbands glowed in the dark night, the creative posters that were raised above their heads, it was hard to grasp onto it sometimes but the feeling never failed to make you proud.

“Hey, hey, hey emo boy!” The song had concluded, though the fans were far from quiet, you gave them a polite bow as the crew behind you began to pack up all the instruments. You were stuck in your spot, waving to all the giddy people who nearly broke down the barricade in excitement. “Thank you! Hugs and kisses to all of you who made it here tonight, I love you guys!” Your feet began to move towards the backstage, a part of you absolutely devastated that the show ended, but also relieved to get some rest. Although, before you could fully leave you jogged back over to the microphone. “And make sure to keep the song a secret from the emo hottie.” With that, you walked towards your assistant, Teresa, who held a bottle of water ready for you.

“You looked amazing, baby!” The dark haired girl giggled as you took the cool liquid and let it run down your sore throat.

“Thank you, I felt amazing!” You smiled, “Was the song good? It wasn’t too much, was it?”

“Absolutely not, the song was great, and I’m proud that you finally got around to preforming it.” Your assistant grinned, “It’ll definitely get his attention.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the goal.” You mumbled, looking over at your dressing room, ready to go in and remove all the makeup and heavy accessories you had on till you noticed that your name tag was gone from the front door. “Hey, what happened to my name tag?”

Teresa looked over, “Oh, they’re replacing it because Tokio Hotel is preforming here tomorrow.”

“What!” You nearly chocked on your water, eyes practically bulging out of your face as you stared back at your assistant. “Why didn’t you tell me that they were literally preforming here the day after me?”

“To be fair I didn’t know until they started moving stuff around.” Right as the words left her mouth a random man came over and slipped in a paper to the plastic cover on the front door. It wasn’t a mistake, the bold letter stated back at you: TOKIO HOTEL

“Well, I’m most definitely fucked.”

“BILL!” TOM PRACTICALLY ran across the tour bus, holding his baggy pants up in one hand while the other held a laptop. His twin sat on the couch, munching on a pack of sour candy. “Bill, you have to look at this!”

Bill stared at his brother with furrowed brows, wondering what has gotten him so giddy and grinning like a child. That was until the laptop was shoved in his face, some random article pulled up with some dramatized title that he didn’t even want to read. “What is this?”

“Read it!”

POP STAR, Y/N L/N WRITES EXPLICIT SONG TO GERMAN LEAD SINGER, BILL KAULITZ; COULD THIS BE THE START OF A NEW ROMANCE?

Bill’s fingers slid on the mouse pad, scrolling the through the article as his eyes quickly scanned the words in front of him. “This surely isn’t about me, Tom, it’s just fake news that they’re trying to shove down people’s throats.”

“Don’t be stupid, Bill, the y/n l/n is crushing on you and dropping subtle hints, hence, the song about wanting to fuck you.” Tom shook his brothers shoulders proudly, his grin wide.

A hue of red spread on Bill’s pale skin, clicking on the attached video that gave him the whole performance. Sure enough, there you were, singing a song about wanting to fuck an emo boy. “I don’t know, Tom.”

The oldest twin let out a groan, “Bill, she wants you, think about it. She’s our age and she says that the song is dedicate to a German lead singer who is touring with his band.” He had a good point, and that’s what made Bill smile a bit, it made a puff of pride filled his chest. “That’s what I’m talking about.” Tom laughed, “She wants you, Bill, and I wouldn’t want to pass up on that.”

“Enough.” Bill sheepishly smiled, closing the laptop and shoving into Tom’s chest, curling up on the couch as he felt a wave of heat wash over him. If the song was about him, and you meant what you said, then it really turned him on. He couldn’t help it, his already tight skinny jeans grew tighter.

“BILL, WHAT ARE YOURE opinions on y/n l/n new song about?”

“Bill is it true that you are y/n’s baby daddy?”

“Bill look over here!”

“Are you and y/n a couple?”

A flood of questions and bright, flashing lights came his way as he made his way towards the doors of the venue. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, attempting to move past the paparazzi and avoid there strange questions. His band mates followed behind him, struggling to keep up with him due to the crowding. He finally let out a breath of relief as he made his way inside. The flashing cameras replaced with colorful lights and the screaming substituted with the shaky bass of the music booming from the dance floor. Tom had already separated himself from the group, going off to the bar to try and find a new girl to bring to his hotel. Georg had dropped out, opting on talking with his girlfriend through phone all night instead. Gustav had also followed Tom to the bar, craving alcohol in his system.

The crowd of people were familiar, he had seen some of them at the event from before, there were many famous faces. Yet he stood by a wall, eyes looking around awkwardly, despite the many times he’d been to these events he always had to ease his way in throughout the night. After a few drinks he’d start getting loose, but for the moment he’d just scan the dance floor till he caught someone he knew.

That’s when he gaze was in trapped by a spark, a beautiful glow that confidently bounced on the dance floor, happily dancing. It was you, you were dancing with your friend, a half drunken drink in your hand while your swing your hips and shimmy you chest with a surge of confidence. The short dress having to constantly be tugged down your plush thighs, as you giggled, you felt something. A sense of being watched, but there was hundreds of people around, and a lot of them liked to stare.

You leaned into your friends ear, excusing yourself to the bathroom, you heels carried you to through the crowds of drunk people and to a small opening where you could go to the bathroom. Bill’s eyes watched your every move, were you coming towards him or was he fucking crazy? He nervously stared at you, your features became more clear, it was you. Y/n l/n. You were getting closer, he felt his breath hitch, what was he going to say? Well, he didn’t have to worry since you walked right past him, eyes not sparing him a glance as you rushed into a hallway. He furrowed his brows, staring as your figure disappeared, it was then that he noticed many people exiting and passing to enter the same hallway you just entered. He glanced up and saw the clear sight that read. RESTROOM.

He huffed, crossing his arms with a frown, maybe it was a sigh that he should talk to her but now it he had to wait till you walked back out. Finally, you left the restroom, shoving the lipgloss back into your bra and strutting out. You were excited to go back to dancing, a big smile on you lip, that was until a large hand wrapped itself around your wrist, tugging you back before you could go any farther. You looked back with furrowed brows, you had to crane you eyes up to look at who was the man behind the touch. You mouth went dry, eyes widening, your knees nearly giving out and dropping you on the dirty floor of the venue.

It was Bill fucking Kaulitz, the emo boy you made a whole song about. The song in which was leaked and slapped on every article with your name in the title. You were so happy that the lighting covered the blush that warmed your face. He leaned down, lips brushing you ear, hand still wrapped on on your wrist.

“Hey, I’m Bill.” His hot breath fanned against the shell of your ear, he could smell the faint scent of your perfume, it was intoxicating. “I like your music.” He pulled away, a smug smirk on his face as you swallowed the lump in your throat. His accent was much more hotter in person then it was in the interviews you watched on TV.

“T-Thank you.” You replied, but he simply gave you a confused look. You sighed, attempting to reach his ear, “I said thank you, I like your music as well.”

He nodded, “Thank you, it seems as though one of your songs has gotten quite popular, people have told me all about it.”

You needed to pull yourself together, this was a moment you’ve been waiting for and you couldn’t back down. So you rubbed your lips together, spreading the shiny, sticky gloss. You gazed up at him through your lashes, a flirty smile on your face. “Yeah, I was hoping you’d say.”

“Yeah?” He raised a pierced brow, “Why’s that?”

“You’re the only one I wrote the song for, of course.” You giggled, watching his expression change, he was surprised on how upfront you were about it. You were proud, cocky almost, it turned him on. “So, did you like it?” He nodded in response. “You wouldn’t mind doing what the lyrics say, do you?”

“No.” He replied, watching your smile widen. “I can take you back to my hotel and do exactly what you want me to do, schatz.”

You were getting giddy, you running a hand up his arms, staring up at his smoky eyes with lust. You bit your bottom lip, “Can you kiss me?” A small smirk played on his lips as he leaned down, leaving a slow kiss on your lips. Your hands were on his cheek, leaning up and desperately kissing his lips. His hands wandered, feeling you up in the tight pink dress you were in. Though his same hands seemed to favor a spot in particular, you ass, they ran up and down your sides before they eventually planted themselves there. His head was titled to the side, neck curved down to reach your height and to continue kissing your additive lips. He pulled away, lips sticky with you gloss before he trailed it down to your jaw and neck, his cheeky hands squeezed the flesh. You gasp, allowing him to suck lightly while the music blasted in your ears but it was all tuned out as you focused on the sensation of his tacky lips kissing your skin.

You were most definitely gonna fuck this emo boy tonight.

Y’ALL WANT A PART TWO W SMUT? Either way I’ll probably write one bc this game out better then I expected🤭🤭🤭

#bill kaulitz imagine #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #hey emo boy #bill kaulitz fic #bill kaulitz x you #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz smut #Tokio hotel imagine #fluff

[onlyonetifosi]

Clapping, clapping, i see ya' falling

got the gifs from @matlillard (love the recompilation)

author note1: sorry for taking longer than I expected, been busy

author note2: sorry for the possible bad german, Im spanish, i used google translate

author note2: i hope you like it

"Mick, Schätzchen, have you ever thought about joining TikTok?" Yn asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"TikTok? Really?" Mick raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced.

Yn chuckled, "Warum nicht? (Why not?) It's a fantastic way to connect with fans. Let's create an account together!"

After some convincing, Mick reluctantly agreed. Yn set up his account, and soon they were ready to post the first TikTok. Little did they know, it would become an internet sensation.

His first TikTok featured the two of them attempting the viral clapping challenge. The idea was simple—clap their hands while crossing one leg, all while navigating different locations on race weekends. However, the process wasn't as smooth as it seemed.

In the first clip, Mick and Yn found themselves in a hotel corridor. As they started clapping and crossing legs, Mick tripped over his own feet, and they burst into laughter. The genuine moment of joy captured the hearts of fans, and the comments flooded in.

"Okay, Micky, let's try this again. Clap, laugh, leg cross!" Yn said giggling

"This is harder than it looks!" Mick responded laughing on the corridor floor

"Komm schon, Mick! (Come on, Mick!)" Yn encourages him as they are running late because of his discordination.

"Ich versuche es, Liebling. (I'm trying, darling)" Mick defends himself.

As they attempted multiple takes, they stumbled, bumped into each other, and laughed uncontrollably. The outtakes became just as popular as the original video.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Melbourne, as they stood in their hotel corridor, Mick began the routine with a confident clap. Yn, however, struggled to keep her balance and ended up colliding with a housekeeping cart, sending cleaning supplies scattering.

"Verdammt (damn)!" she laughed, helping Mick collect the fallen items.

The duo's next stop was Imola, where Mick's Australian Shepherd, Angie, joined in on the fun. With her wagging tail, she managed to mimic the leg cross move, leaving the couple in stitches.

"Angie wants to join the TikTok too!" Yn giggled.

"Angie, du bist so süß (Angie, you're so cute)," Yn cooed, ruffling the dog's fur.

Mick petted Angie, "You're stealing the show, Frau"

Throughout the season, Mick and Yn continued the clapping challenge, showcasing different locations, from the paddock to picturesque cities around the world. Each video brought its own set of challenges and hilarious moments.

Encouraged by the positive response of the bloopers she uploaded on instagram, Yn had an ambitious idea – to get Mercedes Team Principal Toto Wolff involved. She pleaded with him in his office.

"Toto, please, it's just a quick video! The fans would love to see the boss having some fun."

Toto sighed, "Fine, but just this once. What do I have to do?"

Yn grinned, "Just clap your hands and cross one leg while walking. It's easy!"

Toto chuckled, "Ah, the things I do for social media”

The resulting video showcased Toto's serious demeanor breaking into a smile as he awkwardly attempted the trend. Fans went wild, and Toto's unexpected charm won over the internet.

"You owe me for this, Mick!" Toto playfully threatened him.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Their TikTok journey continued, featuring special guests like Sebastian Vettel and his wife Hanna. In one video, the four attempted the clap-and-cross routine together, struggling to coordinate their moves, well mostly Seb and Mick.

" Mama, Papa, come join us for a TikTok! It'll be legendary!"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Really, Yn? TikTok?" but she knew he was joking from the playful grin on his face, adn he agreed.

The genuine laughter that followed made it even more endearing. Mick hugged his friend, saying, "Who knew Seb Vettel could be a TikTok sensation?"

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the Silverstone GP, Esteban Ocon, Mick's bestie, couldn't resist joining the trend. The two friends shared a hilarious moment when Mick accidentally stepped on Esteban's foot, resulting in a fit of laughter that echoed through the paddock.

"C'est vraiment drôle!" (This is really funny) Esteban laughed, clapping along.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taking advantage that Mick's sister, Gina, was with them during a race weekend, Yn decided to involve her as she is very fond of the older Schumacher sibling.

"Come on, Gina! We're going to create a masterpiece!" Yn encouraged Gina 

Gina, always up for some fun, joined them in a hotel lobby. Yn and Gina having planned a prank on Mick were ready.

"Bereit, ihr beiden? (Ready, you two?)"

"Ja, let's go!" Yn said mischievously to her.

As Mick started clapping and crossing his leg, Yn and Gina coordinated their push, causing Mick to stumble dramatically.

"Autsch! Ihr seid gemein! (Ouch! You're mean!)" Mick told them faking a hurt expression.

The three burst into laughter, Mick, with a mock hurt expression, turned to Yn for comfort. Seizing the opportunity, he pulled her into a sweet kiss, knowing it would irk his sister.

"I never thought making these videos could be so entertaining. Danke, Liebling" Said Mick kissing his girlfriend as Gina fake gagged behind them.

Gina groaned, "Ugh, you two are insufferable."

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yn convinced Mick to approach other drivers for collaborations. In the paddock at Hungary, they found themselves persuading Lewis Hamilton to join the clapping craze.

"Come on, Lewis! It'll be a blast!" Yn exclaimed.

Lewis, with a grin, agreed, and soon the trio filmed a TikTok that transcended team rivalries and showcased the camaraderie among the drivers.

In Hungary, they even managed to convince Max Verstappen to take part in the viral trend, breaking the mold of fierce competition. The resulting video, featuring Mick, Yn and Max, became an instant hit, uniting fans from different corners of the racing world.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Mick and Yn continued their TikTok journey, their infectious laughter and genuine moments brought joy to fans worldwide. They uploaded the video and promised to repeat it next season as they had so much fun during the making of it.

They uploaded the video, and soon, the comments flooded in, praising not only the couple's chemistry but also Mick's newfound style

She turned to Mick, who was sitting beside her on the bed in their hotel room, scrolling through his own phone. "Mick, isn't this amazing? Our TikTok is blowing up! "

Mick chuckled, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Ja (Yes), it's pretty cool. I didn't expect it to become so popular" And they started reading some of the comments.

One said "Is it just me, or did Mick's fashion game level up this year?" some others said "Mick's style transformation is giving me life. Thank you, Yn!"

Another fan said: "The 'girlfriend effect' is real. Yn, spill your fashion secrets!"

Mick looked from her phone to her girlfriend, who layed across their bed, raising an eyebrow "The 'girlfriend effect,' huh?"

Yn, smiled grinning, proud of herself "Guilty as charged. But admit it, you look great!"

Mick, looked at her grinning "Looks like I owe it all to you, liebling"

taglist: @love4lando@gcldtom@im-mi @hiireadstuff @celesteblack08@reblog-princess@sunf1ower16@janeholt3@athena-artemis-dorian-gray

#f1 imagine #mick shumacher imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 drivers x reader #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher #mick schumacher imagine #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 fanfiction #f1 #mercedes f1 #mercedes amg f1 #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula one

[mikkomacko]

Him and I: Meet the Hischiers

Pairing: Mob Boss! Nico x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, Nico's crappy parents, and mean girls

A/n: Ok I'm so sorry for how long this is, oh my god. I couldn't not add sweet moments between Nico and reader though, but I promise there's only one more chapter of them in Switzerland before they return to Jersey. Anyway, enjoy and please leave comments and thoughts and requests because I love writing mob boss Nico!

xo

~~~~

Nico’s childhood home is humongous. The SUV rolls up the cobblestone driveway to what you’d consider a mansion, honestly. At least three stories, with fields of snow covered grass and hedges, a looping driveway like at a hotel, and a bright red door.

Everything about it screams elegance.

And yet you can picture a tiny Nico toddling after his older siblings in the grass out front, chasing a soccer ball that was half the size of him.

The mental image eases your nerves enough that you’re able to teasingly scoff and smack at Nico’s arm.

“You didn’t tell me your house is the size of New Jersey!”

Nico rolls his eyes at your drama, taking your hand in his and shrugging. “Yes it’s beautiful,” he agrees “but there’s a reason we’re not staying here. Just remember that, ok?”

Dutifully you nod, but that doesn’t stop you from leaning forward to gape at Timo. Your friend just laughs, directing the car into the spot directly in front of the door.

“The Hischier’s are the closest thing to a royal family here,” he tells you. “And Nico is the delinquent prince that ran away from the crown.”

“Stop lying to her Timo.” Nico interjects, his tone hard and commanding. You immediately sink back into your seat, recognizing that for some reason that was a touchy subject.

You’ll ask him about it later when it’s just the two of you.

This time when the car stops, it’s different men in wool coats that pull open Nico’s car door. They greet him in Swiss German, nodding as he slides out and you follow, taking his outstretched hand and stepping onto the stone path.

They look taken aback by your presence, both sharing a look you can’t quite read before greeting you with a simple “miss.”

You smile, wrapping your hand around Nico’s bicep and pressing into his side. Timo falls into step with you, walking alongside as you head for the front door.

Walking into Nico’s childhood home is more like walking into a recently sterilizes hospital room than a house that three children grew up in. Everything is pristine, polished, and pearl white (or beige).

Not a single item in the main room indicates that a family lives here at all. Even the portrait of a man with a thick mustache and sharp nose hanging over the staircase isn’t friendly.

“Wow,” you breathe out, looking over at Timo. He must read the look in your eyes because he nods just once, clearing his throat when Nico shoots him a look over the top of your head.

“Come on baby,” Nico tells you, guiding you further into the house. “They’re probably in the sitting room.”

The sitting room is like a living room, only colder and not exactly lived in. His family is scattered around the large room, perched on white overstuffed furniture. The first to greet you is a light haired woman, and as soon as she smiles you know this is his mother.

“Nico darling!” She exclaims in an accented voice, one that resembles his but with a tone of superiority. Rising from the sofa, she waves the man next to her up. Even if you were seeing him through fogged glass you’d be able to tell he’s Nico’s father.

They have the same nose, same dark eyes that crinkle by the edges. He’s shorter and less broad than Nico, but their posture and gait are the same. Even the way his dark grey hair falls is similar to Nico’s.

They’re carbon copies of each other.

“Son,” the man greets, buttoning up his suit jacket. “The rumors were true then?”

“Rumors?” Nico asks, and his lack of greeting to his parents makes your stomach drop. Throughout the entirety of your relationship you never imagined Nico’s relationship with his family to be like this.

“Word from the airport was that you brought a guest.” His mother supplies, a polite smile being thrown at you. You return it, hanging to Nico’s bicep like a lifeline. Suddenly you feel pathetic, a random American girl pressed at the hip to the heir of a mob family that stretches three countries and two continents. Hiding in the shadow casted by not only Nico but Timo as well.

Maybe it’s a good thing Sieges and the others didn’t come along.

“Timo insisted on tagging along,” your boyfriend jokes and if you weren’t so stunned and stupid you would have laughed. “This,” he continues, prying his arm from your hold to wrap around the small of you back “isn’t a guest, she’s family.”

Steeling your nerves, you take a steady step forward. “Y/n,” you introduce, holding your hand out to his father. “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir.”

He takes your hand, squeezing gently as you meet his gaze. For looking so much like his son, he doesn’t actually resemble him. His eyes are threatening and dark rather than comforting and warm like Nico’s. Even the twitch of his lips feels like it was a muscle spasm.

“Rino,” he tells you. “But sir works better.”

You nod in agreement, now reaching out towards his mother. She’s just as calculated when it comes to introducing herself, her tone haughty and amused as she says “Katja.”

“Wonderful to meet you,” you say, smiling warmly despite the thudding of your heart against your ribcage.

“You as well,” she responds, then shoots her son a look. “I’m afraid we haven’t heard much about you y/n, or anything at all for that matter.”

Ignoring the blow, you settle back into Nico’s side. Timo cuts in, greeting them you think but you can’t really hear him over the voice in your head desperately reminding you that Nico loves you, Nico wants you here.

It’s not until Nico’s nose is pressed to your temple that you snap back into reality. “Breathe y/n,” he whispers, his voice just a tickle in your ear but strong and encouraging. “You’re doing perfect.”

Coming back to yourself, you take his hand in thanks as Katja directs her attention to the few men milling about the room. She speaks to them in Swiss German, an order obviously if them scurrying out of the room is anything to go by.

With her and Rino no longer focused on you for the moment, you helplessly look up at Nico. He’s already watching you, not even a hint of a smile on that handsome face of his. Even so, his gaze is solid and proud, and the subtle tilt of his head tells you enough.

It’s ok.

Your breath shudders, feeling weak under those eyes that know and read you so well. You look away, biting at the inside of your cheek to stop the welling feeling of tears. You have to stop before you let your thoughts run too wild, plagued by images of the sweet man before you living under the scrutinizing gazes of this family.

It’s difficult to even picture how he turned into the Nico you know and love.

The return of the workers distracts you, this time a man and woman following behind them. Another copy of Nico, his brother looks like he could be the elder twin of your boyfriend. The hair, the nose, the jawline, the walk. Must be a Hischier man thing.

And the woman, so obviously his sister, physically resembles Katja but her eyes hold that same twinkle that lights up Nico’s eyes.

“Luca, Nina-“ Katja says warmly. “Your brother is here. With guests.”

Nico sighs, anything he might say remaining unspoken when Nina steps between the two sides.

“Family, Mama.” She corrects, sending you a friendly wink. Like a million bricks have been lifted off your shoulders, you visibly relax at her welcoming.

“Nina,” she tells you “you have no idea how excited I am to meet you.”

She doesn’t hold out a hand, instead stretching out both arms to you. Laughing nervously, you accept her embrace, briefly squeezing her in appreciation and introducing yourself.

“Never thought I’d see Nico with such a beautiful woman,” she teases, an underlying sincerity in her words that warms your cheeks. “He must’ve finally learned how to shower properly.”

Nico mockingly laughs behind you, grumbling in his native tongue to his sister but he’s quick to hug her smaller frame. You almost laugh when he tucks into her shoulder, curling in like he’s supposed to be smaller than her. Like a younger sibling that’s forgotten he’s grown to be the tallest.

Luca greets you, not as warmly as Nina but with more friendliness than their parents. He plants two polite kisses to your cheeks, squeezing your biceps awkwardly before jumping into reuniting with Nico. Nina stands by her mother’s side, nodding at you just once as Katja and Rino tell Nico and Luca something you don’t understand.

Resilience renewed, you turn your head to Timo and he leans down so you can whisper in his ear. “You have to teach me something in German, I’m drowning here.”

He chuckles quietly, leaning into your ear. “I’ll try again but I’m not a miracle worker honey.” You blink at him, jabbing your elbow into him in annoyance. He does it back, jolting you and your gearing up to hit him back when a firm hand is reaching around your back and taking a hold of your elbow.

Easily and swiftly, Nico pulls you into his side. By the way Timo straightens up, you’d imagine he’s been silently scolded by his boss. Smirking, you bat your eyelashes at him and innocently press into Nico’s hold.

“We’ve prepared lunch, if you’re hungry.” Katja offers but she’s already directing everyone to another room. The three of you follow obediently, not having any other option really.

~~~~

Lunch is better than the family reunion that took place in the sitting room. With the distraction of food and a cook and his siblings, Katja and Rino don’t even spare you a second glance or get a chance to grill Nico about anything.

Anytime the Devs or New Jersey comes up, Luca or Nina will steer the conversation away. You’re sure it has something to do with everyone avoiding the topic of Nico’s leave of absence and lack of contact for the past few years, but you can’t be certain because it’s never said.

Nico has a hand on you throughout the whole meal, either lacing his fingers with yours or resting comfortably on your thigh. He makes sure that you eat enough, that your water is ok, that you don’t want more helpings. It’s sweet, the way he always communicates through his actions. Maybe he didn’t prepare you enough for this encounter like he should’ve, but physically he’s been here and done everything to let you know that he has your back.

Besides, after listening to his family carefully navigate around unsavory topics over lunch, you can see why he struggles with words.

Especially when his mother is hell bent on making it uncomfortable. The plates have barely been cleared away when she’s zeroing in on her youngest.

“I suppose it’s time you tell us why you’ve come back,” she says airily. “Or rather why you left?”

Nico’s fingers tighten around yours, eyelids fluttering in annoyance as he suppresses an eye roll. “Mother-“

“Everything was set up Nico,” she cuts in. “The house, the branch, Len-“

“That’s enough!” He cuts off gruffly, silencing Katja. You stroke your thumb over his knuckle, unsure of how to navigate him like this in front of his family. It’s different at home where you have a place, where it’s your job to step in and protect the boys from his angry bouts. But this is different, uncharted. You don’t have a spot in the lives of his family let alone a place to interject. Hell, you don’t even know the context of why Nico left either.

“Watch the tone Nico,” Rino says casually, “that’s your mother.”

Sighing, Nico shakes his head. “I’m here for the week, take it or leave it. And I didn’t come to answer questions you already have the answer for.”

You watch him look around the large table, meeting everyone gaze with a firmness he only gets on jobs and deals. When he receives a simple hum from his mother, he turns to you.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he says quietly, rising from his seat. You follow his lead, pushing your chair back in and sharing a nervous look with Timo.

Nico addresses his parents. “I’m gonna show y/n around the grounds.” Then he’s nudging you towards the hall, large hand on your back as you go.

“Put on a coat Nico!” His mother calls after you and he waves over his head in acknowledgment. You’re silent all the way back to the front door, putty in Nico’s hands as he zips you into your winter coat and slips his beanie over your head.

Returning the favor, the zip his own coat for him, adjusting the collar and hood so his ears and neck stay warm.

Nico doesn’t return to being your Nico until the side door of the house is closing behind you. Immediately he’s attaching himself to you, hunching down to wrap his arms around your waist and tuck his face into your neck. Rising to your toes, you bundle your arms around him as best you can with all the thick winter layers between you.

Closing your eyes, you breathe in the cold air and just hold him for a moment. You don’t let go until he’s pressing a kiss to your jaw, straightening out his posture and looking at you with those moony eyes of his.

“Show me the grounds,” you mock in a posh voice giggling when he rolls his eyes and offers his elbow to you. Taking ahold of him, you tuck your hands into your pockets and let him guide you down the shoveled paths.

The grounds stretch on forever, through untouched wooded land and open plains of snow. Nico shows you a tennis court, a basketball court, the indoor hockey setup him and Luca used religiously as children. You trudge through the snow with him, winter air nipping at your nose and dry lips aching as your awe of the place kept growing and growing. Every ten steps was something new, some fond memory Nico’s dug up of his childhood.

“I almost broke my ankle trying to do cartwheels,” Nico laughs, gaze sweeping over the open area in which Nina apparently tried to teach Nico gymnastics. “She hadn’t even done gymnastics herself, but I wanted her to think I was cool so I did it.”

Giggling, you shake your head at him. “You can’t do a cartwheel?” You ask incredulously. Nico scoffs, shaking his head like it should be obvious. Releasing his arm, you strut to the open space in front of him and throw your arms up.

“Watch and learn Nico baby.” You tease, winking before executing a perfect cartwheel. The snow is cold on your hands, bites at your fingers but you do a couple more anyway just to show off.

Nico exclaims in surprise, staring at you with his jaw dropped and dimples in his cheeks. “Alright, just rub it in my face!” He complains and you laugh, giving him a bow. Leaning down he scoops up some snow, quickly packing it together. You have just enough time to curl into yourself before he’s throwing it at your torso.

Squealing, you dig your numb hands into the snow to throw one back. Dodging and ducking through laughter, you and Nico pelt each other with snow until your hands are so frozen you think they might fall off.

In surrender, you leap at him and throw your arms around his neck. The shock of your bitter cold fingers on his bare skin makes him jump and he goes crashing to the ground, taking you with him.

Luckily he breaks your fall, and the snow breaks his so it’s still giggles when you cup his jaw, sitting up to check him for injuries. He’s got snow in his hair and eyelashes, his cheeks and nose glowing red as he bites at his bottom lip to try and contain his smile.

“You’re so handsome,” you whisper, the words mostly spoken to yourself but in the large, silent estate they carry. Nico’s cheeks redden even more, eyes glimmering with love. Then, thinking of the cold man from whom Nico got his looks, you quickly add “inside and out.”

His face falls with realization, a look of sympathy flashing through his eyes. Not that he should be sympathetic about anything, these people didn’t raise you. “I should’ve warned you,” he says “I just didn’t want to scare you. And I didn’t want you to think I don’t love them because I do, they’re just different.”

The snow has begun soaking into your pants, stinging your skin and you imagine Nico’s butt must be just as cold. Yet he makes no move to get up, just stares up at you from the ground with those all-telling eyes of his.

“You warned me,” you say “maybe not intentionally but you did.” From wasting away the morning with you to the way he always had a protective hand on you today, Nico warned you the best way he knows how. With protective actions.

Brushing his hair off his forehead, you ask “wanna talk about it?” Nico sighs, cheeks puffing up as he does so and the cloud of his breath dances in between you. He agrees though, nodding for you to get up so you climb off his lap and take his hand to help him up.

Nico takes both of your hands in his, squeezing them before drawing the up to his lips. Eyebrows pinched together in concentration, he breathes hot hair in an attempt to warm them up for you. After a moment he squeezes them again, frowning when they’re still too cold for his liking.

Giggling, you pull your hands back and hug his arm. “I’m ok, let’s just go back and we can talk somewhere warm.”

Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, Nico agrees. Oblivious to the figure looming on the balcony that overlooks the grounds, he leads you back towards the house, feet crunching in the snow.

~~~~

Clothes sopping wet and cold, you shuffle into Nico’s old bedroom and immediately begin shedding your winter layers. Unsure of everyone else’s whereabouts in the house, Nico closes the door and locks it before he too strips out of his clothes.

In just his boxers he disappears into the closet and you take the opportunity to look around his room. A large bed sits in the middle of the room, a fluffy blue quilt that matches the accent wall covering it. An old ratty teddy bear sits on the bed, looking out the large window across the room. The view is beautiful, snow covered mountains and white topped trees. There’s a desk in the corner, the top of it empty but the shelves have a few books and childhood awards scattered on them.

You tiptoe over, notice most of the awards have a soccer or hockey player on them. There’s one of a boy snowboarding and one engraved with a book, and though you can’t read them inscription, the year on them tells you that Nico was under 16 when he won all these.

A photo you’ve seen on his phone is hung up next to the desk, Luca and Nina holding a baby Nico on a beach somewhere, all chubby cheeks and blonde hair.

A poster of a Swiss tennis player hangs next to the bed, a few more photos scattered around the room. You don’t get the chance to examine them because Nico strolls back into the room with a ball of clothes in his hands.

“Not sure when these were last washed but it should be fine,” he shrugs, dropping the mess of items to the bed. He digs out a pair of boxers, some dark sweats, and a long sleeve for you. You happily accept the dry clothes, stripping out of your damp underwear and bra.

Nico’s Calvin’s are a little tight when you shimmy them up you hips but not uncomfortable. You pull the sweats on, rolling the waistband so they don’t hang over your feet. It’s not until you’re tugging the shirt over your head that you notice Nico is standing butt naked across from you, boxers in hand as he shamelessly watches you change.

Knowing where this going, you quickly pull the shirt on, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Put that thing away and start talking Hischier.”

He chuckles, beginning to get dressed. You sit on the bed, reaching over for the teddy and pulling it into your lap. “What do you want to know?”

“I know how you ended up in Jersey,” you say, fingers rubbing at the soft fabric of the bears ear. “Inheritance from your grandfather and wanting to get away from here. But I always thought it was because you’re the youngest, ya know? You like to be in charge and you can’t do that with Luca and Nina being in line for everything,”

Nico lets you talk, pulling on his teeshirt and settling into the bed next to you.

“But your parents said everything was lined up. What did they mean?”

Nico sighs, eyes dropping to his lap and he fiddles with the tie on his sweats. You turn to look at him, walking the teddy bear across the mattress and plopping it in his lap. He doesn’t look at you but a dimple sinks into his cheek and he takes the bear from you.

“My parents were trying to branch out, stretch the business like they did sending Nina to France. They had this whole mock up of me using my inheritance to move to Germany and head everything there.

“But they wanted to send someone with me. This girl whose father does business with mine. We had a thing kind of when we’re younger, not dating but like when I wanted to be with someone she was there. So they added a wedding to the plan and invited her to join the family.”

There’s no reason to be jealous of this girl, whoever she is. You know that, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling a little nauseous thinking of his family picking out a wife for him.

“What did you say?” You murmur, slipping your fingers under his shirt and stroking the warm skin of his stomach. Nico picks at a thread on the bear, taking a deep breath.

“Nothing, to them. I took the money and some buddies and left. Told Nina I was starting my own family in Jersey, that I didn’t want to be married or in Germany.

“That’s how I got Timo, Sieges, and Bratter to join me. We’d all been friends for a while and they hated the girl. My parents didn’t know, but she’d been after Luca the whole time she was with me. He was too focused on taking over here in Switzerland though. That’s why she wanted him, she wanted to be the queen or whatever of Switzerland. “

“Why’d she agree to marry you then?”

Nico looks up now, shrugging. You inch closer to him, stomach feeling sick and he must know you don’t particularly like to hear this story because he nudges you into his lap. Straddling his thighs, you relax forward into his chest and let him wrap his arm around you.

“Because one of us was better than neither I guess. I had a feeling she assumed she could marry me and then convince me to push Luca out or something. I don’t know but I didn’t say a word to her either, I just left.”

You nod, the joke Timo made in the car earlier finally adding up. Nico was the prince lined up to be married and grow the business, to make his family stronger. Instead he took his power and his means elsewhere. He built his own kingdom.

“I think you’re so smart Nico,” you mumble, “not many 18 year old boys would be able to do what you did.”

Nico tucks the bear into your chest and you hug it. “I had help,” he says “but it was the best decision I ever made. I got you from it.”

His phone buzzes on the nightstand, interrupting you two. You feel him reach over for it, holding you tighter as he leans over.

“Nina invited us to go out tonight for drinks,” he says. “She wants to have fun without my parents around.”

“Is Timo invited?”

“Yes, Timo is invited.” Nico laughs, stroking your hair.

“Ok. I have to go home for new clothes though.”

Nico hums his agreement, still stroking your hair. You cuddle into him, hugging the teddy bear tighter as you sort through everything he told you. It’s impossible for you to see how some girl had Nico right in front of her, was lined up to spend the rest of her life with him and instead made him feel unwanted.

How could anyone not pick him? How was she not begging on her knees to run away to Jersey with him?

“Nico?”

“Yes baby?”

“I want you,” you whisper. “I always have and I always will. I’d do anything for you.”

You think of everything you’ve given up for Nico, the life you’d left behind for him and it doesn’t even phase you. Because he’s worth it, always worth it.

“Trust me, I know my love,” he assures but you can hear the relief in his tone. Then he’s giggling boyishly, digging his nose into the top of your head. “I knew as soon as met you that there was no getting rid of you.”

Blushing, you close your eyes and enjoy his embrace, enjoying a moment with just him.

~~~~

Luca owns the bar that Nina had invited you too. Technically the business owns it, but it was Luca’s investment plan that acquired it and it’s his staff that runs it.

You find that out as Nico leads you by the hip to the sectioned off tables in the back. Luca and a few other guys mill about the table, some you recognize from seeing around the house today. Nina is there too, her long hair pulled back into a slick pony and she’s sipping from a fruity cocktail with a blonde girl.

“You made it!” Luca greets upon seeing his brother, his demeanor much more welcoming and laidback than earlier. You let go of Nico’s hand so he can hug Luca again, his eyes crinkling as he laughs.

Timo bro-hugs Luca before disappearing back into the common area, most likely heading to the bar. You’re reaching for Nico’s hand again when Luca crouches down to meet your gaze, glossy eyes and smile shining at you.

He looks so much like Nico.

“There she is!” He shouts, charging you with open arms. You laugh in shock when he scoops you up in a hug, drink sloshing against your back as he sways back and forth.

“Hi Luca,” you giggle, awkwardly rubbing your hand up and down his back. “Nice to see you again.”

He drops you to your feet, gripping your elbow when you stumble. Not that it’s needed; Nico’s hand found your lower back as soon as your toes touched the polished floors.

“You know, I never understood why Nico loved Jersey so much,” he shouts over the music and chatter “but I get it now. I like you a lot even if my parents don’t.”

You’re not shocked to hear that but you dramatically gasp anyway. “Your parents don’t like me?!” You cry, holding a hand over your heart. “What’ll we ever do?”

Luca laughs at you, taking a swig of his beer before shaking his head fondly. “Fuck ‘em,” he says casually “Nico’s better off with you anyway.”

Your cheeks heat up at his words, flattered by the praise. You were hesitant about Luca earlier, not knowing if he liked you or not. He was harder to read than Nico and Nina but you assume that’s the oldest sibling in him.

Without another word he’s walking away, stumbling towards the pool tables with some friends. Nico leans in over your shoulder, nose brushing your temple.

“He’s a friendly drunk,” he explains “but he really does like you.”

You turn towards him. “He’s funny,” you say “I like him too.”

Pressing the lightest kiss to your cheekbone, Nico nods towards the bar. “Something with vodka?” He asks and you peek around him at Nina.

“I want what Nina is drinking.”

Amused, he nods and takes you by the hand. He approaches the booth, leaning over towards his sister to mumble something in her ear. You don’t hear what she says back but Nico straightens out, stepping out of the way and nudging you to sit down. Happily, you slide into the seat next to Nina and accept her giddy hug.

Nico sweeps your hair over your shoulder, squeezing your neck briefly before going to get your drink.

“Oh this is Maja,” Nina introduces you to her friend. You reach over the table to shake her hand and introduce yourself.

“I’m with Luca,” Maja tells you, her pretty blue eyes sparkling. “Sorry I missed lunch today, I tend to skip those gatherings as often as I can.”

“I totally understand!” You laugh,” I’ll have to keep that in mind for next time.”

Nina gasps, gripping your arms as she beams at you. “You’re gonna come back?!”

Giggling, you nod. “Well yeah, I know Nico misses you and Luca and it hasn’t been bad. Besides, it’s beautiful here!”

“You have to visit in the summer!” Maja tells you, “we can make fondue and float the river.”

Nina agrees telling you all about how that was Nico’s favorite thing to do when he was younger. Then she’s inviting you to France, telling you all about the beautiful French men and how much you’d love them.

You let her chatter on, laughing at her antics. French men aren’t exactly your forte, especially not when you’re dating a Swiss man but you can remind her about that later.

“Nina,” Nico interrupts, placing your drink in front of you. “are you trying to set my prinzessin up with a Frenchie?”

Sliding in next to you, he wraps his arm around your stomach and draws you back into his chest. His sister gapes at him, so shocked by his words she’s gone speechless and you shyly sip your drink.

“Prinzessin, Nico!” She gasps, holding her heart. Nina tells him something in Swiss German, reaching around you to excitedly shove her brother.

His response is also lost on you but you can tell by Nina’s moony eyes and how he hunches into you that it was something loving and sweet. “Soon, soon.” Nico finally says, taking a drink of his beer and setting it next to yours.

“Hey don’t talk about me when I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

Laughing, Nico presses a kiss to your temple. “Sorry baby,” he says, squeezing your shoulders. You turn to face him, sliding your leg over his lap.

“You didn’t tell me about Maja,” you murmur, fiddling with the straw in your drink. Nico’s eyebrows pinch together, lips pursing in confusion as he looks around the bar.

“Who?”

“Nico oh my god,” you gasp “Luca’s girlfriend-wife-whatever?”

Some clarity washes over his face and he giggles, glancing across the booth to Maja. Lowering his lips to your ear, “I thought her name was Maria,” he whispers and you laugh.

“I don’t know, Luca got with her after I left and he’s not chatty on the phone. For all I know he’s already married her.”

You look over your shoulder at her hand. “No ring,” you tell him “and I don’t think he’d get married without telling you.”

Nico shrugs, taking a swig of his beer before holding it out to you. You slide him your drink, trying the tangy beer he’s been nursing. It’s not bad but beer isn’t your favorite so you quickly hand it back.

“That’s sweet,” Nico says, smacking his lips and returning it to you. “Too sweet, Jesus Christ.” You laugh, snacking an arm around his shoulders and digging your fingers into the strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

“It’s not that bad,” you argue, guiding him closer to you. Smirking, those dark eyes of his dance across your face before settling on your lips. He does the rest of the work for you, capturing your mouth in a sloppy kiss.

“Mmm,” he hums, pulling back and swiping his tongue across his lips. “Better.”

His voice has that gruffness to it, heavy and thick, and not just because his accent is stronger now that he’s home. It makes your neck and ears feel hot, stomach flipping.

“No PDA in my bar Nico!” Luca’s shouting makes you jump, almost knocking Nico’s beer across the table and him and Timo snicker as they sit across from you.

“Bar PDA is his favorite,” Timo laughs, winking at you. “How do you think they ended up together?”

You can’t even argue with him. Nico is notorious for being handsy, especially when he’s out and drinking.

“Really?” Luca hums, slinging an arm around Maja. “It used be like pulling teeth just to get him to look at girl around here.”

And well, that’s news to you. Although you suppose if he planned on leaving Switzerland anyway and he had that girl to fool around with whenever he wanted, what’s the point? You’re well aware that he was never looking for love.

Nico quickly changes the topic, asking Timo about his day with his family tomorrow and you join Nina and Maja as they sift through songs on the online jukebox to play.

The queue stacks up, your drink starts to run out, and Nico leaves with Timo and his brother to go play pool. Nina leaves the phone with Maja, taking you by the hand to the bar where she orders more drinks and drops them on Nico’s tab. Not that it matters, you doubt he pays for drinks here anyway.

“I’m gonna head to the restroom,” you tell her, and she takes your drink back to the closed off section. The bathrooms are in the opposite back corner, a group of girls huddled in front of the door so you line up behind them.

Your phone buzzes in hand, Nico’s contact lighting up the screen and you almost laugh. Of course he noticed you were missing.

I’ve lost my pretty girl

Biting your lip, you text back bathroom break ♥️

The typing dots pop up and you’re anxiously awaiting his response when the conversation around you catches your attention. Specifically the mention of Nico’s name.

“He’s still as hot as ever,” a dark haired girl in front of you comments, and you keep your eyes on your phone so they don’t think you’re eavesdropping.

“Do you think she’s actually with him or is that just another fuck you to his parents?”

Nico’s text comes through, but you can’t focus enough to read it. “I mean, she doesn’t look his type so who knows. Didn’t he say he wasn’t into commitment Lena?”

Out of the corner of your eye, a tall and leggy brunette twirls her hair around her finger and shrugs. “If he were into commitment don’t you think he’d be with me right now? It’s definitely just to piss off his parents, I mean did you see the size of her? Typical American girl.”

Suddenly you feel sick, like everything you’ve ever eaten is choking up in your throat and about to spew all over the mean girls in front of you.

“I heard he put her in the family,” a quieter voice says. “Timo was talking about it at the bar with Luca. He’s calling her his princess.”

The leader-Lena, scoffs. “Princess? She hasn’t even got a pendent let alone a ring.”

Maybe this why Nico doesn’t talk about his exes. They’re mean and petty little girls, girls that haven’t moved on in over 5 years. That doesn’t make it any easier to hear though.

“Probably another one of his deals. He fucks her, she pretends to be serious with him for a family trip.”

“Why would he decide to come back now with a fake girlfriend?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Lena laughs, loud and proud. “He must have heard that I’m back at the estate.”

You decide that’s enough, pocketing your phone and clearing your throat. All the girls jump at the noise, turning to face you and you smile.

“Are you in line for the bathroom or just gossiping?” You ask politely, smirking as the color drains from all their faces. All except Lena, who looks you up and down before sheepishly nodding for you to go ahead.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” You say, stopping in the doorway to look at her. “You’d think Luca would have bathrooms strictly for family but I guess not.”

Embarrassed, they all laugh awkwardly and you close the door behind you. What the fuck?

~~~~

By the time you’ve returned to the booth, you’ve shaken off the word of those girls. You trust Nico, you know Nico loves you, and high school bullies that pick on girls weight and nationality aren’t going to change that.

Nico is still playing pool, but he catches your eye and winks as you settle in next to Nina. Smirking, you blow him a kiss before Nina is handing you music rights. Sipping on your drink, you pull up your playlist on your phone and find the Swiss songs Nico likes. Adding his favorite to the queue you hand the phone back.

“How do you know that song?” Maja asks you, chewing on the end of her straw. You take another sip of yours.

“Nico plays it every time we’re in the car.” You say, catching the eye of Lena over Maja’s shoulder. She simply raises an eyebrow you, throwing back whatever shot is in hand and purses her lips.

“Hey, do you guys know her?” You suddenly ask, nodding towards the bar where Lena is now perched over the top to steal cherries from behind the counter.

“Oh,” Nina mumbles, laughing awkwardly. “Rino does business with her father and uh…”

“She was into Nico?” You supply, glancing over at your boyfriend. Maja bites her lip, hesitantly nodding.

“She was supposed to marry him.” Nina tells you, lowering her gaze to the table. Suddenly it all clicks; the comments about sleeping with him, about him not committing, about using me.

The song changes, the beat immediately catching the attention of Nico who stands up taller and looks over at you. You smile, wiggling your fingers at him as Nina laughs.

“I never thought Nico could be so romantic.” Maja teases you, not that you get it. The rap song is lost on you, any translation you’ve tried to look up being even more confusing. So you just enjoy the beat of it usually.

“What?”

Nina laughs, finally realizing that you can’t understand Swiss German. “It’s a love song,” she tells you, and then she’s pulling up the lyrics and translating them for you.

It’s a lot of nonsense, cute tidbits about how the artist loves the habits and traits of his lover. But the chorus is sweet, a declaration of him finding love after being told he would always be on his own.

Unable to help yourself, you swallow down the rest of your drink and scramble out of the booth. Nico is watching you, bottom lip caught between his teeth as you approach him. He’s leaning on the pool stick but as soon as you get close he’s moving it aside.

You crash into him, bury your nose in his hoodie and holding his waist tightly. “What’s her deal?” Luca slurs, but he goes ignored. Nico squeezes you just once, swaying side to side in time with the song.

Closing your eyes, you think of him singing along in the car, humming it in the shower while he washes your hair for you, blasting it through the house when you two clean together.

“Who translated it for you?” He finally murmurs, his smile present in his tone.

“Your sister,” you say, resting your chin on his chest and looking up at him. He’s all white teeth and dimples when you meet his gaze, eyes glimmering with pride. “Her and Maja think you’re very romantic.”

Nico shrugs but doesn’t argue. The pool balls clink behind you and then Timo is hollering. “Game over Luca, pay up.”

Luca mutters something in Swiss, heading to the bar with his head low. You let go of Nico, giving Timo a chance to high five you both.

“Let me teach you to play,” Nico tells you, handing you the pool stick. You follow him to the end of the table, letting him show you how to rack up the balls. Timo chalks up your stick for you, tells you about the cue ball.

And you go about your night, teaming up with Nico to play Timo. He stands behind you for every shot, large hands over yours on the pool stick and his warm chest tight against your back.

It feels so good to have him wrapped around you that you don’t even notice the staring eyes of Lena and her friends.

And you don’t bring her up to Nico, though you probably should’ve.

~~~~

#nico hischier #mob boss Nico Hischier #nico hischer x reader #mob boss au #Him and I #nhl #new jersey devils #nj devils #fluff

[swan-of-sunrise]

Sunshine

Summary: Steve pays a visit to the Smithsonian’s new exhibit honoring Captain America, and a little bit of sunshine unexpectedly breaks through his cloudy day.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning/Disclaimers: Disclaimer for a candid depiction of depression and its symptoms, and brief depictions of PTSD

A/N: I wanted to start this new one-shot collection off with a look into Steve’s POV, specifically when he meets (Y/N) in the Smithsonian. It was my favorite moment to write in The Winter Soldier and I had so much fun revisiting it from a new perspective! Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope that you enjoy!

Sunshine March 2014 Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, Washington D.C. (Fanfiction Masterlist)

Although it had been over two years since he’d been discovered alive and frozen in time within the wrecked remnants of Schmidt’s plane, Steve Rogers still didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He had work, of course; completing missions on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D. was familiar, reminiscent of his past and all the work he’d done alongside the SSR as the leader of the 107th tactical team throughout the war. But outside of work, he struggled to find ways to keep himself occupied. The notebook he filled with seventy years of various pop culture references kept him busy but as his understanding of the 21st century grew, so too did the disconnect he felt from the people and places that surrounded him.

So, on a beautiful spring afternoon that others were no doubt spending with their friends and family, Steve found himself sitting alone in the screening room of the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum’s ‘Captain America: A Living Legend and Symbol of Courage’ exhibit. The filmed testimonials of various men and women who’d been directly or indirectly impacted by his actions included an emotionally-charged interview of Peggy Carter from the early 1950’s, several years after the creation of S.H.I.E.L.D. and her promotion to its first Director. Her hairstyle was different and her brown eyes had the hardened look of someone who’d seen far too much pain in such a short span of time, but to Steve she looked exactly the same as she had when they’d fought through Schmidt’s mountain fortress together in 1945.

“That was a difficult winter. A blizzard had trapped half our battalion behind the German line. Steve…Captain Rogers, he fought his way through a Hydra blockade that had pinned our allies down for months.”

Steve remembered the battle, just as he remembered each and every battle before and after. His elevated body temperature and high metabolism kept him from feeling the chill of the blizzard that raged on as he fought, but nothing in the super-soldier serum could keep his body from going numb when he saw the frozen and broken bodies of hundreds of soldiers scattered amongst the snow. He squeezed his eyes shut to stop himself from visualizing the explosions ripping through Panzers and hearing the roaring gunfire ricocheting off his vibranium shield, and he took a deep breath before opening his eyes and refocusing on Peggy.

“He saved over a thousand men, including the man who would…who would become my husband, as it turned out. Even after he died, Steve was still changing my life.”

He looked down at the compass in his hands and studied the black-and-white photograph he’d clipped out of a newspaper back in ‘44. He was happy that Peggy had gotten to live a long and happy life surrounded by loved ones and he made sure to tell her every time he visited her in the nursing home, but he couldn’t help but envy her a little; she’d lived the life he’d always wanted back before he took the serum and became Captain America, but after all he’d seen and done since, he wasn’t even sure what sort of life he wanted to live. He was lost in an unfamiliar world filled with people who believed he should be grateful for a chance at a new life and who didn’t care to know how he truly felt about his situation. It didn’t take him very long to learn that only one thing remained constant after seventy years: the rest of the world only saw Captain America, the Star-Spangled-Man-With-A-Plan, and not Steven Grant Rogers, the kid from Brooklyn who hated bullies and who only wanted to do the right thing.

The video continued to play as Steve stood and exited the screening room, slipping his hands into his jacket’s pockets and bowing his head while he went. The rest of the exhibit was filled with tourists eagerly examining artifacts from his life before and during his time of service, and Steve felt a familiar twinge of discomfort at the sight; it’s like they don’t understand that they belonged to real people and not characters from a story, he thought to himself as he walked past a group of young adults snidely critiquing Dum Dum Dugan’s combat gear displayed on a mannequin along with the rest of the 107th tactical team. There were far fewer people near the display dedicated to Bucky, so Steve gravitated towards it and studied the old photograph of his best friend; he was smiling and there was still a sparkle of life in his eyes, eyes that hadn’t yet seen the brutality of war, the unspeakable horrors concocted by the Nazis and the gruesome torture inflicted on him by Hydra while he was a POW.

Steve’s memories of Bucky and that fateful mission in the Alps were suddenly interrupted when the young woman standing in front of him turned and collided with his chest, dropping her notebook onto the ground and scattering its loose papers across the floor; she immediately knelt and began gathering up the sheets and Steve winced at the accident he’d inadvertently caused. “Sorry! Here, let me help you with that.” He kneeled on the ground before her and assisted her. “I wasn’t paying attention, I’m sorry-”

“I’m the one who should say sorry, I was so wrapped up in writing that I didn’t see…” The young woman’s voice faltered when she looked up from their shared work and her (Y/E/C) eyes widened in recognition. “Steve?”

Steve’s own eyes widened as he finally recalled just where he’d seen the woman before. “(Y/N), right? From yesterday morning?”

(Y/N) nodded. “That’s me.” She took the papers and tucked them inside her well-worn notebook as they stood. “What brings you to the Smithsonian?”

He shrugged and took a moment to adjust the bill of his baseball cap while he thought up a suitable answer. “I had the day off, and I guess I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. What about you?”

“Research,” She answered with a smile as she proudly brandished her notebook. “I’m writing a novel, so I was looking up information on Soviet Cold War-era missiles. Then when I finished with that, I thought I’d also see what all the fuss was about. I actually had another spark of writing inspiration before I smacked into you just now.”

Steve’s brows rose with interest. “You’re a writer? Have I heard of any of your work before?”

“Well, this novel I’m working on is actually my first.” They both stepped aside to let a group of schoolchildren read Bucky’s display. “I’m trying to become a historical fiction novelist, and I chose to write about the Cold War for my first novel.” Steve couldn’t help but admire the brightness in her smile and how the simple gesture illuminated her entire face, so much so that he nearly missed her question. “So, what do you think? Is everything here historically accurate?”

“Pretty much. What do you think of it?”

(Y/N) considered his question for a moment before answering. “I don’t know yet; on one hand, I think it’s great that an exhibit like this exists to educate people, especially children, about history, but part of me can’t stop thinking that it’s also an invasion of privacy.” Taken slightly aback by her reply, Steve frowned in confusion and watched as she gestured towards the many display cases surrounding them. “Like these, for example. These are private sketches of your family and friends that I’m sure you never meant for others to see. And over there, they have your underwear on display, for God’s sake!” A nearby middle-aged couple threw her a disapproving glare at her exclamation and Steve did his best to stifle his chuckle. “I don’t know, I think that they should show more respect when they create exhibits like this, especially if the person they’re about is still alive. You may be Captain America, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a little privacy, too.” The earnestness and underlying indignation in her words of defense took him by surprise, and it wasn’t until her head tilted to the side in curiosity that he registered the small smile playing on his own lips. “What is it?”

“Nothing…you just sound a little different from most of the people I’ve met since coming out of the ice.” Steve looked over at his best friend’s display and awkwardly cleared his throat as he struggled to keep their conversation going. “It’s lucky that I ran into you, actually, I was gonna try and stop by the VA today but I have no idea what the address is.”

“Oh, I’ve got it right here!” She reached into her pocket for her cell phone and began tapping away. “Let me see, where did I-ah, found it! It’s 50 Irving Street Northwest. All you have to do is go down North Capitol-wait, it might be 6th Street instead…and of course, no signal in here…” A small line formed between her brows as she frowned. “Urgh, if I had my car with me, I’d just give you a ride since I’m going there later anyways but Sam took it to work this morning…”

“I could always give you a ride, if you want?” Steve blurted out, praying that he wouldn’t start blushing as she considered his abrupt but sincere offer. “It’d be no trouble at all.”

(Y/N)’s smile brightened her expression and she nodded. “Okay, then. I’m pretty much done here, so just let me know when you wanna leave.”

“Let’s go.” They walked out of the exhibit and Steve snuck a clandestine look at the writer walking beside him; she was undoubtably pretty, with strikingly intelligent (Y/E/C) eyes and lips that seemed perpetually ready to curve into a teasing smile, and just as he’d done the day before when they’d first met by the National Mall, he compared her to sunshine breaking through a cloudy sky. She was vivacious and so full of life – a shining example of a modern 21st century woman – but at the same time, something about the way she talked and carried herself reminded him of a different time. He’d gone on a couple of dates since coming out of the ice but up to that point, the only woman he felt comfortable being around was Natasha, his coworker and occasional mission partner at S.H.I.E.L.D.; with (Y/N), though, he felt unusually at ease and the only discomfort came from the shyness she brought out in him. C’mon, Rogers, there’s nothing scary about just talking to her, he scolded himself before swallowing thickly and speaking up. “So, how far along are you with your novel?”

“I’m actually almost done with it, thank God. Not that I don’t enjoy writing, of course, but some days it feels like I’ve been writing this thing for a decade.” (Y/N) hitched the strap of her messenger bag higher on her shoulder and flashed him a thankful smile as he held the museum’s front door open for her. “Today was my last day of research. All I need to do is finish writing the last few chapters and then I can send them to my publisher for final approval.”

Steve smiled at the enthusiasm he detected in her voice. “Have you already chosen a title?”

“It’s called For Queen and Country, but there’s a funny story about how that came to be. I originally titled it The Détente Paradox, because the novel chronicles how a female MI5 agent discovers a plot to infiltrate and destabilize peace talks between the United States and the U.S.S.R.; my publisher argued that even if American readers knew the English translation, they wouldn’t understand the story from the title alone-”

“The Relaxation Paradox; makes perfect sense to me.” Steve felt himself flush as (Y/N)’s brows rose in surprise. “I, um, speak a little French. Sorry, you were saying?”

She looked impressed as they made their way towards the museum’s parking lot. “The criticism got under my skin and I couldn’t think of anything else until one night, my publisher called me after binge-watching some classic James Bond movies with his wife. In a couple of them, James Bond sometimes says he does the things he does as a spy ‘for Queen and country,’ and-wait, do you know about James Bond?”

“Nope, but I’ll go ahead and add him to the list,” Steve replied as he pulled out his notebook and jotted down the fictional spy’s name.

“So anyway, my publisher convinced me to change the title to For Queen and Country. I’d hate to boost his ego, but it sounds a lot better than anything I thought of.”

Tucking the notebook back into his pocket, Steve scanned the parking lot for any potential threats while he remarked, “In my day, authors usually sent a completed novel to a publisher instead of sending it in separate parts. I guess that’s changed, too?”

“No, that hasn’t changed; this publishing company’s co-owned by one of my old friends from high school who also happens to be the only person I trust to edit my writing. My situation is a little unorthodox, though; to convince his publishing partner to give a first-time novelist like me a chance, he’s been giving him some of my short stories to read. His partner likes them so far, so as long as I keep sending in things that he enjoys he might agree to publish my novel once it’s finished.”

Steve hummed to himself, even more impressed by the writer walking beside him than he already was. “Sounds stressful.”

“Well, it’s not ideal but it makes balancing research and work a little easier, and I’m not about to quit now, not while I’m so close to being published.” (Y/N) shrugged and looked over at him with a kindly smile on her face. “But what about you? What’re you doing to keep busy these days?”

Hastily deciding that (Y/N) didn’t need to know how he spent his free time alternating between visits with his ninety-three year old first love and moping alone in his apartment, Steve replied, “I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. Whenever I have some free time I read the internet and go through my list to mark things off. I didn’t have much to do this morning, so I listened to some of the soundtrack from American Graffiti; it’s not what I’m used to, but I liked it. All the songs sound unique from one another.”

The writer’s eyes lit up when he mentioned her music recommendation, and he felt his heart stutter at the beautiful sight. “Right? My mom was born in the sixties so she grew up listening to that type of music. Whenever my brother and I had to help on chore day, she’d put on her old records so that we’d have something fun to listen to while we cleaned the house.” They walked through the parking lot and as they turned down an aisle, Steve subtly checked that they weren’t being followed while an unaware (Y/N) continued to talk. “Sam thinks that music from that era is too cheesy, but this is also the guy who thinks that Marvin Gaye’s better than Jimi Hendrix so what the hell does he know?” He stopped beside his motorcycle and she sucked in a quick breath. “Is this yours?”

“Yep, it’s a Harley-Davidson Street 750. The one back there in the exhibit’s a Harley, too, a modified ’42 WLA Liberator. I’ve always preferred motorcycles to cars, so it was nice to see that they haven’t changed too much over the-” The rest of his sentence died in his throat when he caught sight of the unreadable expression on (Y/N)’s face, and his heart instantly plummeted in his chest. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you that I didn’t have a car. If you’re not comfortable with-”

“No, no, it’s okay, I’ve always wanted to ride a motorcycle!” (Y/N)’s exclamation took him by surprise, but he managed to return her excited smile with one of his own. “Do you have a spare helmet?” He pulled a helmet out of the bike’s back compartment and tossed his baseball cap into it, trying his best not to think about how cute she looked when she placed the helmet on her head. “Wait, what about yours?”

Steve flashed her a teasing grin. “Super-soldier, remember?” She rolled her eyes as he swung a leg over the bike and sat, giving the empty space behind him a pat before placing his hands back on the handlebars. “Hop on.” She followed his direction with less than perfect grace, doing her best to respect his personal space while also trying her hardest not to fall flat on her face, and Steve bit back a smile as he watched her progress in the rearview mirror. “I’ll be able to hear you over the engine noise, so feel free to give directions as we go. And make sure to hold on tight, okay?”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

Chuckling, Steve revved up the engine and backed out of the parking spot; the writer seated behind him predictably panicked at the sudden movement and involuntarily moved her hands from beneath her seat to rest on his waist, causing Steve to blush as he gently took hold of her hands and guided her to wrap her arms around his torso. If he weren’t a super-soldier with heightened abilities, he almost certainly would’ve crashed the motorcycle because of how distracted he found himself by (Y/N)’s presence. He could feel the warmth of her body through his jacket and smell the faint scent of her perfume as she clung onto him and on a wild impulse, he sped up and grinned when she shrieked in delight and tightened her hold on him. True to his word, he heard her give him directions amidst her laughter and much to his disappointment, they reached the VA in under fifteen minutes.

Steve parked the motorcycle in front of the building and switched off the engine before turning in his seat to look at his beaming passenger. “So, how was your first ever motorcycle ride?”

“Amazing!” She held onto his shoulders as she clambered off the bike and removed the helmet. “I might even have to trade in my baby for one!” Steve’s eyes widened at her remark, and she hastily shook her head. “No, no, that’s just my dumb nickname for my Volkswagen Bug! I don’t have an actual baby, of course, and if I did I certainly wouldn’t trade it…um, so yeah, no baby…and no guy, either, in case you were wondering. I’m single, single like a Pringle.” (Y/N) cringed at her own words and dropped her head in her hand to avoid eye-contact. “You can stop my dumb rambling anytime now, Steve…”

Steve’s grin widened. “Don’t worry, it’s not dumb. Entertaining, yeah, but definitely not dumb.”

The writer shot him a glare that would’ve intimidated him if it hadn’t looked so adorable on her. “You know, you’re a lot more of a pain in the ass than the history books make you out to be.”

Just as he was prepared to say something flirtatious, his cell phone chimed with a notification and when he looked to see what it was, his heart sank in his chest and reality came crashing back down on him.

Nurse Alia: Mrs. Carter’s been having a rough day. Might do her some good to see an old familiar face.

Steve tucked his cell phone back into his pocket and looked back up at a confused (Y/N) with an apologetic expression on his face. “I’m sorry but I’ve gotta go, something just came up. I’ll try and make it for the end of the meeting, though.”

“Okay, I’ll be sure to let Sam know!” Their fingers brushed as he took the helmet from her and stowed it away, and she gave him a half-hearted wave as he revved the engine and backed out of the parking spot. He returned her wave and sped off down the street, the image of (Y/N) standing by herself on the sidewalk with a befuddled expression on her face burned into his memory while he navigated the streets of D.C. to reach Peggy’s retirement home. But while he drove, he recalled the way his heart lurched when (Y/N) smiled at him, how lovely her laughter sounded as he gave her her first ride on a motorcycle and just how – for the briefest of moments – he hadn’t felt so alone and unseen. Like sunshine breaking through a cloudy sky, he thought to himself once again, resolving to see the writer who uncovered Steve Rogers from beneath the façade of Captain America again as soon as he could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

A/N: This was my first time writing from Steve’s POV, so let me know how you liked it so I can decide if I wanna write from his POV in a future one-shot! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, and I hope that you enjoyed it!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part I)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

Stumblin’ In Book I: “The Winter Soldier” Masterlist

Tagging:  @mrs-obrien​​​ @lahoete​​​ @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk​​ @momc95​​​ @savedbystyle​​​ @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​ @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove​​​ @brooke0297​​​ @hufflepeople​​​ @becausewelie​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​ @junipermurdock​​​ @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley​​​ @username23345 @crist1216​​​ @capswife​​​ @lilmschild​​​ @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell​​​ @y-napotat​​​ @mary1raven​​​ @groovy-lady​​​ @ljej95​​​ @innersublimefury​​​ @prettysbliss​​​​  

#stumblin in #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers #captain america #sam wilson #falcon #natasha romanoff #black widow #peggy carter #director carter #nick fury #director fury #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe

[minisnacc]

First time ever writing something like this on Tumblr, so it’s most likely hella messy because this is just a very IMPROMPTU BRAINSTORM :( I also got the German translations for stuff from a friend who lives in Germany :) ((he says, and I quote, if you need anything in German I’ll be your guy))

Anyways,

Imagine ‘Teenage Dirtbag’ Loser!Konig, Yknow, the kinda guy that’s like ‘I listen to rock hurrhurr no one understands me hurrhurr’ the ‘NEVER interacts with anyone (other than his best friend Hong Jin) ESPECIALLY women’ trope.

Like imagine König with a wardrobe FULL of band shirts, and ripped tank tops, and he’s obviously got a bass guitar, his dorm room is filled with band posters and he has medium length hair, and he like, never ever interacts with women cause ‘he’s not like that’ ((sure bud, sure)) and he only ever listens to rock and metal to ‘drown the voices out’ ((definitely not cause he’s edgy or anything 🙄🙄🙄))

Sees you, who has the smile of an angel, and at first tells himself he’s DEFINITELY not enamoured by you, your laugh, giggles, the way you speak, the way you just… are.

“Agh, nein, I’ve just been lonely, these are just delusions, why the hell would she be into me anyway,” shakes it off and goes back to his dorm and goes to sleep thinking about you (because well, he was… trying NOT to think about you).

Sees you repeatedly on campus, like as if you’re TAUNTING him with your presence, and he then begins actively avoiding the places you frequent, like the library, the canteen, even starts sitting on the COMPLETE opposite end of the classes you share with him, to the point where even you notice it.

Now you.

You, who have been hypnotised by this behemoth of a man wandering around campus, in his band shirts (and your personal favourite, his tank tops, cause, you know, his big meaty arms…), and think to yourself that someone as cool and attractive as he is would NEVER be into you anyway.

The way he always chuckles deeply at what his friend says, this Hong Jin guy (who you think you kinda have a crush on too, ugh, why are there so many cute guys on campus?), and the way he flips his hair out of the way when it gets into his face, sooooo majestically… (okay, so you might be slightly delusional, so what?)

One day you notice he starts… disappearing from the campus… like there’s a lack of presence from him. How? He’s like, the Hulk 2.0, HOW IS HE GONE??

So you start actively going out of your way to ‘bump’ into him. You go to places where you think he’d be on campus - to classes you KNOW he has, with the excuse that you’re there to say hi to a friend, or to the vending machines scattered throughout the compound, cause he loves his canned drinks, and even to the GYM, just lurking around long enough till the staff ask if you’d like a membership (to which you sheepishly decline, then scurry away).

Two whole weeks go by and you begin to think he doesn’t like you, and in fact, think he HATES you.

Then you see Hong Jin, by a vending machine, alone. You stare at him for a good minute, contemplating on whether to just approach him outright and ask him about König. You vigorously shake your head, hype yourself up, and approach him at an alarmingly quick pace, to which he notices, and is startled when you abruptly stop right in front of him, interrupting him as he chooses his drink.

“Jin, right? Nice to meet you, does König hate me?” You ask, almost rapping it like as if you had 1 second left to live, eyes wide and brows furrowed.

Jin simply looks at you, flabbergasted, so shocked because that was NOT what he expected to be asked today. Or by anyone. Or by YOU. The girl König had been talking about, the one he said he thought looked ‘kinda cute’, which, he never ever says, cause he’s way too busy raving about new albums or songs or his new PR at the gym.

He chuckles, which then turns into a laugh, as he looks at you through forming tears. You feel like a puppy with its tail tucked in between its legs, shy, scared that you pissed him off with your (unintentional) direct attitude.

“You’re funny, you know that?” Jin says, wiping away a tear, his laughs tapering off. “To answer your question, no, he doesn’t hate you,” he smiles, a glint in his eyes… a hint of deviousness, you decipher.

“Let me let you in on a little secret,” he leans in close, to your ear, and takes a quick glance to his left and right, “Reason he’s not been around is cause he reeeeeaaaaaaaalllllyyyyyyyyyy likes you,” he drags the word out, taunting you almost, and you jerk your head back and look at him dead in the eyes.

“Really?” You whisper, a smile creeping on your lips.

So this guy liked you this entire time? Who would’ve thought?!

“Yeah at one point he couldn’t shut up about you,” he grins, gaze shifting behind you, his voice now louder than before, “Oh, and don’t tell him I told you this, but he LoooooOooOOOOves thinking about you at night,” Jin leans backwards to an upright standing position, and smirks in the direction behind you.

You turn, and see Konig standing behind you, eyes blown wide, mouth slightly agape, frowning. You can’t tell if he’s shocked, mad, flustered, or all three.

“Oh, right, and I think you’re real cute too,” like pouring gasoline on an already ABSOLUTELY BLAZING DUMPSTER FIRE, you see König’s face shift to that of anger.

You can physically see him tense up and turn red, and the once stoic giant you (thought) you knew explodes, “HÄ?! DIGGA WAS MACHST DU?!” he practically screams.

You flinch, instinctually, from the giant getting mad, like he’ll actually charge straight through you to get to his best friend. König notices when he glances over to you, and loosens his body a little, as well as his expression, but still maintains a glare at Jin.

The Korean man taps you twice on your shoulder, dragging your attention back to him, and he winks at you, “good luck,” he clicks his tongue twice, and promptly RUNS away (rightfully so, or he would’ve been ripped apart by the angry Austrian), leaving you and König alone together.

You’re frozen in place. Don’t even turn around to look at your crush. Well, more like can’t.

His best friend just admitted to the fact that he likes you… like, REALLY likes you. Your mind races with so many thoughts, like, what did Jin mean by König thinking about you at night?? And why did he not shut up about you??? Is this real?? Is this a dream??

A loud sigh interrupts your train of thought, urging you to look behind you.

“Sorry,” König says so quietly it almost sounded like a whisper. He looked like a kicked puppy. Then, a moment of awkward silence. Your eyes dart EVERYWHERE but at him, you don’t even know if you can bring yourself to look at him, such a pitiful sight, but you do, and your heart aches. His eyes are glued to the ground.

It looks like he thinks you hate him, almost like as if he’s holding back tears and ready to beg for your forgiveness for being such a fucking creep, for being such a loser in love with someone like you, and you deserve someone soooo much more manly and cool and handsome and actually likes something other than dumb songs and dumb drinks and dumb gymming routines and…

“Hey, it’s alright,” you break the silence, approaching him slowly, “If it makes you feel any better I really like you too,” you smile softly, offering comfort. You look up to the poor man, into his eyes, and take his hand gently.

You wipe his shame away with those words, and there is a spark in his eyes, which you notice.

“Wirklich?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t believe how much I think about you too,” you blush, now you’re shy, because this is way too much for one small meeting. You’re pouring out intimate secrets to him, ABOUT HIM, while he very very very intently listens.

Again, there’s silence, and it’s a little awkward, considering now you both are in close proximity, being intimate, your neck craned upwards just to be able to maintain eye contact with this giant (HES a tree, you swear).

“So, uh,” König gulps, now taking your hands in his, “Wanna come have dinner with me?” He asks, slight blush dusting his cheeks, “At… my place?” He smiles.

#konig x you #konig x reader #konig cod #konig headcanons

[cooking-with-hailstones]

I’m curious, what do you think about Zelda games and continuity in general? I know one point of contention with BOTW/TOTK is the “lack” of continuity which yeah, i get it. It could be better. However the Zelda series is not known for its continuity lol. Like, take OOT and MM for example. MM is supposed to be a sequel to OOT, right? Well, tbh it’s not a very good one. Besides the fact that Link is the same one from oot, and the happy mask salesman and skull kid return, it feels really disconnected from its predecessor. I think Twilight Princess fits more as a sequel to OOT than MM. I could go on and on but what are your thoughts?

Very good question! So yeah, I know that the Zelda games give 0 craps about consistent lore or continuity, which is fine! I think they put forward a lot of different and interesting ideas. As a fandom, and especially as writers, we can treat it like a buffet of ideas to sample and play around with.

You raise an interesting point with oot/mm. I think the difference between oot/mm is the fact that they have very little in common with each other. New map, new characters, a completely different concept. There's a lot of mechanics that are the same but it really feels like you're in a new universe with the same aesthetics as the previous one, and that's about it.

I think TOTK stands out to people because it is a direct sequel with only a few years between them in-universe, but there is very little story, lore, and setting continuity between botw and totk. If it were a whole new game with a new slate of characters and a new map, I don't think the discrepancies would feel as jarring. That being said, I really love totk as a game! It's fantastic and I've sunk at least 100 hours in.

However, botw remains my favourite game because: botw is a gesamkunstwerk. TOTK is not a gesamkunstwerk.

And now here's my very long tangent about this:

I'm sure I've seen a video talking about this idea before but basically, a gesamkunstwerk is a German term for "total work of art." Coined by the composer Richard Wagner (whom we do not like, but his ideas were very influential), a gesamkunstwerk is a large scale work where everything reinforces each other. It is "a work of art that makes use of all or many art forms, or strives to do so." So in opera, for example, this would be how the orchestra, the costumes, the text, the music, the set pieces, everything comes together to tell one unified story.

I believe botw is a good example of a gesamkunstwerk: the open world setting serves the narrative framework, the Sheikah technology is incorporated seamlessly into the game mechanics, the story is scattered throughout the world for you to discover, but everything is still centered around your final goal and the narrative arc you're meant to travel. You're meant to explore, meet people, hone your skills, then face off against the final foe that you've been staring in the face for the whole game. You're meant to discover the world, to do all these things, as the player and as Link. Everything in botw reinforces everything else. It's not a perfect game by any means but it is incredibly well crafted.

And while totk improves on all the things in BOTW, it loses the cohesiveness that tied the first game together. I find that totk fights itself in a lot of ways. It didn't commit to being a linear game but it clearly has a linear path in mind (hello dragons tears...I am so glad a friend of mine told me to do them in order) The integration of zonai and Sheikah mechanics made no sense to me. The sages... Good gravy the sages...

Anyways this turned into a much longer post than I intended, but I hope this all made sense.

#Emily talks #asks #Anon #thanks for the ask! #breath of the wild #tears of the Kingdom #legend of Zelda #legend of Zelda lore #continuity #storytelling #loz #botw #TOTK #vaguely totk critical

[ariel-seagull-wings]

THE BLUE LIGHT

@tamisdava2 @adarkrainbow @faintingheroine @princesssarisa @softlytowardthesun @grimoireoffolkloreandfairytales @themousefromfantasyland @the-blue-fairie @professorlehnsherr-almashy

(German folktale collected by the Brothers Grimm)

Once upon a time there was a king who had a soldier as a servant. When he became old and useless, the king sent him away, giving him nothing.

Because he did not know how he could earn a living, he sadly walked the whole day long, coming to a forest in the evening.

After walking a little while he saw a light. He approached it and came to a little house, where a witch lived. He asked for a night's shelter and a little to eat and drink, but she refused him.

Finally she said, "But I will have pity and take you in after all. However, tomorrow you must dig up my entire garden."

The soldier promised and was taken in. The next day he hoed up the witch's garden. The work lasted until evening, and then she wanted to send him away.

But he said, "I am so tired. Let me stay one more night here." At first she refused, but finally she agreed, if the next day he would split a stack of wood.

The second day the soldier chopped the wood, and by evening he had worked so hard that he could not continue on his way, so he asked for a third night.

In return, the next day he was to get the blue light from her well.

Then the witch led him to a well and tied him to a long rope, with which she lowered down. He found the blue light and gave the sign that she should pull him up again.

And she did pull him up, but when he was at the edge, so close that they could touch each other's hands, she wanted to have the light, and then to let him fall back down.

But he sensed her evil thoughts, and said, "No, I shall not give you the light until I am standing on the ground with my feet." Then the witch became angry and pushed him, together with the light, down into the well, and walked away

The soldier, down there in the dark, damp morass, was sad, for his end was near.

Then he touched his pipe with his hand. It was still half full, and he thought, "Have one last pleasure, and smoke it empty." So he lit it with the blue light and began to smoke.

After the fumes had wafted about somewhat, a little black dwarf came up to him and asked, "Master, what do you command? I must serve you in every way."

"Above all else, help me out of this well."

So the black dwarf took him by the hand and led him out, and they took the blue light with them.

When they were above ground, the soldier said, "Now strike the witch dead for me." As soon as the dwarf had done that, he showed him the witch's treasures and gold, which the soldier loaded up and took with him.

Then the dwarf said, "If you need me, just light your pipe with the blue light."

After that the soldier went to the city and moved into the best inn. He had beautiful clothes made for himself and furnished his room magnificently.

When it was finished he summoned the black dwarf and said, "The king sent me away to starve, because I was no longer able to serve him. Bring his daughter to me this evening. She shall wait on me and do whatever I tell her to do."

The dwarf said, "That is a dangerous thing."

But still he went and got the king's daughter from her bed and brought her in her sleep to the soldier. She had to obey him and do whatever he wanted. In the morning before the cock crowed, the dwarf carried her back.

After she had gotten up, she said to her father, "Last night I had an amazing dream. It was as though I were taken away, and became a soldier's maid, and had to wait on him."

Then the king said, "Fill your pocket with peas and make a hole in it. The dream could be true, then they will fall out and leave a track on the street.

So she did just that, but the dwarf had heard what her father had advised her.

When evening came and the soldier told the dwarf to get the king's daughter once again, the dwarf scattered peas throughout the whole city, and the few that fell out of her pocket did not leave a track.

People spent the entire next day gathering peas.

Once again the princess told her father what had happened to her, and he said, "Keep one shoe on and secretly hide it where you are."

The black dwarf overheard this, and when the soldier again wanted the king's daughter brought to him, the dwarf said to him, "I can no longer help you. If you are caught, it will be your downfall."

But the soldier insisted.

"Then get yourself outside the city gate early tomorrow morning," said the dwarf, "as soon as I have carried her away."

Now the princess kept one shoe on and hid it in the soldier's bed.

The next morning, after she was again with her father, he had the entire city searched for the shoe, and it was found in the soldier's room.

The soldier had fled, but they soon overtook him and threw him into a secure prison.

There he sat in bonds and chains, and in his haste to flee, he had forgotten to take along his most valuable things: the blue light and the gold. He had only one ducat.

Standing sadly at the window of his prison, he saw a comrade walking by.

He called out to him, saying, "If you will bring me the little bundle that I left at the inn, I'll give you a ducat."

So for the ducat he went and brought him the blue light and the gold.

The prisoner immediately lit his pipe and summoned the black dwarf, who said to him, "Have no fear. Go peacefully to the court and let everything happen, but take the blue light with you."

Then he was tried and sentenced to be hanged on the gallows. As he was being led out, he asked the king for a wish.

"What sort of a wish?" asked the latter.

"That I might smoke one more pipe on the way."

"You can smoke three, if you want to," said the king.

Then he pulled out his pipe and lit it with the little blue flame.

The black dwarf stepped immediately before him.

"Strike everyone dead for me," said the soldier, "and the king into three pieces."

Thus the dwarf set forth and struck dead the people all around. The king begged for mercy, and in order to save his life, he gave to the soldier his kingdom as well as his daughter for a wife.

#fantasy #literature #folklore #fairy tales #folktales #characters inspiration #inspiration station #brothers grimm #germany

[mapsontheweb]

Italian is the mother tongue of about 90% of the population in Italy. The remaining 10%, about 6 million, has a different mother tongue: this is the case of immigrants and linguistic minorities. Excluding all regional languages (eg Sicilian, Friulian, Sardinian), let's take a look at the linguistic diversity in Italy.

by mappaitalia

🇷🇴 Romanian - 1.3 mln It is by far the most talked about. It is the most widespread in 7 regions, and the second most widespread in the other 13. It is spoken by Romanian and Moldovan immigrants.

🇵🇸 Arabic - 750 thousand Widespread especially in the North, it is spoken by immigrants from the Maghreb (especially Morocco and Tunisia), but also from Egypt and the Middle East.

🇦🇱 Albanian - 600 thousand Of these, 500,000 are Albanian and Kosovar immigrants, while 100,000 belong to the native Arbëreshë linguistic minority. Widespread mainly in the South, where it is in first place due to a more massive presence of arbëreshë.

🇩🇪 German - 400 thousand He is native to the province of Bolzano, but is still a minority (36%) of the total of the Trentino-Alto Adige region. To the 335 thousand German-speaking South Tyroleans are added minorities scattered throughout the North, and German and Austrian immigrants.

🇪🇸 Spanish - 380 thousand Majority in Liguria, it is mainly spoken by South American and Spanish immigrants.

🇨🇳 Chinese - 330 thousand It is spoken mainly in the North and especially in Tuscany, where it permanently occupies the first place. In addition to Standard Mandarin, many Chinese immigrants also speak Cantonese and Wu.

🇺🇦 Ukrainian - 200 thousand It occupies the first place in Campania, and is destined to grow due to recent tragic events. It is spoken by about ¾ of Ukrainian immigrants, while the remaining ¼ are native Russian speakers. 🇧🇩 Bengali - 180 thousand It is the mother tongue of immigrants from Bangladesh and some parts of India. It does not occupy the first place in any region.

🇫🇷 French - 110 thousand It is spoken above all in Valdaosta, where it coexists in Diglossia with Franco-Provençal, and in the border areas of Piedmont and Liguria.

🇸🇮 Slovenian - 100 thousand It is mainly found in Friuli Venezia Giulia, on the border with Slovenia.

#maps #italy #languages

[vamossainz55]

Puppy Love (1.3k) | Mick Schumacher x Reader

req from anon: mick would be the cutest hopeless romantic bf. like you know how I’m rom com books/movies the guy is head over heels for their lover. sweet angel mick picking ur fav flowers and a whole movie marathon for you, just because 😌

a/n: tysm for the request!! ahhh i get so happy and excited that i literally need to write it right away. i did a bit of a twist? did i get carried away? maybe. but golden retriever mick energy for sure (so basically canon). i refuse to believe he would be any other way and he would basically move mountains and oceans for you. he'd adore you. anyways first non-carlos fic? published at least hehe. okay that is all. i hope u enjoy anon <3. (sorry i didnt do the movie marathon but i threw it a little in there)

warnings: none. just tooth-rotting fluff really. oh and late night writing so pls lmk if there are any mistakes <3

reqs are currently open

gif credit to acrosstobear

You had your fair share of shitty boyfriends throughout the years but every moment you spent with Mick made you realize the wait was definitely worth it. 

It was the first date that really gave you a hint. The way he had knocked on your door instead of waiting in the car. The way he happily introduced himself to your parents, promising with his sweet smile to return you home by your curfew, and he did. 

You joked with your friends, how it wouldn’t last long, and deep down you were scared for a bit but there wasn’t a single day that the German boy proved differently. Even when he finally got his seat in F1, he never failed to show you that you were his main priority. 

“I can’t wait to see you, my love,” Your boyfriend says, and you can’t help but smile at the small pixelated video of him on your phone. He had one more race before the summer break- and you had tried your best to make it but your boss had set a last minute meeting that made it impossible for you to get there in time. 

“Can’t wait to see you too babes,” You promise, sending kisses through the screen as you hear someone call for him in the background. You see Mick pout, telling whoever in the team to give him five more minutes and you can’t help but smile fondly. “Please go, they’re gonna hate me at this point.” You laugh, since you both well know this was his third time asking for more time. 

“Fine, fine.” he says with a sigh before giving you a quick wave. “I love you.” He says making you smile and he waits before hanging up wanting to hear your reply. Of course you say it back. 

_________

You come home a bit later than expected and you’re a bit frazzled, you need to go pick up Mick at the airport early in the morning so you had hoped to get some cleaning around your apartment but you were exhausted. You quietly slip off your shoes and hang your keys on the small hook by the mirror before turning on the lights.

Your bag hits the floor the same time you look up and you can’t help but freeze, seeing the whole apartment tidied up and what? The clothes that were scattered around your living room were all gone, your books were all placed neatly in the shelves, and you even notice that the plants look a bit more freshened up. 

Soon you see a blonde mop of hair and blue eyes peeking from the kitchen. “Surprise!” And you can’t help but feel your chest swell. Mick’s coming at you at full force and you’re engulfed in his arms. 

“Oh my god,” You say with a laugh, holding onto him tight as he lifts you up in the air. He takes this opportunity to spin you before carrying you to the couch. “What the hell?” You say once he sits down. He makes sure to rest you on his lap, and can’t help but run his hand on your thigh as you instinctively straddle him. You’re cupping his cheeks with a wide smile, looking over his eyes.

“You’re a doofus. Weren’t you supposed to be here tomorrow?” You ask, still grinning from ear to ear. He barely has time to answer before you’re peppering his lips with kisses and he’s never one to complain, making sure to return every single peck back. “Oh my god,” You say, still stunned. 

“Managed to get an earlier flight,” he says with a smile, this time cupping your cheeks to look over your face endearingly and the look he gives you makes you want to cry. 

“I ordered your favorite take out.” He says with a smile, “and I’ve loaded up your favorite movie.” He says and you shake your head. 

“Aren’t you tired?” You ask with a laugh and he rolls his eyes. 

“Never too tired for you.” He says before gently setting you to the side. “Now you sit down and relax. You’ve had a long day.” He says, gently turning you so you are facing the coffee table. You bite the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from smiling when you find your favorite daffodils sitting nicely on the coffee table along with a pack of your favorite chips along with your favorite chocolate bar. 

“I’m back.” Mick smiles, soon carrying to the table the take out from your favorite asian restaurant along with a glass of wine. He sets it down on the table in front of you before rushing to get his own. You open your container once he’s seated next to you and smile. Of course he ordered you fried rice with sweet and sour chicken. 

“I got it right?” He asks curiously and you can’t help but roll your eyes fondly. When did he ever get it wrong?

“No peas too,” You say with a laugh before looking at him. “What did I do to deserve you?” You ask with a smile. He gives you a bashful and shy shrug before he’s telling you all about his race and how he had thought he had completely bottled it before ending in the points and you just can’t help but think how easy it is. 

You snuggle into Mick’s side on the couch later that night, Mick being completely out before the movie had ended. You could tell he was tired from traveling and setting everything up. Quickly you check his phone, wanting to plug it in before it died but you accidentally unlock it with your thumb and you had almost forgotten that you had to try to convince Mick to get a new phone. 

You furrow your brows when his phone instantly opens to the notes app with a note already open, but soon you’re smiling quietly to yourself when you notice the title. ‘yn’s favorite things and everything i love about her’. You let out a quiet but breathless laugh as you go to plug in his phone.

“Baby, stay.” Mick grumbles, soon pulling you in again and you can’t help but give in, snuggling into his side again and you swear your heart grows two sizes. You’re so inlove with him that it almost hurts. 

“I’d never leave you, don’t worry.” You say softly, giving his cheek a gentle kiss before pulling one of your blankets over you both. He lets out a satisfied but sleepy sigh, murmuring something in his sleep before pulling you closer. 

(And if Mick was tired from having spent almost three hours looking for the perfect daffodils for you since most stores were out of stock, nobody needed to know. The way you smiled at him when you saw them was already enough.)

a/n: once again as always tysm for reading hope you enjoy <3. i am enjoying a lot doing reqs atm so please know there are still open.

interested in reading more? check my masterlist.

#mick schumacher #mick x reader #mick schumacher x reader #formula one x reader #formula one x you #mick schumacher one shot #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher fanfic #mick schumacher x you #vamossainz55 reqs

[prettyeyesnof4ce]

Seat Taken

Matt Murdock x f!reader

Summary: After he endures a rough night, you remind Matt there are better ways to recover further than rest.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/Tags: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Pining for Matt, Oral Sex (m receiving), Dry Humping, Edging, (MDNI),Whiny Baby Matt

A/N: This might be a little self indulgent but idc, I enjoyed writing a hurt Matt begging to feel good :)

Read on AO3

The comforting scent of your lover was the first thing you were affectionately met with before your eyes adjusted. It never failed to ease your mind at the cruel early hours of the morning, who knew a simple duvet could be so calming. 

It was like that every day, which you gratefully thanked. However, not this cool autumn morning, as your senses were greeted to copper and tiger balm.

Matt was scraped, exerted and exhausted this time. As much as he tried to convince you otherwise, you believed the quickest remedy for a rough night was snuggling him to death beneath the sheets. Of course he adored your methods, but he was the logical type, having faith in simple solutions like painkillers or a middle-of-the-day beer. 

But, today was the day he would be reminded by you that there’s better ways to recover, and not just being the dominant big spoon to his little one.

Trudging out of the bed, and from your grasp, he grunted at the shoulder wound he had sustained. Shallow enough, you made short work of it just hours previous, stitching him as clean as your disrupted slumber would allow. 

Trudging out of the bed, and from your grasp, he grunted at the shoulder wound he had sustained. Shallow enough, you made short work of it just hours previous, stitching him as clean as your disrupted slumber would allow. 

Your head rose from the pillow “Be careful that you pop it open” you mumbled, even if he knew that already. He’d often underestimate that he was a human of flesh and blood, not some bodiless martyr who didn’t have to worry about experiencing pain.

“Yeah yeah” He motioned that he understood with the flail of his right hand. 

A smirk would arise from you, as you savored the scent of the pillow against your face.

Standing high on the ball of your feet, you brewed a plan to help your battered partner, watching as he sauntered off to the kitchen for a drink. 

The scars and bruises that lay scattered along his back and neck never failed to rouse you, the way they moved with Matt’s skin as he stretched his muscles and brolic frame. He didn’t deserve anything less than special treatment for his hard work, you thought.

Stretching for a considerably long time, you gave chase toward the kitchen behind your limping duck. He was too occupied with the pounding sensation in his muscles and temples to sense your secondary agenda.

Having cracked open the beer with his teeth, bottle cap circulating the counter aimlessly, a sigh would suffice after a much needed first sip. 

“Shitty german beer is the cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast, huh?” you swept behind him, hands finding their landing gently atop both heated shoulders.

“God, why does everyone say that?” Matt almost spat as he chuckled, baffled that you would insult his beloved go-to remedy. His laugh seemed to reverberate throughout his body as your ear pressed into his back. 

Giving a muffled response, your arms wrapped tighter across his chest “Just saying, you could do better.” 

Your eyes meandered across his taut, scarred skin, soaking in the moment of having him so close. The man dedicated to jumping rooftops and holding the weight of this city’s safety on the shoulders you kissed. 

An irrefutable plan aligned with your thoughts.

“Why don’t you lay down?” Pecking another kiss to his neck, you pushed him past the counter, walking with him to the couch. While loathing the way you felt watching him practically limp, you simultaneously retained the eager urge to take the pain away, even just for a moment.

Beer still in hand, he steadied it on his chest, groaning on the way down as he parked himself. The couch pillow would suffice in supporting his head. He looked so pretty from your angle, hair parted across the forehead in a halo, strewn out resembling a fallen angel. 

Kneeling down beside him, you admired further, earning a silent grin of acknowledgment from Matt. It was often that he appreciated your reassuring eyes, it told him that you loved what you saw, despite the harrowing thoughts he met frequently about his appearance.

You began studying the stitch job having been managed earlier “How does this feel’ grazing a finger around the warm skin, careful not to apply too much pressure.

Wincing slightly after taking another swig, he brought up a hand slowly to rub your arm.

“Bearable, thanks to you.” He grinned cutely.

“But it could be better, right?” 

“No, no, you do it well, honey–’’

“I’m not talking about the stitches…”  You tried to make him understand just what you were insinuating.

His expression read that he wasn’t quite on the same page, yet a love-drunk smirk remained, amused at your lingering presence. Heat bunched around your face, trying to figure out where to lead next. 

Praying he finally picked up on your heightened temperature, you took initiative, if your tone and body language weren’t enough of a hint.

You stood up straight off your knees, posture much like a soldier as you stared down at the comfortable outstretched man.

 “Excuse me, is this seat taken?” 

Amusement would be replaced with puzzle “Baby, wh–” his quant confusion followed with lost words were silenced by the shuffling of feet below. Reaching one leg up and over, you began assuming the position to straddle Matt.

With your legs bent and pelvis methodically rested just below his crotch, you didn’t require acute hearing to notice Matt stifle a breath. 

Poor little Matty’s mouth was agape, hands trying to remain stagnant at his sides, afraid what they’ll do once groped around your hips. He took a moment to collect himself, hoisting any shred of wit from the abyss, because all he could focus on was the aggressive heat signature right in front of him.

“Ma’am, I don’t think you’re sitting correctly” He dryly chuckled, flicking his tongue out to wet his lip.

A devilish scoff would emerge from you, to the excitement of Matt as his chest rose and fell quickly.

“Oh, you mean like this” Scooting upward, you sighed right before settling down on him, pussy finding some semi-hard stability to rest on.

Mouth still teetering from open to shut, Matt grunted at the warmth his cock received, the best aid in hardening the rest of the way. Groaning at the contact, you loved the sheer feeling of his blood rushing into the muscle below.

A moment came and went before Matt spoke his racing mind.“I appreciate this, but, ‘m a little too sore right now, sweetheart,” he grinned, coupled by a whiff of dismay. 

Your eyes rolled, courtesy of your own impatience “ who said anything about you doing the work?”

Reaching down with a welcoming smile, Matt joined you in a much-awaited kiss, growing sloppier by the second. He wanted nothing more than to touch you, beginning to raise his hands in effort to cup your face, until you stopped him. 

“Nuh-uh, rest, baby” you mumbled against his lips, setting his arms down.

At the thud of his limbs against the leather, he huffed in anticipation as you began the circular drone of your hips. The rock solidity below felt white hot against the throb of your cunt, Matt definitely feeling it, entrancing him.

He threw his head back, jaw twitching in unison to his widened mouth at the velvet friction. Steady whimpers danced off those flushed, whore-ish lips he owned, feigning to string words together. 

“Baby–please…” His pleas were translated instantaneously into silk to your ears, chewing your lip ever so slightly. He sounded adorable under your spell.

“Tell me what you need, Matty.” you silently managed, speech starting to fail you as well. Steadying yourself by placing both hands on his kneecaps, you reached into that animalistic side and drilled harder against his cock, now creating a rhythm.

It was getting difficult to focus, his eyebrows now stitched together simply at how great the fabric melding with the force you provided felt. Soon the arousal seeping out of you gave way through your underwear with the help of friction, Matt adding that wet texture to his mental list of word obstruction.

Eyes rolling back into shut lids, he was utterly lost in the pleasure. “Don’t stop, angel” 

His hands were clammy, a sheen of perspiration covering his already warm, sore skin. Taking notice of their boredom, you grabbed both and led them up the trail of your torso to your breasts. Something to fondle as every stroke of your hips caused near insanity, heat building rapidly in either of your abdomen.

Lower lip tucked uneven by his teeth, Matt couldn’t help but match your rhythm, even if it was a miniscule attempt. Pre-cum was well soaked into his boxers, every jut of his own hips causing more to leak. His cheeks were stained pink, low pants and tensing belly reading clear he was to cum any moment.

Although it was a damn near perfect feeling knowing he’s enjoying it, you couldn’t resist giving him more. Even if it meant halting your own climax, today was supposed to be about him in particular.

His palms and fingertips were glued to the hot flesh of your thighs, prepared to grope them to tide himself in during the inevitable. Bracing yourself for his disappointment, you slowed your thrusts. With the loss of that passion came his incessant whining.

“Baby–no–please…” Matt’s tone was high pitched, betrayal scribbled in those hungry eyes. His dick rutted up into nothing after you removed yourself, sighing deeply at the loss of your comforting warmth. You crept away as best you could, legs trembling slightly while you positioned between his thighs.

“Aw, were you close?” Mocking in a similar pitch, your fingers glided across his waistband side to side.

All he could manage was a strangled scoff, flailing a hand in exhaustion. He looked right on the brink of tearshed, a lonely frown accompanied by a tortured glint in his eye. ‘Cause edging your lover at a time like this was pure evil, he thought.

“I’ll give you somewhere better to finish, wait, baby.” 

Your fingers tickled as they went below the hem, pulling the boxers just low enough for Matt’s weeping cock to make its reveal.

Grunting open mouthed at the sudden air meeting his wetted tip, he felt it pulsate with need. It ached to be tugged and made cum.

 “ ‘m so hard f’ you, please, let me cum” he begged, in the same tone as previous, involuntarily twitching his pelvis upward. The burning that stilled in his stomach was slipping away, it made his head spin at the loss.

Having enough with his torturous whining, you genorously gripped the base, hollowing your mouth. The sound of your tongue flicking just outside your lip caused a soft grunt from Matt, ready to feel you whole. Tasting your scent in the air, he could sense the longing in the way you arched your back below him, that mental image proving deadly once your lips were attached.

A curse would fall from the edged man after you smeared the still pumping pre-cum all over your tongue. Licking his tip clean, you took the first couple inches, moaning as you sucked gently. You now felt the desperation of his cock once in your mouth, veins pulsing under your tongue. 

Now receiving the pleasure he yearned for again, Matt was completely blissed out, groaning as his hand found your hair. “ don’t stop, don’t stop–” he found himself whimpering as the fire returned to his being.

Sheathing most of his member into your throat, your hand stroked the base as you kept a rhythm with the pump of your lips. This combo proved just about enough for Matt, bucking his hips with your rough mannerisms. Tears began to blur your vision, even behind tightened lids, grunting as you bobbed faster. 

The noises were obscene, so much so that they were all he needed. Matt’s jaw would widen as he cried out, face-fucking you as he fell hard into climax. Like clockwork, your jaw was sore, but the sensation of his cum enveloping your tongue before swallowing made it bearable. You jerked him off as you guided him the rest of the way, sitting up to watch the last drops of fluid coat the pink tip. 

Matt groaned as his breath began to steady, drenched in sweat. Your perfect angel was now corrupt, hair clinging to his temples, vulnerable as his cock softened before you. 

“Feeling better now?” you giggled while wiping your stained mouth as best you could.

Even if you too were spent, it only mattered if Matt was satisfied with his care.

“100 percent, thank you” he quietly said, puckering his needy lips to motion you back to him. Happily obliging, you kissed him hard, moving the strands of hair away from his forehead.

“Let’s get you into the shower next, hm?”

any and all feedback is appreciated !

(I do not give permission for this or any of my work to be reposted elsewhere without my consent)

prettyeyesnof4ce © 2022

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock

[stoned-eren]

aot characters and pets they'd have

eren: 100% owns a bird. would probably own a parrot bird like a lovebird. eren cuts up slices of apple for his bird and scatters them around his house. he can't help but laugh every time he sees his pet rummaging through furniture looking for little apple bits. eren likes to put his bird on his finger and carry him throughout the house, saying he's giving his bird a "house tour".

mikasa: has a betta fish that she loves dearly. the fish loves her back as well, you've noticed. it does a little happy dance every time she's around his tank, like he's expecting something from her. (most likely food) her betta is red and white with bits of blue on the tips of it's fins. she talks constantly about getting a cat, but can't since she has allergies.

armin: proud owner of an axolotl. knows wayyy too much about them. armin has all sorts of live plants in his tank, all with different names too. rodger, kenny, elizabeth, ben. there's more but you tend to forget the names of all of them. would totally own more axolotls/fish if he had the space for it. loves to aquascape too, he helped mikasa set up her betta's tank. it always makes your day seeing him light up when you ask him about his his tank, or what care his axolotl needs.

jean: a dog dad. jean trained his dog extremely well from the time he was a puppy, so he's very calm and collected. every time you see jean, he's boasting about some new trick that he taught his dog. he'll whip out his phone and show you videos upon videos of his dog learning how to fetch the mail, open doors on command, stand on his hind legs, you name it. he would probably own a large dog breed, like a german shepard or a pitbull.

connie: has a bearded dragon. likes to plop him on the couch and watch hours and hours of tv together. connie buys his bearded dragon clothes. he bought a mini top hat and bow for his bearded dragon for "special occasions". the bearded dragon doesn't seem to mind either. he's glued to connie like a magnet, constantly resting on his shoulder or snacking from his hands, all while dressed up snazzy in his top hat and bow.

sasha: doesn't own any pets at the moment. is saving up her money (that isn't spent on food) for a miniature pig. she's lived on a farm before so she has experience raising a large range of animals. she's raised dogs, cats, goats, sheep, horses, cows, pigs, chickens, and ducks. whenever someone has a question about animal care, they go to sasha, who is delighted to help.

hange: has a pet tarantula. they let it crawl all over their fingers and arms, laughing hysterically since it tickles. everyone is freaked out by it. they also have a problem getting too close to non domestic spiders in order to figure out what type of spider they are. levi has had to yank them away from far too many black widows, even though they insist that "it was actually a redback spider!"

levi: owns way too many cats. you've lost count of how many there are and what their names are. they follow him around almost everywhere in his house. if you go to his house there's just a chorus of meows. he doesn't even seem phased by it either. he is hesitant to let them roam out, so he prefers to keep them in his house. constantly changing their litter boxes so his house stays clean.

erwin: owns a horse. he spends most of his weekends going horseback riding. routinely invites everyone to go horseback riding but usually only levi, hange and sasha are willing. he grew up with his horse at a young age so he has a very strong bond with her. when he speaks to her, it's as if she genuinely understands what he's saying. taught his horse how to play fetch with a little rubber dog ball. she's rather good at it too. it's hilarious though, seeing a giant grown man play fetch with a giant grown horse.

#aot #attack on titan #writing.exe #writing #writings #writing headcanons #headcanons #animals #snk #shingeki no kyojin #erwin smith #hange zoe #levi ackerman #sasha braus #connie springer #jean kirschtein #armin arlert #mikasa ackerman #eren jeager #eren jager #eren yeager #eren #mikasa #armin #jean #connie #sasha #levi #hange #erwin

[general-illyrin]

Tag game: Tour my bookshelf!

@totally-not-one-of-the-fae, thank you for tagging me!

An estimate of how many physical books I own: I just counted, and I have 772 plus two boxes about 2' x 3' x 18" stuffed full that I didn't bother to drag out and count XD (And I'm pretty sure I have other books scattered throughout other boxes that I missed counting.) So I have over 800 books!

Favorite author: I definitely don't have one favorite author, but some of my favorites are J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, Murray N. Rothbard, Socrates, Richard J. Maybury, and Chuck Black

A popular book I've never read and never intend to read: Mine is likely also the Harry Potter series, though I may re-read it at some point (if I have nothing else to read or do, which will likely be...never XD)

A popular book I thought was just meh: I don't really pay attention to the popularity of books, so I'm not sure what books I've read are popular, and I also don't remember the names of books that I think are neither good nor bad, so I can't really answer this question.

Longest book I own: Based purely on page number, which varies depending upon the size of the books and page thickness, the longest book I own is The MacArthur Study Bible at 2,247 pages. After comes another Bible and then The Complete Works of Shakespeare.

Longest series I own all the books to: Probably The Chronicles of Narnia

Prettiest book I own: The Barnes and Noble edition of The Prince by Niccoló Machiavelli; it is black, gold, and silver with gilded edges and I find it both beautiful and stately. Actually, here's photos of it:

A book or series I wish more people knew about: Oh, there are so many good ones! If we're sticking to fiction, I would probably say Ranger's Apprentice, The Knights of Arrethtrae, or The Silmarillion (though I'm not sure how well-known those are). They are really good books and series that I enjoy and are on my re-read list, which is carefully curated to only my absolute favorites. If we're discussing non-fiction, I would say Whatever Happened to Justice? by Richard J. Maybury (this is an interesting look at justice and the legal system in non-technical terms), The Amazing Dr. Ransom's Bestiary of Adorable Fallacies by Douglas Wilson & N. D. Wilson (a hilarious and informative book on the different kinds of informal logical fallacies), and Economics in One Lesson by Henry Hazlitt (an informative introduction to economics in non-technical terms).

Book I'm reading now: Most recently, The Silmarillion, though I am currently reading several books.

Book that's been on my TBR list for a while but I still haven't got around to it:

Again, there are so many on this list! However, the one I'm planning to read next is The Lord of the Rings.

Do you have any books in a language other than English: Yes, even though I can't read them...yet! From what I can remember, I own two books in German, two in Spanish, and one in Korean.

And lastly, paperback, hardcover or ebook? I generally prefer hardback because they are sturdier and from what I've seen are usually prettier; however they are also more expensive and heavier, so I only buy hardback books when the book is a favorite of mine and I'm planning on re-reading it.

No-pressure tagging @solarcola, @hirazuki, @dreamingthroughthenoise, @nutmegs-tired, @actual-bill-potts, @eilinelsghost, @erdariel, @backgroundelf, @mersilisk, @none-ofthisnonsense, @thelordofgifs, @invisiblewashboard, @sweetmaggie, @violecov, @quixoticanarchy, @milesasinmorales, @dicksoutformtl, @aureentuluva70, @curiouselleth, @warthoong, and anyone else who wants to join!

#My apologies for answering so late #tag game #not tolkien

[trainfanz]

Starlight Express Bochum 2002 Subtitle Track

It’s here! Presented to all of you lovely fandom folk is my subtitle track for the Bochum 2001/2 (I’ve heard both) recording. This is NOT an accurate translation from the German lyrics and uses known English ones. The intent was to create a watchable version of the show to show to new people and friends etc.

Keep an eye out as I’ve scattered a few little jokes etc. throughout the subs. A personal touch.

Please note you will need to provide your own copy of the video. The copy I used is split into five files. 

Be sure to read the included text file that concerns audio synchronization.

ENJOY!

https://mega.nz/folder/N4IXTLzb#THxvMBMLu_R3ZpFUUIHqIA

#starlight express #stex

[dustedmagazine]

Rick Rubin (with Neil Strauss) — The Creative Act: A Way of Being (Canongate)

Mega-producer and record label magnate Rick Rubin brings us his first book (co-written with Neil Strauss), The Creative Act: A Way of Being. At 404 pages, the book is a surprisingly breezy read, giving some insight into how Rubin approaches the art of being creative. Which for him boils down to a way of being. Those looking for juicy anecdotes about recording sessions with Johnny Cash, LL Cool J, Slayer, The Red Hot Chili Peppers or any of the other innumerable artists Rubin has worked with will be disappointed. But for those curious about the modus operandi behind one of the most influential record producers of the last 50 years, and how this might relate to one's own life, The Creative Act: A Way of Being could prove useful.

Admittedly, I was at first skeptical when the book caught my eye in a bookstore window. I was like, That Rick Rubin, the producer?  Well, why shouldn't an immensely successful record producer know something about creativity? It was more the framing of this knowledge as a way of being that caused a brief spate of disbelief on my part. Growing up in Los Angeles (The Land of Fruits and Nuts, as my hard-scrabble relatives in South Boston referred to California in general) I was used to seeing books from dime-store gurus. Edgar Cayce, Ram Dass and Timothy Leary paperbacks lined my mother's bookshelves. I had girlfriends who went to Golden Dawn temples, friends who dragged me along to channeling sessions for some deity from Venus. It was hard for me to take any of this very seriously.

Maybe it was the extreme disconnect between Rubin's commercial background and his espoused role as a seer that pushed me over the edge and caused me to buy the book. The opening quote from American artist Robert Henri sets the tone for what follows: The object isn't to make art, it's to be in that wonderful state which makes art inevitable. The book therefore provides less a toolbox for working on one's life than a series of vignettes where Rubin extrapolates on various contingencies related to achieving a state of mind and spirit where creativity is possible. Some of these topics include, Listening, Self-Doubt, Non-Competition, Freedom, Inspiration and Awareness. Basically anything which Rubin feels has pertained to his creative process is included in this book.

Ironically, what came more to mind while reading this was not Rick Rubin's background but the German artist Joseph Beuys' famous dictum, Everyone is an artist (Jeder Mensch ist ein Künstler). Unlike Rubin, Beuys did not frame his belief as much in the context of a spiritual journey, but like Rubin he did see himself as a kind of shaman or teacher who could lead society onward to a new — and more positive — direction by unleashing the creative possibilities each person innately possessed but perhaps did not know they had. For Beuys, this would later morph into a concept of social sculpture, where the creative state in each person would further society as a productive, forward-thinking organism.

This would also be the gist of Rubin's book. He's not trying to tell us how to make a better record, write a more catchy song, more successfully promote an artist's career (although all these things are mentioned tangentially throughout the book) but to help people realize their own unique creative strengths in the hopes of steering society in a less self-destructive direction. Though the main text and sprinkling of aphorisms scattered liberally throughout the book often verged for me on a kind of treacly sweetness, in the end I came away feeling that Rubin had really made a sincere attempt to show people the way to something they might not have realized they'd had all along.

The most inspiring take-away from the book would be this sense that even in a person's everyday life there is this great wellspring of energy to approach the most mundane tasks from a creative standpoint. That being creative doesn't necessarily mean creating something, making some beautiful object. It's about a state of mind where creativity equates with a way of existence, of approaching life with an awareness that will put one in a place where they can reconnect to a life energy which, at the very least, will lead one to experiencing a more personally fulfilling existence.

All this being said, the book also includes many concrete examples of how to circumvent creative dilemmas and meltdowns, whether this be in the recording studio or just trying to make it through a workday. Though Rubin seldom mentions people he's collaborated with by name in the book, he gives numerous examples of how he works in the studio — not necessarily microphone placement or which effects he used, but more how he guided various recording artists on an inspirational or spiritual level to realize their full creative potential. And in this context the book moves beyond its often sentimental, esoteric trappings to provide some real-world advice for people, whatever their vocation in life, to find a new way of being.

Jason Kahn

#rick rubin #neal strauss #the creative act: a way of being #canongate #jason kahn #bookreview #dusted magazine #creativity

[hedgewitchgarden]

Scattered throughout Germany are collections of what look like tiny houses surrounded by well-kept gardens. But people don't live in these small structures with flourishing yards. These are allotment gardens — a take on community gardens also known as Kleingarten or Schrebergarten. Originally developed to facilitate health and wellness, these gardens are described by The Local as a "a concept, a goal, a way of life."

In the early 1800s during a strong period of urbanization when many people had moved to the cities for work, impoverished families often had difficulty finding enough to eat. Some churches, city administrators and factory owners offered to lease them community land for a small fee so that they could grow their own food. These became known as Armengarten, or gardens for the poor, according to DW.com.

As urbanization continued, Dr. Moritz Schreber, a doctor and teacher from Leibzig, was concerned that children raised in the city would suffer both physically and emotionally if they didn't have more outdoor experiences. He proposed the concept of playgrounds where everyone could get physical exercise and enjoy the outdoors. Just a few years after he died, the idea gained traction and the concept of Schrebergarten was named for him, reports the Local.

The early spaces were mostly play areas on the outskirts of town. But families quickly realized there was value in the land and also began planting gardens in their outdoor plots.

While the kids ran around and soaked in all that fresh air, the adults grew vegetables for the family. But there was downtime for them, too. They pulled up their chairs and talked or played cards. The gardens evolved into a hub for relaxation and social life for everyone in the family. The gardens also became known as Kleingarten ("small garden") or Familiengarten ("family garden").

Most of the plots were converted completely to family gardens by World War I, and those plots helped a hungry populace survive both world wars, reports German Girl in America.

As the popularity of the gardens grew, laws were passed to keep leasing fees reasonable. The plots of land were kept in the family, passed down from generation to generation as long as the fees were paid.

Many of the gardens were located in relatively undesirable areas where most people didn't want to live, like along railroad tracks, airports and even on both sides of the Berlin Wall. They were usually grouped together in colonies, forming communities.

A way of life

Though they are no longer a necessity, Kleingarten are now considered a luxury or, some say, a key pillar to a recreational way of life.

These days, there are about 1 million allotment gardens in Germany and 95% of them are occupied, according to a study by the German Institute for Construction, City and Space Research.

The average age of a garden association member is 56, a drop in about five years since 2011.

"The allotment garden system continues to have a permanent place in the green and open space system of cities and fulfills important social, ecological and urban planning functions," the study authors write. "The allotment garden is rejuvenating: the generation change is becoming more noticeable ... The main reason for this is the increased demand from young households, mostly families with children, who are also becoming more international. In the big cities, club members are more often younger than in the smaller cities."

And these younger people appreciate the opportunity to be outdoors.

"Overall, this also reflects an increasing need to become more involved in nature and environmental protection and to use, secure and make green and open spaces, especially in the metropolitan areas, as places of rest and relaxation," the researchers write.

Garden laws and waiting lists

Gardens now are often so much more than just a few veggie plants. They can be elaborate spaces with loads of flowers, water features, barbecue grills and even the occasional garden gnome. They are spots for people to relax and socialize and enjoy the outdoors.

But it's not easy to just grab a plot and start growing. There's often a waiting list. According to the BBC, Berlin's gardens have a waiting list of 12,000 people, and it typically takes at least three years to get a plot.

And as attractive as the gardens might be now, with their colorful flowers and home-like accouterments, there are national laws to control what goes on in the plots. The garden huts can't be too big or used as residences, according to DW.com, and at least one-third of the garden must be used to grow fruits and vegetables.

But for many, the balance of rules versus relaxation is worth it, as generations mingle in the gardens.

"The amount of work that goes into taking care of the garden also makes you appreciate what you're eating — and makes you realize what's in season," Paul Muscat, 32, of Wedding, Germany, tells the BBC. "Except for the parks, there’s no immediate escape from the urban environment. This offers a reprieve from that."

Updated February 22, 2020

#gardens #germany #little gardens

[merrybrides]

Festive Fall Wedding Ideas

Fire Up the Fondue

Served with apple and pear pieces and sliced baguette, cheese fondue makes for a hearty (and interactive!) group appetizer at the start of dinner.

Try Fresh-Picked Placecards

Clove-adorned apple place cards are such a seasonally appropriate way to welcome guests to their seat. (Added bonus: they smell great!) To create, draw your letter on paper, cut out, and tape to an apple. Using a straight pin, lightly prick along the outside of the letter, “tracing” the outline onto the apple. Remove the paper, and push cloves into the apple, staying within the outline.

Decorate with Dried Wheat

This pretty neutral strikes a sophisticated, textured feel for fall weddings. Try it in a pair of welcoming wreaths at the entrance to your ceremony or reception.

Serve Pretzels as a Late-Night Snack

Honor Oktoberfest with a late-night snack display of soft pretzels. Pro tip: pair with an assortment of German mustards (try Löwensenf and Alstertor) for a bout of tangy taste-testing.

End the Evening With Hot Apple Cider

A spiked apple cider cocktail is the perfect way to cap off your event. Pair with apple cider donuts or pear fritters for a sweet send-off!

Drippy Candle Cake

Layers of melted white chocolate is the secret to these multilayered drippy candle cakes, which will add just the right touch of spookiness to a late October wedding. Birthday candles—inserted almost flush with the tops of the cakes—mimic the candle look.

Set a Cozy Scene

Chippy furniture, apple crates, and rustic ladders are the perfect pieces for setting a rustic tone for your fall wedding reception. Use the antique finds as furniture in the decor focal points of your evening, such as a dessert or drink display.

Offer Cozy Blankets

As the evening starts to cool, encourage guests to help themselves to wool blankets scattered throughout the reception space. (This will be especially appreciated if you're celebrating outdoors!) Show off your love of of all things vintage by nestling the blankets in antique picnic baskets.

Set Up an Apple Toss

For an autumnal cocktail hour activity, set up an apple toss game on the lawn. Gather an assortment of vintage produce baskets in various sizes and designate different point values for each vessel. For game pieces, set out a few ready-to-be-tossed pieces of produce in two different shades (red and green, naturally) so that it's easy to keep track of points.

Serve Pie for Dessert

Not feeling a fall wedding cake? Serve up delicious slices of pie for dessert instead.

Add in Plaid

Plaid is the perfect pattern motif for a cozy fall wedding. Add in touches of the pattern on your tablescapes and in paper details, such as your invitations and escort cards.

Dress Your Bridesmaids in Velvet

The rich texture and subtle sheen of velvet bridesmaid dresses make them a great way to celebrate fall in your wedding fashion choices—especially when you opt for a seasonally-inspired hue such as copper or taupe.

Ride a Tractor to the Ceremony Site

If you're marrying on a farm, why not take advantage of the equipment? A tractor-driven hay ride is the ultimate country way for you and your bridesmaids to arrive at the ceremony site.

Wear a Tweed Suit

Grooms and groomsmen, take note: It's okay to have fun with your fabric! A tweed suit or blazer will help keep you warm at an outdoor celebration, and will also help you get into the autumn spirit.

Use Leaves to Show Off Your Rings

It's practically sinful not to incorporate the stunning, color-changing fall foliage into your wedding photo shoot, but think outside the box. The photo of wedding rings resting on fall leaves is stunning and truly delightful.

Opt for Simple Fall Table Linens

Minimalism and fall marry well with this cool table contrast, made possible by rust-colored napkins against white plates and tablecloths.

Serve a Hot Toddy as Your Signature Drink

And for your signature drink, you can't get any cozier than a hot toddy featuring your favorite bourbon or whiskey. For favors, you could gift guests miniatures plus the recipe for them to re-create at home.

Set Out Pumpkin Seating Cards

Upon arrival, guests are welcomed by festive pumpkins directing them to their seats.

Choose a Naked Wedding Cake

A semi-naked wedding cake is the perfect end-of-the-night treat for a rustic fall wedding. Adorn with deep red fruits and serve alongside apple cider donuts for an extra festive look.

#fall wedding #autumn wedding #fall wedding idea #wedding planning #wedding ideas