#there's no explanation i just hate that I don't have people to celebrate it with beside my family | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

st4rg1rl-16 · 2 months

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━━ ✶✶˖° 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 | 𝗡𝟰𝗦.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀) ━ 2019 to 2023!f1 grid x driver!female oc

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ━ in a club max, lando and carlos make a plan to discover if the ferrari drivers are in a relationship, how? making charles jealous!

𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 ━ 2019, 24 march

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ━ barcelona, spain

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ━ they are in a club so alcohol consumption jealous!charles, the boys being the little shits they are, fingering (wait what?!) lewis kinda flirting with bella?

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ━ I been MIA I know, sorry for that but here it is!!and things are starting to get heatedddd

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ━ @namgification @louvrepool @d3kstar @omgsuperstarg @whoselly @yl90 @wcnorris

• — need for speed’s masterlist

𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻

♡ liked by 𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵, 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗮𝘀𝗹𝘆 and 𝟴𝟲.𝟬𝟲𝟴 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀

𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻 After revolutionizing not only the motorsport world but also our hearts, Arabella Torres is crowned with the title of the new "it girl" of Europe.

"I've spent this last month hating my body and I'm tired of pretending that everything is fine" The Formula One driver opens up to us showing us her most vulnerable side about hate on social media and several other topics in the interview for the 200th issue of our magazine, now available on 💥 our link💥

Text: 𝗰𝗹𝗮𝘆𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗲𝗿

Interview: 𝘁𝗼𝗺_𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘁_𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

Photograph: 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗸_𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱_𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗼

Styling: 𝗺𝗼𝗯𝗼𝗹𝗮𝗷𝗶𝗱𝗮𝘄𝗼𝗱𝘂

𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵 have been tagged

𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘀 🏎️🏎️🏎️

⤷ 𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻 😍

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟭 Wait, I’m running to get it

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟮 I wasn’t a big fan of her but since I saw the live I love her

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟯 the same happened to me

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟰 Sorry for my ignorance, but what happened? I just got into the fandom.

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟯 Last month she was sexualized a lot on twitter because some youtubers uploaded a video and mentioned sexual things about her body, she went viral and began to have even more hate than she already had and made a live saying that she was going to leave social media for a while and then talked about how bad she felt, how it was a shame for her family and how it was “staining” her career. She basically talked about how bad it is to sexualize and also took out things like sexism and things like that (+)

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟯 (+) Then she left social media and we only saw her in the Shanghai and Azerbaijan gps and during these four weeks a lot of celebrities have talked about her and she has gone viral and now she is like the “it girl”.

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟱 ooooh, thanks for the explanation 💖

𝘀𝗰𝘂𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗮𝗿𝗶 That’s our girl!! 😌

𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵 muchas gracias por darme esta oportunidad! 🤍thank you very much for giving me this opportunity!

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟲 aww she is so cute, why do people hate her?

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟳 Unfortunately there are many people throwing hate at her even though she is a great person

⤷ 𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻 Te queremos, Arabella! 🥰 We love you!

𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗲𝗹𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗼 ARABELLA TOOOOOOOORRESSSSSSSSS

𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵 and 𝟭𝟮𝟳 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀 liked this comment

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟴 my ship 🥺

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟵 What they've done to her is horrible, now she hates her body when she's beautiful

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟭𝟬 I would kill for having a body like hers

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟭𝟭 that’s how society works 🙂

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟭𝟮 she is probably going to get even more hate after this

"IT would be awesome if your first victory was in Spain" Oliver's smile was focused by the camera. His mother snapped her tongue looking at him with reprimand.

"Oli, son, don't swear on the table, please" The boy looked at his mother and gave her his most charming smile.

"Yes, mommy" The woman rolled her eyes and threw her napkin in his face so he complained while her husband laughed.

Arabella smiled watching the familiar scene unfolding in front of her. The truth was that she had missed it, after so many months away from them and seeing each other only by casual video calls, it was nice to be all together even if the whole family was not yet there because her parents had traveled to Barcelona, where her next race was going to be, with her brother the previous week to celebrate the birthday of the youngest of the Torres family and now a week later her grandparents, her uncles, aunts and her cousins were still to arrive so that everyone could attend the race on Sunday because they wanted to support Arabella in their native country. But this was nice, she had missed hearing her brother's nonsense, her mother acting like a mother and talking about cars with her father. She missed a normal life that she had never had.

"By the way" Her father caught her attention, turned her gaze to him drinking from her glass full of sangria. She saw out of the corner of her eye how she pointed to the team of Netflix’s cameras that surrounded them in the garden of the house they had rented during their stay in Barcelona “Do we have to speak in English or...?”.

Marisa, her mother, let out an disgusted moan “Oh, with how much I struggle with English”.

The green-eyed boy laughed as he nibbled at the chicken wing that his fingers were holding “I still don't understand how you don't know English, mom. Your children are literally international athletes, you should know English”.

"I know English" The eyes of the same color as that of her two children opened in the direction of the teenager before she began to speak in English with a very strong Spanish accent "How are you? I'm fine, thank you!” She smiled with self-centeredness, pointed to herself “See? what your mother doesn't know how to do...”

“Jeez" The girl murmured, sticking her lips to the glass again while her brother burst into laughter, almost chocking with the wing.

The one wearing the glasses looked at his wife with a small smile, obviously trying to hid the laughter that was about to come out, and winked at her “Of course, honey! you are good at everything”.

Her brother's smile increased when their mother smiled sending a kiss to their father, clearly not grasping the intention of his words. Arabella shook her head but still a smile had made room in her full lips, she left the glass on the table and lay down on her chair after making a sandwich with the chorizos that her father had cooked on the barbecue.

"It's for the Netflix’s Formula One docuseries" She spoke with her mouth full, making her mother look at her badly but she didn't see her because she was looking at her father. She shrugged her shoulders turning her gaze to the sandwich before giving it another bite “They wanted to see what my private life is like and we speaks in Spanish so no. Speak in Spanish, period”.

"But your private life so fucking boring" She looked at her brother badly while her teeth crushed the food in her mouth, he stuck out his tongue at her.

"Oh, really? Okay, okay, I don't invite you to the party tonight then” She smiled evilly at what the moto driver let out a gasp bringing his hand to his chest.

"So rude, sister" He shook his head "So rude”.

A pleasant silence covered the table after her brother's words. Manuel, her father, shared smiles with his wife while they watched their children eat. They had also missed the family moments and were grateful to be together, especially after what their daughter had gone through thanks to the internet.

"Then will you go out tonight?" The man cleared his throat, turning his gaze to his firstborn, who nodded.

"It's been the boys' idea" She rolled her eyes “They've just arrived and they already want to party”.

"Don't you have the classification tomorrow?" She nodded to her brother's question and grimaced when she felt their mother's gaze on her.

"Arabella Torres González, don't even think about drinking tonight." She raised her finger and pointed at her accusively. The girl nodded while father and son looked at each other knowing that she was indeed going to drink. The blonde turned her gaze to her plate when she began to cut a piece of bacon “If you drink, don't drive”.

"I wasn't going to go drunk to practice, but well" She murmured, giving the last bite to the bread. She wiped his lips with the napkin that was next to her plate.

The only brown eyed let out a breath of air when the cold Coca Cola passed through his throat and smiled “Well, I think it's great that you go out, honey. Especially after everything that has happened”.

She nodded, offering a smile to her father before looking down at her plate, a common reaction she had to the mention of the twitter situation.

"Do you think you're going to win?" She heard her brother ask and although she thanked him mentally because she knew that he had changed the subject to entertain her, she couldn't help to, without knowing why, tense.

Being honest, she knew why: everyone's eyes would be on her, not only because it was going to be the first time she was going to race in her country since she in formula one, but because of the same issue she was trying to avoid. She had disappeared since what happened, the only time the media could see her was in the Azerbaijan race and they didn't even see her too much because she refrained from doing interviews or any kind of media in addition to the fact that she had moved away from social media even closing her twitter account temporarily after announcing on Instagram live that she was tired of the comments towards her body.

She had managed to hide well from the paparazzi and that had made people talk about, the whole gossip magazines was talking about her and not only them because even in the sports they had mentioned her situation which had caught the attention of many celebrities, especially women, who defended her from the internet trolls and praised her for continuing with her sportiness above all. Her popularity had risen like foam and the contracts and offers of all kinds of brands had not taken long to reach her manager's email. The first offer they had accepted had been to be the cover of the May issue of GQ Magazine where she had taken the opportunity to talk about how the online comments about her body had affected her, which was something quite healing for her, being able to talk loudly about it because she had been keeping it to herself.

Before she didn’t give too much importance to her body, focused since she was a child on cars and nothing else had not gone through that stage in which insecurities about her physique tormented her but that controversy had provoked it. She had suffered a mini crisis in which she was never very hungry, she spent hours looking at her reflection in the mirror thinking that it was what was wrong with her, her wardrobe had changed to a more comfortable and wide one that did not reveal more than the minimum of skin and the salt of her tears was the only thing that fed her.

She wasn't proud of herself, far from it, but what could you wait for? She was just an eighteen-year-old girl receiving hatred everywhere, although none of those people had a face to look at when she read those insults Arabella could not prevent them from affecting her. And although she was much better now, after talking to Sebastian –who was on a plane on his way to Spain, because unfortunately he hadn’t been able to attend Azerbaijan– as if he were her personal psychologist and spending time with her family, she could not help but tense every time something reminded her of the small trauma she had experienced.

She closed her eyes inhaling and exhaling "I have a good feeling but I don't want to jinx it”.

Her mother's hand curled up on hers, looked up to see her and immediately felt a warmth and security invade her body causing her to relax her tense shoulders. Marisa González smiled sweetly at her daughter "No matter what happens, we will be proud of you, cariño. Okay?”.

She bit her lower lip feeling her eyes begin to sting, she nodded "Okay" Her voice came out more raspy than usual, causing the woman to get up from her seat and approach her daughter to hug her.

"THIS is so awkward" A somewhat drunk Lando looked worriedly at his teammate while he rolled his eyes denying. He pushed his arm when he saw him “Carlos! What do we do? I can't keep this secret that is eating me alive”.

"It's not a secret because we don't know if it's true" He leaned over to take his glass from the small table in front of the sofa on which they were both sitting and drank from it.

He was going to need alcohol to survive the night.

He opened his eyes in an exaggerated and paranoid way “What do you mean, Carlos? Look at them, they look like cats in heat!” He extended both arms towards the dance floor where they could see Arabella dancing with Daniel and Pierre while Charles was next to George at the bar, neither of the two pending the presence of the other to the very opposite of what number 4 had said.

A "Mmh" sounded on the other side and they both quickly turned their heads to see the Dutchman sitting on the other sofa. The McLaren's idiots opened their eyes with surprise when they remembered that the Red Bull driver was with them.

"So, do you think Arabella and Charles are together?" He raised one of his eyebrows, curious because he swore to have seen things among the members of the red team but he had not yet mentioned his suspicions to anyone.

"Don't tell anyone, but yes”.

"It's not that we believe it, it's that we know it" The British raised his index finger to emphasize his words.

"Oh, really? How?” Max moved in his seat, approaching them to try to get information from them because he had decided not to drink that night so he was bored as he watched his friends and co-workers approach the ethyl coma.

The curly-haired one approached him too, looking over his shoulder to prevent unwanted ears from hearing their conversation “Have you seen how they look at each other? Or at least how Charles looks at her? She is more discreet but he is not and clearly that look is not from friends”.

"Mmm" The 33 rubbed his chin before a mischievous smile crept into his lips "Maybe we can make them confess”.

"Ohhhhh" Lando laughed while Carlos pursed his lips.

"I don't know, guys" He denied taking another sip from his glass "We shouldn't get in, I also think they're angry at each other”.

"Yes” Verstappen’s blue eyes moved to the spaniard "I've noticed it too, they're acting weird. They don't talk much”.

Norris let out a moan of protest while patting his thigh “Now that we have something to entertain ourselves, they go and break up”.

"Shut up, shut up!" The eldest of the three exclaimed between his teeth when he saw Pierre and Arabella approaching the VIP zone, the reflections of the lights colliding against the brightness of the girl's skirt almost blinded him "They're coming, they're coming”.

Pierre let go of the girl's hand and dropped with a sigh on the sofa next to Max, who looked at him raising both eyebrows making the Frenchman smile at him unwillingly “God, i’m dead”.

"But we barely have danced, P” The girl who was still standing laughed, Carlos moved making room for her but she denied leaning a hand on his shoulder. She made puppy eyes “Carlitos, you coming to dance with me”.

He shook his head without looking at her because he knew he was going to give in if he kept looking at her “No, no, I'm okay here”.

"Oh, come on!" She complained before taking his hand and began to pull him but it was of little use. Releasing a blow, she sat next to him and took the cup, earning a complaint from him “You are the only one with whom I can sing the songs, this useless frenchie doesn’t know the lyrics”.

"Sorry for not knowing Spanish!" The other exclaimed as he raised both arms "I already know English and Italian and that is more than enough”.

"Hey, what about Daniel?" The Dutchman frowned when he realized that his former teammate was not in the group.

"He found a girl" The girl shrugged her shoulders accepting the glass of the other spaniard when he took a sip and then hand in it to her again.

Immediately everyone let out complaints in unison and she laughed because she knew why. They had decided to ignore the hotels and rent a house all together to be able to stay a couple more days in the country and, well, they were going to have to listen to the australian and his fling all night.

"Can I sleep with you today?" Carlos looked at her horrified because he was the one who had his room next to Ricciardo's, she denied what he opened his mouth in pain "Why not?"

"Because you don't want to dance with me" She was busy arguing with him so she didn't notice when Max collided his knee with Lando's to get his attention, once the boy looked at him he nodded to the girl opening his eyes.

"What?" He asked in a confused whisper to what Max rolled his eyes and Pierre approached them, curious about what was happening.

"Go dance with her so we can make Charles jealous”.

"Why is Charles going to get jealous because Bella dances with Lando?" Pierre looked at them strangely, he was not surprised about a jealous Charles because, obviously, he had also realized the feelings of his friends, what he didn’t understand was why was he going to feel jealous of the little boy of the McLaren team.

A demonic smile was planted on the full lips of the much acclaimed lion “You'll see”.

With his gaze he pointed to the duo that was approaching them and Gasly nodded impatiently to see how the Dutchman's plan unfolded.

"Bells" The voice of the curly haired one came out high and both the 10 and the 33 had to put their hands to their mouths to avoid laughing. The girl looked at him expectantly but smiling, he swallowed saliva feeling nervous suddenly “I can dance with you, if you want”.

She nodded before getting up and extending her hand towards him, who didn't take long to take her between his much larger one and let himself be guided by her to the dance floor. Along the way they met Charles and George, his blueish green eyes collided with the greens of the Monegasque who clearly did not look very happy at the image in front of him. He swallowed again, praying mentally that the elder would not end up beating him up. The girl in front of him kept pulling him, completely ignoring her teammate but not without giving a smile to her other British friend who responded by raising both thumbs.

Fuck he thought when the reggaeton song of which he didn't know how to pronounce its name changed to Reminder by The Weeknd. A wave of screams filled his ears when the first chords filled the nightclub, he watched as the sweaty bodies stuck even more when he heard the song and suddenly he felt that the shirt that decorated his torso was too small for him. He hooked his index finger on the neck to relieve the sensation a little but it didn't work too much.

His eyes went down to the girl in front of him, despite wearing heels she was still shorter than him so he could see the club above her head. He bit the inside of his cheek when they finally found a clear space on the track and turned around to look at him.

She analyzed him from top to bottom before showing him a nice smile "If you want we can go back, Lan. It's okay”.

He immediately denied “No, no, it's fine. Let's dance, that's what we've come for, right?”.

"Okay, but if you feel uncomfortable, tell me" She stood on her tippy toes to reach his ear because Abel Tesfaye's voice was too loud. The boy closed his eyes when he smelled her perfume “Okay?”.

She separated from him, enough so that they could look at each other's face but not so that their bodies would stop being against each other. He nodded speechlessly looking into her eyes and she smiled funny before taking her hands and placing them on her hips to which the boy opened his eyes wide making her throw her head after laughing.

"They are just hips, Lando!"

"Yeah, i know, but... don't blame me" He laughed too.

On the other side of the nightclub, their friends watched them as if they were the best show in the world while Charles felt that he was going about to throw up. He squeezed his grip on the glass that was in his hands without looking away from the young drivers, who now danced very close to each other. It should be him who was there moving his body next to hers, it should be him who had his hands on her hips, it should be him who had his arms around her neck. It should be him and not Lando.

"They would make a good couple" He heard Sainz speak, who was looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

"I thought that if she would date with one of us it would be Max" All the eyes, including Charles's, went to George, who had not realized that he had become the center of attention because he was very distracted on his mission to catch with his straw a gummie that was at the bottom of his glass.

The named one frowned “With me?”.

Pierre moved in his seat offended "Yes, what do you mean with Max?" Why not with me?”.

The Spaniard laughed scratching his leg over the fabric of his jeans “Don't you have a girlfriend?”.

"Shut up, Carlos. This is important” The Frenchman raised his hand trying to block the Spanish's face.

Russell's bulging eyes rose to look at his colleagues “I mean... I don't know, between Max and Bella there is like this strange tension but at the same time they get along well. I guess it will be because they are both so focused about beating Hamilton but I thought they would end up together”.

The green eyes of the number 16 traveled to his childhood rival, his desire to throw up became even stronger when he saw that he was struggling not to let out a smile. He knew that he had liked the British's words and although he couldn’t blame him because, to be honest, they were all young men and she was practically a goddess so he was not too surprised that he was not the only one interested in her.

"Mmmh" Pierre's lips furrowed in agreement. "Yeah, they wouldn't look bad together. It would be kind of enemies on the track to lovers off the track, it would make sense”.

Russell pointed it at him “Right?”.

"But she and Lando have already kissed" After Verstappen's words, everyone looked at him strangely.

Carlos let out a high-pitched squeal “It was you who interrupted them!”.

"Yes" He laughed nodding as he drank from his glass, he moved his gaze towards the boy sitting next to him.

"Well, Landito has a lot of advantage then" Carlos' honey eyes returned to the dance floor causing the others to imitate him. The youngest pair of the group were dancing as close as they could to each other, they were sure that not even a pen could fit between them, Arabella was with her back to him with her arms hanging from his neck while Lando hid her face in her neck and his hands kept a firm grip on the girl's waist.

"Do you think they will fuck tonight?" The dirty blond with a beard smiled like a kid, entertained by the reaction of his best friend but also happy that his friends got some kind of action.

"Looks like it”.

Before Max's words, he squeezed the glass so much that it exploded, attracting the attention of others and even of some people around them. He felt the cold liquid from his cup pierce the fabric of his pants when he released the last piece of glass that he was still holding in his hands. He waved his hand to get rid of the liquid and let Carlos take it to inspect that no crystal had been stuck in his skin.

"Fuck, Leclerc" The one with the raspy voice handed him napkins from the napkin holder that was on the low table in the center of the sofas.

He looked back at the dance floor ignoring how Carlos called a waitress or how Pierre and Max tried to clean the mess by throwing an unnecessary amount of napkins on the floor. Suddenly he was relieved when he saw the dark-haired British boy walking towards the table, with no trace of the brunette next to him.

"What happened?" Lando's disheveled eyebrows came together when he saw his friends trying to clean the floor and Charles soaked from top to bottom.

The monegasque had to look away from the boy when he noticed a mark of lipstick of the same color as the one Arabella wore on his cheek. He got up abruptly releasing a quick "I'm going to the bathroom" before leaving.

He walked through the club as if the devil himself was behind him, he ignored the screams of the people when the song changed and also the looks of the Spanish girls on him in addition to their whispers. Once he reached the hallway where the bathroom was, he let out a sigh, his knuckles had turned white from how hard he was squeezing his fists. He leaned against the wall taking advantage of the fact that the hallway was empty and sighed, bringing a hand to his hair.

Damn the day he met Arabella Torres. Since that day, everything that could have gone wrong was going wrong. He didn't blame her but the damn fate for playing with him that way.

He leaned his head on the wall, looking at the ceiling and thought that it wasn’t as he had expected the night to be. He had gone to the party hoping to be able to talk to her and fix their problems but no, she hadn’t even give a single look to him and that drove him crazy because since their fight and having left him lying in her driver’s room they hadn’t spoken, except for some video that the Ferrari stuff had forced them to record for the YouTube channel and little else. They hadn't even seen each other since the last race, they were supposed to have flown together from Azerbaijan to Barcelona but Arabella had run away to Madrid to celebrate her brother's birthday with her family so it had been almost two weeks since they had last seen each other.

For a moment he wondered what his life would have been like if maybe they were in different teams or if they were normal people and met at a party like this or maybe at college. Everything would have been very different and much easier.

He moved his head following the rhythm of the song without knowing that the lyrics said because it was in spanish and sighed when he heard the door of one of the bathrooms open, he looked down even without separating his head from the wall.

Oh, what a coincidence.

"What happened to your pants?" Arabella was in front of him, looking with a frown at the dark spot that covered much of the fabric that covered his leg.

"My glass exploded" He replied in a hoarse voice because he had not said a word almost all night. He observed her through his long eyelashes, trying to memorize the image in front of him before she ignored him again.

"Ah, good luck cleaning that then" She squeezed her lips and began to turn, ready to get out of there, to run away from him again but he prevented her by grabbing her wrist. She froze in his place, she had missed his touch, she let out a sigh trying to stay calm “Charles, let me go”.

"Why?" A cynical smile stood on his lips "Are you in a hurry to go back to Lando?".

He saw how she tilted her head to the side before she let go of his grip and turned around, he saw how she looked at him confused.

“What does Lando have to do with this?”.

"I've seen how he was kissing your neck and how you danced very close. Too close to be just friends" Everything around Charles was red, as red as the cars they drove or the uniforms they wore on weekends. He was jealous and drunk and didn't think too clearly because they both knew that he wasn't like that. Arabella looked at him strangely, she never seen him that way “What, have you already found my replacement?”.

"What the fuck?" She murmured in spanish. The girl was surprised and as incredible as it may seem, turned on.

"Maybe you can go to McLaren" He bowed his head as his gaze went from her eyes to his lips "But you know that orange will never look as good as red on you”.

She immediately realized that it was a metaphor and wanted to laugh but was too confused to do so. The alcohol in her system next to Charles' perfume wasn't really helpful. She knew that he was playing a game and that if she followed it she could get burned but everyone knew that Arabella Torres was reckless and that she liked danger.

Her confused expression changed, Charles couldn’t describe it but when she began to shorten the distance between them he began to walk backwards, unconsciously entering the women's bathroom, which was empty thank God. He felt his mouth dry when he saw that the girl's hand went to her chest where she began to play with the buttons of the shirt she was wearing “I'm not sure if the red fits me so well” Slow but very slowly she unbuttoned the first buttons revealing a red lace bra. She gathered his eyebrows looking at him with feigned curiosity and in an innocent tone asked him "What do you think?"

He blinked a couple of times before looking up at her. He cursed in French before shortening the distance and smashing his lips against hers. He passed his hand through his neck entangled his fingers between the soft waves of brown hair, closed his fist and pulled her hair forcing her to walk towards the sink. Her ass hit the edge of the marble board making her moan in his mouth because his free hand was squeezing her butt making the Prada's skirt rise and she could feel the cold marble against her skin. The moan in his mouth made him smile, his hands moving from top to bottom through her body caressing her barely covered skin thanks to the open shirt and the short skirt.

Her hands traveled to the boy's neck, one of them taking over the small strands that were born on the back of his neck causing Charles to open his lips but not move them, he stayed in his place watching as she twisted under his touch, the smug smile he had on his lips made her know that he was enjoying it. The tips of his bangs stuck to her skin thanks to the thin space between their foreheads tickling her, which was making her nervous.

Arabella let out a small moan when she felt his right hand go up from her ass to her naked thigh and go through the bottom of her skirt to her underwear. He kissed her again as he pressed with his finger –she wouldn’t know which one– against the fine red lace garment that separated her skin from the contact of his hand.

For a second she thought that she had reached glory when she felt how he was pressing even harder but she fell from the cloud when he separated. She looked at him frowning at what he gave her a smile of apology before asking her with his eyes if she was okay and comfortable with that.

At another time maybe she would have thought it was cute but she was drunk and horny so she could only roll her eyes and take his hand with hers to place it back on her panties “For God's sake, Charles. Just do it”.

This time it was she who joined their lips, ran her fingers through his hair and pressed herself as hard as she could against him while their tongues fought each other. She let herself be embraced by his pleasant smell and the thousand sensations she felt when he was like this with her.

She released her grip on his hair and took her hands along a path from his neck to his chest where she took the shirt in her fists and, in one movement, pulled it breaking the buttons making them fly. He walked away from her when he heard the buttons touch the ground, he looked at them without expression before turning his gaze towards her, raising an eyebrow looking at her between his eyelashes. She bit her lip because, let's be honest, he looked too good looking at her like that from that angle.

"I'll buy you a new one" She went to tell him, but before she opened her mouth, he screwed his hands on the back of her thighs, causing her to let out a small choked scream in surprise when she didn't feel the ground under her feet.

She hissed when the cold of the marble hit the skin of her thighs although she was silent when she felt Charles' hands raise her skirt more to have better access between her legs. The monegasque released the garment when he felt her gaze on him, he looked at her without raising his face, giving a dark touch to his gaze. They watched each other in silence for a few seconds until Charles took his right hand to her jaw and kissed her quickly, separated from her but not enough so that their breaths didn’t mix and took his fingers to her lips.

"Open your mouth" He murmured still holding her gaze, the girl obeyed by letting his fingers pass between her lips meanwhile he looked down at her mouth “Suck”.

He watched with delight as the girl's swollen lips closed around his digits, he felt her tongue playing with them. He looked into her eyes and found that she was already looking at him and almost moaned at that moment.

"Merde, mon ange" He cursed when she let go of his fingers making a pop resonate through the empty bathroom. Shit, my angel.

"Charles..." She said his name in a sigh. He looked at her expectantly with his fingers still touching her lips, the skin of her mouth stained by the red lipstick collided with his finger tips surely staining them too “Charles, please”.

"Please, what?" His voice came out in a murmur but she still heard him and of course she did because the only thing she could hear, feel and smell was him. She was drunk but the alcohol wasn’t what the room had circling around her but him.

She hated Charles Leclerc, she hated the effect he had on her, she hated that even though she was angry with him she felt the stupid need to feel his skin against hers, she hated that they couldn’t be together, she hated that he was playing with her that way, she hated that it made her question every damn aspect of his life. She hated him.

Damn Leclerc and his perfect eyes.

She squeezed her grip on his shirt and kissed the fingers that hadn’t yet separated from her lips before looking at him through her long eyelashes with the most pleading look she could give him "I need you. Please”.

Pathetic, she thought for a moment but the boy's hands rolling up on the fabric that covered her private parts returned her to reality or at least to that bubble in which they had both locked themselves. She rested her hands on the white marble countertop and raised her hips to help him slide the garment down her legs before he made a gap between them and kissed her abruptly.

She felt how the tips of his fingers caressed the inside of her thighs until he reached his destination. She felt how they grazed her folds, covering them with her juices and she groaned in his mouth when she felt him slowly rubbing her clit.

The boy broke the kiss by grabbing her neck when she saw that she made the move of throwing her head back “Was that what you wanted?” His voice was so calm, in contrast to how trembling her breathing was “Did you want my fingers, mmh?”.

"Please" She groaned and he pressed his fingers harder.

She let out a gasp when his fingers slightly touched her entrance, pushed her hips against his hand desperate for his touch, that caused him to laugh. He put one of his fingers inside and a soft moan came out of her, hips moving again to look for some kind of liberation “More” She complained in a murmur under the intense gaze of the boy.

"More?" He smiled and inserted another finger, feeling the walls tighten around his fingers, his hand moving to equalize the movements of her hips, putting in and pulling out his finger being able to hear the wet sounds.

The whining and moans began to get stronger, the nails stuck strongly in the skin of his shoulder on the fabric of his shirt and he moaned at the sensation, looking at her as he fucked her with his fingers.

Arabella thought that not only did his fingers feel incredible, but he also looked so good in front of her and just by looking at him touching her she thought he could send her to the limit. His thumb went up to rub her clit causing her to sink her teeth into her lower lip, the sensation became too intense.

"I'm so c-close" She groaned and he straightened up, crashing his lips in hers, their tongues dancing in a passionate kiss while his fingers pushed into her faster and deeper. The fluids ran through his hand while his thumb applied even more pressure. She felt so overwhelmed that she couldn't even keep up with the kiss, she was too focused on how well her fingers felt inside her.

And just when she began to feel those tickles in her lower belly that she had rarely felt in her life, everything stopped making her open her eyes abruptly. She looked at the boy in front of her confused and moaned when she felt how her disconnected their bodies.

“Charles...”.

His free hand squeezed on the back of her neck, he approached her ear and she heard how he smiled, "You're right, red doesn't look that good on you.

He walked away from her causing a sudden feeling of being cold to cover her body, she frowned when he saw him crouch and take her thong from the floor. With a mocking smile he shook it before storing it in the pocket of his pants “I'll keep this, maybe it will bring me good luck and I beat you in your home race. See you, mon ange”.

He winked at her, causing his dimples to be marked on his face. She looked at him, her eyes shining thanks to the tears of frustration that had accumulated. She clenched her jaw watching how he was leaving the bathroom so calmly. She looked silently for a couple of seconds at the door through which he had disappeared before releasing a scream of rage. She swallowed between quick breaths and closed her eyes, dropping her head against the cold mirror.

"Fucking asshole”.

𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵 added to their story!

A mischievous smile was present Charles' face, who was looking at the photos that Arabella had uploaded. He looked up from his phone when he heard footsteps enter his part of the garage, he saw one of his teammate's engineers approach his car to talk to his own engineers. He ignored him and looked back at the device in his hands, trying to hide his deception when he saw that it wasn't the brunette.

But when a part of the conversation made its way to him he couldn't help but turn his attention to them. He continued looking at the phone and moving his thumb across the screen from time to time to disguise it.

"I recommend that you don't talk to Arabella today" Said the man whose name Charles didn't know. He had seen him several times in the other part of the Ferrari garage but the truth was that he had never paid much attention to Arabella's team. His ears perked up at the girl's name.

“Why?” His engineers were clearly not as interested as Charles as they didn't even give him a second glance and continued inspecting the car.

"Just don't say anything to her unless she talks to you first".

And with that he ran to the other end of the red walls. He frowned and got up from his seat, left the garage belonging to his team and began to walk towards McLaren's, ready to find Carlos because he knew on good authority that the spaniard was the one who kept the paddock's princess' secrets.

He laughed to himself wondering if she had told him what happened in the bathroom at the nightclub last night. He hesitated because she told him everything but he wasn't so sure if she would tell him that.

I'll find it out now, he thought as he saw the spaniard sitting on the ground with several others. He clenched his jaw at the sight of the other part of the McLaren duo but continued his pace towards them anyway.

"Haven't you noticed that she's acting strange?" The Australian's notable nose wrinkled at his own question. He narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah? No, I don't know" Alex raised his head looking at the others confused "I mean, I don't know her as well as you do but there is something different about her".

"Maybe she's just focused on trying to win in her homerace" His best friend shrugged, turning his head to look at the other side of the paddock. He raised both eyebrows when he saw him and was immediately excited "Charles is his teammate, surely he can tell us what is happening to our girl".

He looked down at him, his expression showing very clearly that he had not liked the way he had referred to the spanish woman. Gasly's annoyed smile widened as he separated the green from the blue and shook his head.

"We argued so she doesn't talk to me" He put his hands on both hips and rested his weight on one leg. He looked at Carlos surreptitiously trying to see some kind of expression that would give away that he knew about their relationship but nothing. On the one hand he felt relieved, on the other he felt the need to talk to someone about it but he knew it was too big a risk.

He felt Ricciardo's hand collide with his shoulder and then his contagious laughter filled his ears "Have you never heard the expression "happy woman, happy garage"?.

"What have you done now?".

He looked at Albon, putting a hand to his chest, offended “Why does it have to be me?”.

"She's the one who doesn't talk to you, the one who must have screwed up must have been you" Carlos joined his hands on top of his knees, his eyes focused on some distant point behind Charles' body.

He opened his mouth to complain but the vpice of the protagonist's of the conversation made everyone look in the same direction that Carlos had his eyes on. The girl walked through the paddock alongside a group of cameras and interviewers, answering her questions with her calm even though the press seemed to be about to kill each other to be able to walk near her. As if she were some kind of saint who just by being close to her and breathing her air would cure most horrible symptoms.

Lando broke the silence that had formed between them by speaking for the first time since the monegasque had joined them “They have never fought to interview me.”

"Me neither".

"Neither" Daniel responded and Alex just clicked his tongue.

He curled his lips and then remembered that in the other two races she hadn't done any kind of press. Charles didn't know why but it wasn't like he could ask her either. He watched her walk away and twisted his head, something was happening here.

"POLE position, baby!" Alexandre exclaimed in her ears and she laughed at the man's enthusiasm. As always before getting out of the car, she thanked the team over the radio and took off her helmet followed by her balaclava. She heard the roar of the Mercedes and watched as Hamilton's car parked next to hers, she saw him get out of her and copy her, taking off his helmet and balaclava. He looked at her and smiled at her raising both eyebrows to which she rolled her eyes and started walking away.

“Why are you avoiding me?” The British accent sounded soft and sweet next to her. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye seeing that he had not taken long to get next to her. She tightened her grip on her helmet.

"Because I don't want to see you" She smiled sarcastically still looking ahead. Lewis frowned and quickened his pace to stand in front of her, walking backwards. He observed her face delighting in it when he saw her make a face of frustration when she saw him in front of her "You're going to fall".

A smile planted itself on his plump lips “Aw, you care about me.”

"On the contrary, it would brighten my day" Sarcasm continued decorating her pretty smile.

"I thought me being second was what would make your day" He stopped his pace abruptly, causing her to collide with him, she placed her hands on his hard chest to avoid stepping on him and grunted in annoyance while the british man smiled, clearly enjoying the moment.

As if he were poison, she quickly let go. She looked up to see him, remaining silent for a few seconds because she didn't know they were so close to each other. She blinked before pushing him away, his annoying laughter soon filling her ears “Enjoy the views from the second place.”

The man laughed again watching her walk away from him towards her garage, her car being driven by one of the engineers following her at a considerable speed. He sank her teeth into his bottom lip before raising his voice“I'll do it! Believe me, I will".

She hurried into the garage, clenching her jaw as she saw the monegasque driver giving her a smile as if nothing had happened between them "Congratulations…"

She raised a hand blocking his face and his words before passing by him and heading to the hallway that would take her to her room, ignoring how the red polo shirts were soaked with champagne and how everyone was celebrating the pole position. Upon arrival she dropped the helmet on the ground without giving much importance to the loud noise it made when it hit the ground and threw herself onto the sofa while releasing a sigh. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

"ARABELLA TORRES CROSSES THE STARTING LINE CROWNED AS THE NEW WORLD CHAMPION!"

Despite the roar of the car engine and the cloaks covering her ears she could hear the screams of the audience. She frowned when she saw a sea of red and yellow flags, her team began to take their place on the fence that separated the track from the pedestrian zone, she saw how they shouted with smiles on their faces and how they waved their flag in the air and then she knew.

She had won.

She had won the last race of the season and just like that the fucking title of world champion was hers.

She laughed madly, raising her arm above the halo in celebration. She pressed the button on the radio and incredulously asked "Have I won?".

"YOU'RE WORLD CHAMPION, BABY!—She heard Susie's scream, behind the blonde's voice she could hear the others celebrating the victory. Her smile widened even more making her cheeks start to hurt. Wolff wiped her own tears and picked up the microphone, bringing it to her lips. "You've won, Arabella. You've done".

Her lips trembled but the smile didn't fade, her throat went dry and for a moment she saw blurred "Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you so much to all of you, guys."

Come on, get out of the car so we can celebrate" This time it was Toto's voice that rang through her ears, he nodded and followed the few meters of road until she reached the sign with the number one. She parked in it and sighed before getting up from her seat and raising both arms in victory.

She got out of the car feeling tears begin to roll down her cheeks. She took off her helmet and balaclava before kneeling on the ground right in front of the car, clasping her hands together and resting them against the nose of the black car and then resting her forehead on her hands, as if she were praying to the machine. She lowered her head until her forehead was almost touching the floor and, finally, she cried. She let out a sob so hard her chest hurt, and she grabbed the fabric of the chest of her suit tightly.

"Arabella, Arabella, Arabella!" For a moment she heard nothing but the audience chanting her name.

She sobbed again, raising her head, looking around around. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. Was that really happening? She looked at the camera in front of her and with her hand on rop of her heart chehe vocalized several "Thank you" non-stop.

Suddenly she heard a loud bang and immediately afterward the screams of people, she looked at her hands and frowned when she saw that they were illuminated by an orange light.

She raised her head slowly seeing how her car was on fire, she moved her gaze to the right finding the red car embedded in the side of hers. She watched in horror as Charles's lifeless eyes looked back at her.

“Arabella, Arabella, Arabella!” The crowd's cries grew even louder and she willed them to shut up. She got up to run towards Charles but it was too late, neither he nor both cars nor even the circuit were there.

“Arabella, wake up” Some light pushes drew her to reality, with a gasp she opened her eyes, meeting Sebastian's face.

She smiled when she saw him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She heard his laugh and felt how he gave a kiss on her hair before caressing it.

"I'm here, siéger” He whispered into her ear, his voice immediately bringing him peace. She sighed against his shoulder “I'm here.” Champion.

"God, I've missed you so much" She murmured against his jacket, she hid her face even more in his neck, feeling the man's hand go up and down her back.

“Me too, siéger” He patted her on the back a couple of times and began to let her go. He looked at her with a frown “Were you having a nightmare?”

“Yeah, but…wait” Her gaze ran to rest on the clock on the wall right next to the television. She opened her eyes in surprise before looking at the man kneeling in front of her "Is it Sunday already?".

Vettel nodded “Yes, you've been sleeping here since qualifying. It's been a long nap”.

She put her head in her hands, hiding her face in them, and let out a sigh “I didn't sleep much yesterday.”

“How much?”.

She denied, remembering that when she arrived at the villa that the boys had rented she couldn't sleep but instead stayed tossing and turning in bed all night without stopping thinking about the race and how frustrated the green-eyed boy had left her. Plus Carlos's unconscious body trying to hug her every chance she got didn't help her much “An hour”.

“Fuck, siéger” He let out an incredulous laugh “And yet you qualified on pole, incredible”.

She shrugged as if it was nothing. She turned her neck to both sides grimacing when she heard the bones creak and got up from the couch being followed by the german, who stepped forward to open the door for her.

They walked among the paddock, heading to the common cafeteria so the girl could have breakfast. They both ignored the surprised looks at seeing the former champion walk and chat so calmly next to the driver, since it was not public knowledge that she and Sebastian Vettel had known each other and had maintained a friendship since she was a child. She licked her lips watching the cameras not far from them, she knew that at any moment people were going to find out so she tried not to give it much importance while the dark blonde, on the other hand, looked a little worried.

Sebastian knew that the girl didn’t want the public to know about her friendship, either the one she had with him or with the Schumachers, since the public would quickly question all of her achievements in her career. Both Sebastian and Mick understood and agreed with her, they knew Michael would agree too. And that's how it had been since they met, distancing herself from the Schumacher’s son while they were in public when they met at a race even though they both wanted to talk or simply enjoy each other's company, not being able to go to Sebastian's races to support him or couldn't even talk about how the germans had become fundamental supports in her life since she met them at the tender age of eleven.

That's why he couldn't help but be surprised when he accepted her call and heard her invite him to the next race. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, he knew that she had had a bad time and he was worried about her, after all for him, she was like his eldest daughter. Not for nothing did his first-born daughter bear her name.

Once seated in the cafeteria, they were accompanied by the girl's manager and her publicist, who after waiting for her to have breakfast, dragged her away because she had to do some interviews.

“Don't you notice something strange on her?” Nicholas took a bite of his croissant, both men watching the two women walk away at a hasty pace.

“There is something in her gaze” He responded, nodding “Something that I don't know if I like”.

He had noticed it and it had not been difficult for him to recognize that shine in her eyes. He more than anyone could know it, because a while ago he also had that shine in his own eyes.

225 notes · View notes

leclerc-s · 3 months

Text

track 001. shameless

─── ❝ distance, inches in between, i want you to give in. ❞ ───

masterlist // next

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, pierregasly and others

nataliaruiz my “best” friend gets to drive for ferrari next year! i think this calls for a celebration! (please get me sebastian vettel’s number or daniel ricciardo's, i'm not picky)

tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc we are best friends stop lying to people

nataliaruiz are we though? charles_leclerc and i’m not getting you sebastian’s number much less daniel's nataliaruiz oh come on! please! for me! charles_leclerc no way

user18 oh how i’ll adore having natalia around at the paddock with seb.

user25 why is she only making her presence known now that charles is driving for ferrari? was alfa romero not enough?

user18 she has a job asshole and they’ve been friends since they were kids. nataliaruiz if you’ll scroll further down my page you’ll find that i congratulated charles on his achievement in getting into formula 1. not that i need to give an explanation to a stranger.

pierregasly have you two started dating yet? asking for a friend (i’m the friend)

nataliaruiz fuck off you french fuck user84 so it's not just us who sees it user67 meaning we’re not crazy like we thought we were

danielricciardo hate to break it to you kid, but i have a girlfriend

nataliaruiz aw man. also, please never call me kid again, i'm not that young. i could totally date leo dicaprio pierregasly that's because you're under 25... nataliaruiz i wouldn't complain.

maxverstappen33 you're telling me i have to deal with dumb and dumber?

nataliaruiz you fucking love me verstappen admit it. maxverstappen33 i tolerate you at best on a good day.

it started with alcohol, although stories like this always do. in hindsight you can't really blame charles for the choices he made when natalia looked the way she did. she was beautiful, he had known that his entire life. boys always told him he was lucky to have a best friend who looked like her. though it didn't always feel like luck when a boy broke her heart and he was left to console her. sometimes he wished she was less beautiful so her heart would get broken less.

after the announcement of charles’ move to ferrari for the 2019 season, natalia had decided a party night was in order, and charles was never one to say no to her. not even when they were little kids getting in trouble for whatever stupid stunt they decided to pull. it wasn't just that he had a crush on her until he was 14, but more so he didn't know how to say no to a pretty girl, especially one who was his best friend. even when she had moved to a different country to pursue her dreams of acting and modeling, they always found a way to speak. it also helped that she dropped everything the moment he needed her and vice versa.

had it cost them both relationships, yes, but neither of them truly cared. it was a weird dynamic to everyone, they acted like couple but they were friends, or so they insisted. and so they found themselves in the position they were in, naked in a bed, with a massive hangover. waking up together in a bed wasn't strange, they had done that before, but waking up naked was something new to them. natalia was the first to wake up, shooting up when she'd realized what had happened. she grabbed the pillow she had been using and smacked charles across the face, effectively waking up the sleeping boy.

charles shot up, "je suis réveillé. qu'est-ce qui ne va pas? qui est mort?" (i'm awake. what's wrong? who is dead?)

"english, charles, english. it’s too early for french," natalia sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"what's wrong?" natalia gestured to him, then her, and then their clothes on the room floor, "non."

"oui," she sarcastically said, "what do we do?"

"ignore it?" he questioned, "do you remember anything?"

"no," she muttered, "do you?"

charles shook his head, "i don't remember anything after pierre stood on a table."

"good, we forget this ever happened, things go back to normal."

charles nodded, "okay, do i close my eyes?"

"for?"

"are you not going to put your clothes back on?"

"oh!" natalia realized, "yes, i am."

pierre gasly added two people

pierre gasly they didn't leave to go fuck max!

max verstappen i'm just saying it could be a possibility. we've all been waiting years for them to start dating.

esteban ocon doesn't she have a boyfriend?

pierre gasly non, ils ont rompu, je pense (no, they broke up, i think)

mae jones translation? pierre gasly google translate it bitch mae jones you know what you french fuck baguette, joan of arc is still more famous than you AND SHE'S BEEN DEAD FOR CENTURIES!!

max verstappen PIERRE FUCKING GASLY IF YOU FUCKING ADDED LECLERC I'M CRASHING INTO YOU NEXT WEEK

natalia ruiz is pierre talking shit again?

max verstappen EVEN WORSE YOU ADDED NATALIA?

natalia ruiz no, it's just not fair right? max verstappen i hate you. natalia ruiz and yet i was still your first kiss charles leclerc WHAT?! mae jones excuse me?

daphne jones can you guys shut up? for once? i can't have a moment of peace in the studio because my phone keeps blowing up.

natalia ruiz I'M GONNA GO SCREAM IN A PILLOW

charles leclerc please don't.

esteban ocon are you two together?

natalia ruiz i slept over. we didn't fuck. pierre gasly yet.

pierre gasly also, i feel like we should circle back to the natalia was max's first kiss thing. how did that happen? when did that happen? where did it happen?

max verstappen as mae says, i plead the fifth

natalia ruiz we were 12, and it was a dare. momma didn't raise a bitch

natalia ruiz well, she didn't raise me but you guys get what i mean

daniel ricciardo ah, trauma dumping, a skill this friend group is excellent at, welcome to the club.

max verstappen NO! DON'T DO THAT SHIT! THEY ARE NOT WELCOME!

sebastian vettel max, behave.

carlos sainz this is why we call you dad seb. you act like one.

natalia ruiz oh my god. oh my god. oh my god.

charles leclerc i am now deaf in one ear. she has really strong lungs.

esteban ocon i figure we should let her knew lewis and fernando are also in this group chat. to get all of the screaming out at once.

charles leclerc well fuck you for that esteban. my ears are ringing.

charles was fucked and apparently a good liar. he remembered everything from last night, from the first drink he had to the first kiss he shared with natalia. he was far from sober last night, but for some fucked up reason he remembered everything. charles didn't have the same luck as natalia, he just couldn't forget. and oh, how badly he wanted to forget, lorenzo had been right, falling for your best friend was never going to work out. it was times like these where he desperately wished his papa and jules were still around, they always knew what to say.

everyone around him always told him he was a shit liar, but hah! he had just proved them all wrong (take that pierre and george!) charles had effectively lied to his best friend right in her face and she hadn’t suspected a thing. apparently he had been thinking too hard because natalia sat next to him and he hadn’t noticed. charles wasn't even sure how they were functioning in the same space after what had occured between them this morning, rather late last night.

she sighed, trying to get his attention, charles turned to glance at her, saying nothing. natalia rolled her eyes and huffed, this time charles felt inclined to speak.

“what?” charles asked. she shrugged, “i don’t know, i feel weird.”

“do not tell me-” natalia’s eyes widened realizing what he was implying, “no charles! that’s not how it works. it’s been barely 24 hours or less!”

“i’m a man!” he shouted back, “i don’t know how that works!”

“oh my god,” natalia laughed. she sat back before turning her body to face charles, “kiss me.”

“quoi?” the monegasque questioned. she shrugged again, “i don’t know. maybe it’s because i know what we did and now i can’t seem to stop thinking about why on earth i would sleep with my best friend.”

“so… you want me to kiss you?”

“yes, maybe then i’ll remember why.”

“i’m not going to kiss you,” charles argued.

“what? why not?” natalia asked, “i’m a great kisser! i won’t bite, i swear!”

“you bit louis when we were 16,” charles reminded.

“because he was a horrible kisser and he liked garlic a bit too much.”

charles grimaced and opened his mouth to reply before natalia rolled her eyes him, grabbing him by the shirt of his collar and pulling in for a kiss. he reciprocated quickly, and after about a minute, natalia pulled away. charles stared at her, wondering what her next move would be.

she cocked her head to the side, “no, i still don’t get it.”

“get what?”

“why?”

charles quickly realized what she meant and replied, “we were drunk?”

“i would’ve done it sober,” natalia dismissed.

charles was shocked, that was a new revelation to him, “you would?”

“of course,” she quickly replied, “i would kiss you sober because what if a crazy fan was trying to kiss you? or what if a crazy ex wanted to kiss me?”

“right,” charles dejectedly replied. he stood up, “i’m going to take a nap.”

natalia stood up after him, grabbing his hand as he walked away, “was it the kiss? je suis désolée (i’m sorry) i wasn’t thinking and-”

charles interrupted her, pulling her closer and kissing her, natalia reciprocated. charles pulled away, placing his hand on her hips, there was tension between them, “tell me to stop and i will. i would never-”

it was her turn to cut him off, “don’t, don’t stop.”

green eyes met brown, not an ounce of regret seemed to be held in either of them. natalia waited for him to kiss her again. would this potentially ruin their friendship? absolutely, but neither of them cared, not right now. not when they only needed one thing, and one thing only, each other.

“why?” charles whispered, not daring to break their bubble.

“why not?” she argued.

“but it could-”

“i don’t care,” natalia says, “i trust you and you’re my best friends. i’d rather it be you then someone else i met at a bar. someone i don’t care about.”

“it’s going to change everything,” charles argued back.

“you’re schedule is about to be even worse because you’re driving for ferrari next season, you won’t have time for a relationship. i don’t want a shitty one night stand with a stranger or a relationship right now. it’s a win win for us.”

charles opened his mouth to argue again, but natalia has had enough, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. she pulled away first, breathing heavily, “do you want me to stop?”

“merde,” charles whispered, “non,” he decided after he paused to think about it, “s'il te plaît, ne t'arrête pas.” (shit, no. please, don’t stop.)

“okay,” she whispered, pulling him in for another kiss, both of them proceeding to lose each other in between charles’ sheets, not an ounce of regret. years later, they’ll both realize they were fucking idiots in love who disguised it as a friends with benefits relationship.

they both lay breathless in his bed between the sheets, she lays her head on his chest, and he pulls her close. they should’ve known then, it was never just sex for either of them. it was never was just going to be just sex.

“just sex?” she asks him.

charles, despite a broken heart quickly realized it was better to have a small part of natalia, than no part of her, “just sex,” he whispered, “this doesn’t change anything does it?”

natalia looks up at him, doe eyes looking at him, “no,” she replied, holding up her left pinky, like when they were children, “best friends?”

“pour toujours,” charles answers, interlacing their pinkies. (forever)

the were truly fucked from the start. if only they had realized it from the moment their lips first touched, maybe things would've gone differently for them. but would it truly? they had always loved each other, one way or another, they would end up in a similar situation.

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj @dan3avocado @melissayalene @nothanqks @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @chezmardybum @d3kstar

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! y'all I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE SMUT! hence why i skipped that whole thing entirely. but yay, first part of this series is finally out! this story does begin in 2018, right after charles was announced to be driving for ferrari in the 2019 season and then jumps to 2019.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #the honest series #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female oc #formula 1 #formula 1 fic #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 fic

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matan4il · 4 months

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To the lovely American Nonnie, who told me that all antisemitism is bad, but leftist antisemitism is the worst because "they are being protected and celebrated. By media, pop culture, and academia. With no middle ground," I agree. The anti-Israel type of antisemitism is, without a doubt, the most socially accepted kind. It's the only kind that someone can spew, and get publicly applauded. The only kind where someone can celebrate the massacre of Jews, and either there are no consequences to that, or there finally are, and then that person and their supporters can pretend they're a martyr, being "persecuted" for being "critical of Israel," when in reality legit criticism of Israel is a very different thing to bias against the only Jewish state, and that person is just another Jew hater.

But I don't think it's just that.

I think it's also the fact that most antisemites are at least honest about hating Jews. The anti-Israel type of antisemitism tries to pretend it's not Jew hatred. So you'll get the hypocrisy of wishing Jews a Happy Hanukkah, a Zionist holiday, while attacking Zionism, and claiming it's incompatible with Judaism. Or you'll have people telling you how important it is to them to combat antisemitism, then they'll turn around and spit out leftist antisemitic conspiracy theories, that instead of saying Jews use the blood of non-Jewish kids to bake matzos, claim the Jewish state only sent a field hospital to Haiti after the earthquake, to harvest human organs. Or they'll proudly announce they're not antisemitic, and to "prove" it, they'll tokenize Jews, which is an antisemitic act in itself. And the worst is when they won't even listen to Jews who tell them that they're being antisemitic, or worse, they'll claim Zionism is antisemitic, which would make 90% of Jews, as well as the Bible itself, antisemitic. It's gaslighting Jews and non-Jews on what is Judaism and what is antisemitic. Other types of antisemites don't do that.

I also think this kind of antisemitism is particularly infuriating, because of the deep discrepancy between the values the left is supposed to stand for, and how they abandon those values when it comes to Jews. "Believe all women!" suddenly isn't applied when Israeli Jewish women are mass raped. "Violence is never the answer! Taking a human life is always wrong!" Then suddenly when Israeli Jews are massacred, and we get explanations on why violence is legit if people are occupied, even when it's translated into mass murder.

And lastly, there's the discrimination, because the left would never treat any other marginalized group the way it does Jews. "Don't speak over a minority group! Listen to their lived experiences!" Then a Jew tries to explain why anti-Zionism is antisemitic, and suddenly all the non-Jew leftists are bigger experts than us on Jewish history and and hatred of Jews, and we're not listened to when we talk about our persecution in the Middle East pre-modern Zionism (meaning the persecution and repeated massacres of Jews in the Middle East is being denied, in a way no one on the left would dare deny, for example, that the transatlantic slave trade happened), or how much anti-Zionism threatens non-Israeli Jews. "Educate yourself" is a common call, but no one feels the need to properly educate themselves on Jewish history, identity and native rights, or worse, they read propaganda from anti-Israel sources only, and think that's the same as educating themselves, as if when they're about to write about any other marginalized group, they would only take in the "education" of those that the group says hate it. "Ethnic cleansing is the worst!" the left says, while chanting slogans that, at the very least, call for the ethnic cleansing of Jews from the Jewish ancestral homeland, and no one gives a damn about us when we point this out. "None of us is free until all of us are free!" goes the intersectionalist call of the left, but Jews are excluded from that. No one cares about modern Zionism being our liberation movement, and we are sometimes physically removed from spaces that are supposed to be dedicated to marginalized groups, as was done to my friend at the Chicago Dyke March, when she wanted to hold a Jewish pride flag, under the claim that the Jewish pride flag makes Palestinians at the march feel unsafe... How safe did queer Jews feel in that moment, or when learning about that incident? But no one cares.

Sending lots of hugs from Jerusalem to you, in the US! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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thatoneguydownthestreet · 1 year

Text

Fem aligned DNI

(Some) House wardens x male reader but reader is from the apocalypse, part 1.

You explain some things about the gas mask to riddle and the mask hints at your old life to leona

I swear I had an actual prompt for this but it got away from me.

Scenario: You always wear a gas mask. Gas masks were invented during WW1. Twisted wonderland never had WW1. Twisted wonderland doesn't know what a gas mask is. See the bottom for a better explanation.

Riddle, and Leona

Riddle

Doesn't understand why you won't take it off

Seriously, you never take it off

He doesn't know what you look like

No one does

So one day he's just had enough

"Y/N, what in the great sevens are you doing! Wearing any type of mask during the unbirthday party is strictly forbidden!"

And then he gets pissed when you leave instead of doing the simple task of taking it off

Storms towards you the next day and asks what's so important about the mask that you had to LEAVE THE CELEBRATION

You didn't even eat anything!

Don't you know how skinny you are? You look like your about one skipped meal away from death...

So now your confused and a little ashamed

But mostly confused

You just spent your entire life watching the people you love get lead poisoning from simply breathing too much on the surface

You've watched hunters come back without their masks on and die a few days later

And then one night you go to sleep and when you wake up, the air is somehow clean

The toxic, smoky, smoggy air that you know, is now clean? Just like that?

Yeah no

So you, growing more annoyed by the second, respond with a very fair answer

"Whatever spell you guys have cast to make the air breathable for yourselves is great 'n all, but I don't have magic. I'm not just going to die from carbon monoxide poisoning to obey the rules of a queen I've never even heard of"

And that, my friends, makes him stumble

Excuse me? What the fuck?

You then go on complain about the bad air of your world, thinking it still applies

And as you explain a few, a very few, of the horrors you've seen, riddle misses a few, key details

You said the surface

And what the surface means and implies

Anyways, bad air is an understatement

"Y/N.....there is no spell"

"Huh?"

"The air. We're not using a spell to breathe it in......It's clean"

"..."

.....what

____________________

Leona Kingscholar

Under normal circumstances, he'd be giving less of a shit what you did with yourself

Unfortunately for everyone involved, these were not normal circumstances

The smell

The smell bothered him so fucking much

It stunk of chemicals he didn't recognize

It smelled like blood and smog and sweat and the nauseating, sour smell of someone who was starving

It smelled like death

You smelled like death

At least your clothes did

you never let any skin show so he doesn't know what you yourself smell like

It didn't really matter either way when he wanted to gag every time you walked into the room

He did gag every time you walked into the room, actually

you would come in, and he'd go to the next room over and gag

He will never admit. But after the orientation ceremony, he went to his room and threw up

He just wanted to avoid you at all cost and get out of this place

...he wanted to go home

Unfortunately, life hated him. And gave him no suck luxury

Because you were his alchemy partner

Welllll shit

He hated this

First the alchemy chemicals that he already didn't like, and now the you chemicals that he hated

And he couldn't just cut class, he was already here, and ruggie would be on his tail about it

He'll skip tomorrow

Choosing to breathe through his mouth for now, he looked at your face in annoyance and disgust

Well, he looked at your mask

What the hell was it anyway

He doubted it was a weird fashion thing, if it was, you'd take it off the moment you found out it wasn't here

So now he was just confused. What the hell was it for?

There were a few doodles on it that he didn't really care for

But what caught his attention was the number

The number that was crudely etched in just beneath the left eye lens

49972

......

Well what the hell does that mean

Leona was already tired, combine that with him trying not to get sick all over the experiment, and you get a lion that gives no fucks

"Oi. Herbivore. What the hell does the number mean"

You were in the middle of trying to measure...some weird powder that you needed for the experiment, and thought he was talking about that

"The numbers are for the measurements"

"What?"

You raised an eyebrow. Not that he could see it

Leona was quickly getting annoyed with your existence

"49972"

But he wasn't prepared for what happened

Instantly you straightened up, put down the beaker and the powder, and turned to face him

"49972 responding. How many casualties?"

...... what the fuck

And then you quickly realized that you were in a class room

And you were in a different world

....

Well shit

What the fuck did you mean "how many casualties"?

And was 49972 your name?

...

Come to think of it. Yeah. It probably was

You didn't go by anything, people just pointed to you and said "that one"

This is.....

"....Ignore that"

Leona gave a single, short laugh

"Ignore that? What the hell do you mean Ignore that? And what hell? How many casualties were you expecting?!"

He knew he was losing his cool

But honestly? He didn't care right now

You sounded like that one war general he was forced to meet when he was a kid

"I expect no casualties as this is not a battlefield, rescue mission, or hunting job"

.....

NOW WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN-

Um? Sir? What?

"....Is 49972 like a code name or something"

And without hesitation

"Yes"

"....."

Leona still cut class the next day

But as he lied underneath a tree, he thought about that number.

And as he fall asleep, he thought about what you said

And what it implied

____________________

Ok imma just cut this right here. I'm tired. I'll do the rest of the dorm leaders at a later date.

OK SO.

Let me explain a little.

Twisted wonderland and earth still somewhat share a history, as clothing, some inventions, some holidays, and most basic biology is the same

But I think we can all agree that most, if not all wars, we're fought with magic

Not chemicals like we first see in WW1

So without chemical warfare, you have no gas mask. So I think it's OK to assume these guys don't know what it is.

Also this is what the mask looks like:

Also, I made leona kind of homesick. This because when you make PE leona the homescreen guy and give him a few taps, he mentions that he wants to go ba k to sunset savanna.

Honestly, I might be reading too much into it, but if I had to go to another country for years at a time with only a few breaks in between, I'd start to miss america. Even though living here can be stressful with all the crazy "politics".

So yeah. I thinks he lowkey gets homesick sometimes. No really missing royal life, but just his country in general. Ya get what I'm saying?

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x male reader #twst x male reader #twst x reader #leona kingscholar x male reader #leona kingscholar #riddle rosehearts #riddle roseheart x reader #Riddle Roseheart x male reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar x yuu #riddle Roseheart x yuu

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hero-israel · 1 year

Note

Here's the thing about this narrative that Palestinian resistance no matter what form is acceptable. Jewkilling cannot exist in a bubble. It cannot be politically neutral. 1000 years of European (and Arab) antisemitism culminating in genocide have ruined that. Sorry to Palestinian activists but that's just how it works. You can't murder a Jew without it being a tragedy, without it contributing to the continued global oppression of Jewish people.

And all that said, that's just if Hamas and others only targeted soldiers and police (or at least tried as best they could). The IRA didn't go out of its way to purposefully target noncombatants. Why? Probably because there isn't thousands of years of history of English people being seen as subhuman, there isn't thousands of years of anglophobic propaganda showing English people as twisted monsters preying on children and secretly undermining Irish society. The Irish national movement was not born because English refugees returned to their historical homeland and challenged the notion of Irish Supremacy. It was a pragmatic liberation movement. Resist military occupation, undermine military infrastructure designed to oppress the people. The descendants of English and Scottish settlers would even be allowed to stay if they had won. Imagine that.

These things are all tied up in each other. I'm against police brutality, I'm against the escalation and the militarization and the mistreatment of Arabs in Israel and in Judea & Samaria and Gaza and Golan and everywhere. But killing Jews can never be righteous. Sorry to anyone who feels that way but it can't. Antizionists NEED to understand that. Jews will always feel defensive and ready themselves for retaliation because of history, because of that context. Jews keep saying "prove to us a post zionist society where we all share the land won't be antisemitic" and their concerns are completely brushed off.

There's no empathy at all. A little girl can be stabbed to death and antizionists celebrate because she was a "settler," and that brave Palestinian man was defending his indigenous homeland, by targeting the weakest of his enemies. And since Israel has mandatory military service the antizionist can surmise that no Jews are Innocent. An Israeli Jew cannot be a noncombatant. They have to, otherwise the only other explanation for why Jewkilling is acceptable to them, or even feels good to them, is that they hate Jews. And as of right now, the optics are still against that. I have a sinking feeling the optics won't be against them much longer. I inherently don't trust a "liberation" movement that's all too eager to make murdering Jewish civilians praxis. I'm sick of the internet falling for this bullshit.

One of the best asks I have ever received. Thank you for sharing it and I agree with every word.

The entire progressive intersectional social-justice frame has failed Jews (or, alternately, has succeeded in excluding them), due to being intellectually colonized by a clearly fascist ideology of incessantly hating the Jew as a poisonous alien. Try to get an online activist to critically deconstruct the social assumptions they were raised with about Jews in their Muslim, Christian, or very slightly post-Christian society... it won't go well. Funny how Jews have lived in India and China for thousands of years yet you will look in vain for examples of bitter bloodthirsty kill-your-nextdoor-neighbor antisemitism in those societies. That's because the origin, the core, of Chinese and Indian societies was not "We're the people who are better than Jews."

From a review of Richard Landes' new book "Can the Whole World Be Wrong?":

[During the Second Intifada] Israelis were described at the time as the new Nazis. But the malice that was unleashed was even worse. As Landes writes, “It was mostly about being freed from a sense of obligation to the Jews, a chance to take up again the Jew-baiting so long denied Europeans by a politically correct post-Holocaust sobriety.” Landes quotes a poisonous comment made by a member of the House of Lords and reported in the Spectator, “Well, the Jews have been asking for it, and now, thank God, we can say what we think at last.” During that time, I was told something horrifyingly similar to my [=the reviewer's] face.

Your example of Irish nationalists not going out of their way to murder British children is a good one. The oft-reached comparisons between Palestine and South Africa are frivolous for many reasons as I have explained here before, and the ANC advocating and normalizing a vision of enduring racial diversity and equality is high on the list of reasons (made possible because black African identity is not predicated on a thousand-year history of hating and oppressing whites). The case of Rhodesia is even more instructive. Robert Mugabe - ROBERT MUGABE! - pleaded with the whites to stay, to live as equals, as brothers, and work together in building a better society in Zimbabwe. Ian Smith, last white PM of Rhodesia, agreed with him and stayed in Zimbabwe. If a so-called "liberation" movement is more openly dedicated to straight-up exterminating their enemies than Robert Mugabe ever was, maybe, just maybe, it shouldn't be described as "liberation" at all.

#antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #israel #palestine #zionism #palestinians #jumblr

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dearshelby · 10 months

Note

hi! i saw your writings and theyre sooo good i love them! i was wondering if u could write about protective tommy please? idk how it would b, mayb him fighting w someone who flirted or take things to anotehr level w reader? sorry if i spell bad english its noty native too 😭

thank u! 🩷🐇

Hello, thank you so much! I'm gonna offer you a jealous!Tommy drabble and I hope it fits your taste bc is the first one I ever wrote hehe

Definitely not jealous | T.S

The party carried on loudly as the hours went by, both the Shelby and Lee kin were relieved a marriage was settled to end the war. Ironically, John, who had nearly ran away, was in a dark corner with Esme on his lap. Peace it was.

Ada's laugh was muffled by the concertinas, fireworks and gunshots, the families and guests celebrated united in a happy crowd and the bonfire burned warm so no one felt the cold nightly breeze of the last days of winter. Tommy and Zilpha sat together at a certain distance, watching the party like their own personal kingdom.

The smoke of his third cigarette filled his lungs as his icy eyes wandered through the crowd, whiskey wetted his lips and his mind worked fast, putting the momentary happiness aside to plan his next move on the chess table Small Heath had become since the end of the great war.

However, an unexpected sight stopped the gears of his head in an abrupt move, his jaw clenched, eyes squinted and hands closed in a fist. His wife danced with a Lee boy, a beautiful smile decorated her face as she swayed in his arms.

Tommy's breath got heavier while he tried to rationalize his feelings. It was a wedding, people normally dance, the boy looked drunk, he mustn't know who she was to boldly ask for a dance like that.

But also, Y/N hated to dance, it took months of bargain to allow him to teach her when they were younger, she never smiled like that except when she was extremely happy and she wore her best dress for the occasion. Did she know the boy before? Did she doll up for him? Why didn't she ask her husband to dance before going to some random boy?

Before Tommy could stop himself, his feet took him to them, pushing the other dancing couples in his way.

"Lee boy," he spat out.

"Tommy Shelby I assume," the boy offered his hand, "I'm Gilbert,"

Tommy sized him up, only looking away when his wife whispered his name, she arched her eyebrows in a silent warning. Usually Tommy dealt with his jealousy silently, but his posture told her he could put up a fight at any moment.

"... can you excuse us, Gilbert?"

"Alright, nice to meet you, Y/N,"

His icy eyes didn't leave the Lee boy until his wife's hands rested on his shoulders. A cocky smile decorated her face as she asked, "May I ask what was that about?"

No explanation was needed as his jaw clenched and a deep breath left his lungs, before her humorous eyes he couldn't put up a scene, he needed an explanation though.

"Do you know that bastard?" Tommy asked.

"Not at all,"

"You looked so fucking happy-"

"What are you implying?" she quickly interrupted, "John just got married, your plan worked right, why shouldn't I be?"

Tommy's hands met her waist bringing her closer, he was never the one to display affection in public, but that situation demanded it.

"Are you jealous?" she continued.

"No,"

"Good, I'll find another lad to dance with then,"

"Oh no, you're not," he forbid, "you'll take a break for now,"

"Are you sure you're not jealous?"

"I just want to sit down with my wife, is that a crime?"

"No, it's not, it's flattering even," she pecked his lips, "but y'know, if you were to be jealous I'd say you don't have to, you're the only man I want,"

"Good thing that I'm not then, eh?" he insisted, his features softing up.

"Yeah, it's great," she giggled, allowing him to guide her to their seat.

#tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #request

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jungkookschin · 11 months

Text

operation true love!

thirteen: y/n and heeseung's death 😄 (maybe)

prev/next

*reading this chapter is crucial in understanding the plot for the rest of the story*

Since when did a celebrity go to your school? Heeseung's walking towards you, and everyone is acting like he's walking down the red carpet.

The thing is, Heeseung looks as nonchalant ever: clad in ripped jeans, an oversized black tee, socks and slides, with his backpack lazily slung over a single shoulder. Heeseung doesn't even have the courtesy to look up from his phone as he nonsensically approaches you.

He doesn't look at anyone but everyone is looking at him.

His mere presence parts the crowd of students as people cluster around him to avoid getting in his way- as if the mere thought of inconveniencing him was the worst thing in the world.

Heeseung was just on a different level- and as much as you hate socially constructed concepts like popularity, Heeseung amazingly drew the attention of everyone he walked past.

He finally looks up from his phone when he stops at the bench you're sitting on. "Hey Y/N," he greets with casual indifference- the bored expression on his face obviously indicative that he wants to get this interaction over with.

He lazily shuffles through the unorganized binders, notebooks, and folders in his backpack before he fishes out a sealed envelope. He hands it to you, giving you quite the judgemental expression when all you do is owlishly blink at him.

You shake your head, snapping out of your trance. "Sorry- I don't mean to be weird. I've just heard of you a lot from Jungwon. He-he was devastated after he learned he wouldn't be playing with you- um- anymore," you explain, even though he didn't ask for an explanation.

A smirk creeps onto his face as he eyes you.

"I know you too, Y/N. I actually started watching Blue Lock because Jungwon mentioned that you liked it during practice."

"Jungwon talks about me?"

"He did when we played together, but I haven't spoken to him in months so I wouldn't know." He shrugs his shoulders and you decide that you don't want to cross his boundaries so you press your lips into a tight line and nod.

You hand him your own envelope with the payment for the Nagi photocard and he gladly snatches it from your grasp. Opening the envelope, he shuffles through the cash. It's exactly what he expects: four 100's and one 50.

But he quickly notices one more thing hidden in the envelope. He pulls out a decorated toploader from the envelope, neatly decorated with soccer stickers and cutouts from the Blue Lock manga.

He gives you a skeptical look, but you don't even notice because you're too busy admiring the Nagi photocard. Heeseung holds back laughter at the way your eyes are practically sparkling at a literal piece of paper.

"What's this Y/N?" he asks, pulling you from your trance.

You blink at Heeseung, who is holding the toploader with two fingers.

"Oh, it's a toploader. I thought we could be friends since we both like Blue Lock- but if you don't want it it's fine," you respond.

You're met with silence.

He stares at the toploader, eye twitching before he trains his pupils on you, then the toploader, then you again. He seems like he's having some internal battle before he gives in with a groan.

“Fuck,” he sputters out, tossing the envelope onto your lap. “Just take the photocard for free. I'll take the toploader as payment."

He plops down on the vacant spot next to you, groaning again as he pulls out his phone and scrolls through his twitter feed.

"Wait what? I thought this was an expensive photocard."

Heeseung scoffs. "It is. But I got it for free at the pop up event. I don't even collect photocards so you can have it- I just wanted some extra cash."

You hesitate, deciding not to pry any further. "Thanks Heeseung. That was really nice of you," you smile at him and he looks from his phone to you.

He returns the smile. "You're welcome Y/N."

So that's how you ended up sitting next to Heeseung at the assembly. You awkwardly fidget besides him, hugging your backpack to your chest while Heeseung looks as indifferent as ever.

He doesn't even seem to be impacted by the fact that everyone is literally staring at him and whispering about how handsome he is.

"If you don't want to be here, I can give you a rundown of what happened," you whisper. Heeseung looks at you with a small frown on his lips.

"Why would I want to leave?"

A blush creeps onto your cheeks. "Well- people are talking about you so I thought you might be uncomfortable," you quickly respond.

"Oh." Heeseung looks around the auditorium. "It's fine. I'm used to it," he shrugs.

"Oh okay-"

"Welcome business students of HYBE University!" a voice booms from the speakers, and a man with blonde hair makes his grand entrance onto the stage.

You uncomfortably shift in your seat, redirecting your focus towards the man gallivanting on the stage. Heeseung similarly turns from you and onto the man.

The man is.. quite the figure to say the least. He's parading around on stage in a bright green suit, golden shoes, and a bright red bowtie.

"I'm a representative from Marang Entertainment! And I'm here to offer you..." he points his index finger towards the audience, but for some reason you feel like he's pointing directly at you and Heeseung. Heeseung feels the same, because he nudges you with his elbow and gives you a skeptical glance.

"...a business opportunity!" he finishes, throwing his hands up into the air.

You clutch onto your backpack even tighter.

"I haven't done my research, but I know for a fact that each and every student here knows of Marang Entertainment. We're home to the world's biggest stars: BTS, Blackpink, Enhypen, Justin Bieber- any singer you like? They're under our brand," he continues.

"But today, I'm here to reveal why Marang's artists are so successful!" he exclaims, jumping up and down on the stage.

"Marang Entertainment uses the most advanced, state of the art, and exclusive technology: the quantitative love meter!"

Pointing to the powerpoint slide, he continues to explain. "The quantitative love meter tells us how many love points you have. You can acquire a love point if you've made someone's heart flutter, made someone shy, made someone jealous, or made someone fall for you! Basically, any form of love given to you will boost your love meter by one point!"

He pauses and moves on to the next slide. "The number on the left tells us how many times that has happened during your life span, and the number on the right tells us the potential of love points you will ever receive!"

"Let's analyze one of Marang Entertainment's biggest stars: Jeon Jungkook. The amount of love points Jungkook has received in his life is around 3 and a half billion. However, Jungkook has the potential to receive 100 billion love points in his life! This is why Marang entertainment quickly acquired him as a talent and debuted him in BTS!"

In awe of the presentation in front of you, you don't even realize that Heeseung is aggressively shaking your arm. "Y/N, Y/N.. Y/N! Why the fuck are we the only ones in the auditorium?" Heeseung whisper shouts into your ear.

As if your body is frozen, only your eyes can scan the auditorium and your heart nearly stops in your chest when you realize that you and Heeseung are the only ones left in the auditorium.

Panic erupts into your system, and Heeseung grabs onto your clammy hands, forcing you up. "Let's get the fuck out of here," he urgently expresses, and you gulp, following his lead.

"Heeseung? Y/N? Why are we leaving the party so early?" And just like that, the man appears right in front of you, as if he teleported from the stage and into the audience.

The man scoffs, weaving a hand through his hair. "If you don't want to listen to the presentation, then let's get straight to the point," he spits out.

He snaps his fingers, and suddenly, you and Heeseung are magically strapped back into your seats.

"What the fuck?-"

"Lee Heeseung. Within the entirety of Marang Entertainment history, you have the highest love meter score in the world."

Heeseungs jolts in his seat, trying to escape, but he can't. He's chained onto the seat by whatever spell that man put onto him. "And Y/N, you have the lowest love meter score in history. Ze-ro," the man makes the point to enunicate, making a zero with his hand as he mocks you with his sadistic smirk.

You're horrified. Your heart drops in your chest and you're sweating profusely. You don't even realize that you're crying until the lubricant of your tears hits your palms that are glued together on your lap.

"I'm here to strike a deal with you two," the man exclaims cockily as he grins at you. "Heeseung. Join Marang Entertainment-"

"I said that I wouldn't," Heeseung seethes menacingly, "you've had people stalking me for months and I've already said no!"

"Would you do it to save Y/N's life?" the man responds with a cocky tilt of his head.

Your breath hitches in your throat. What?

"I've come to HYBE University to give you an ultimatum." He strolls around the room casually, as if he didn't just mention your potential death.

"We will kill Y/N if you don't join Marang Entertainment, Heeseung. Y/N, if you can raise your love meter, then Heeseung won't have to join us."

Your body begins to shake violently at his postulation. "If neither happens within the next month, then you both will die."

And the next time you blink, you're suddenly at the top of a skyscraper. The man smirks at you before he pushes you off the building, and the second you hit the floor you open your eyes again and you're back in the auditorium.

He hands Heeseung his business card and snaps his fingers.

With the snap of his fingers, the auditorium has returned to its original form. The students are back in auditorium, as if nothing had ever happened. You recognize your fellow classmates fighting to stay awake as the dean of the business school drones on about credits.

You whip your head to Heeseung, who looks as distraught as you are. He's holding onto his backpack, wheezing as his pupils fill with terror.

His eyes meet yours, and he quickly laces his fingers through yours, dragging you out of the auditorium.

"Let's get the fuck out of here."

And as you're mindlessly letting Heeseung lead you away, another realization hits you.

This means that Jake never liked you.

taglist: @curly-fr13s , @viagumi , @gyurtl , @haechansbbg , @vexstrils , @flamiricky , @lomzy5 , @loves0ft , @ilymarkchan , @paragonofroyalty , @whippedforbeomgyu , @duolingofanaccount , @rikizm

#🌷operation true love🌷#enhypen smau #enha scenarios #enhypen social media au #enha imagines #enha smau #jake sim smau #jake sim scenarios #jake social media au #jake scenarios #heeseung x yn #heeseung scenarios #heeseung social media au #heeseung fanfic #heeseung smau

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kitorin · 10 months

Text

OUR SPRING

009. flowers

"Just do it" It's good advice from Yoichi, but unfortunately it doesn't help when you're nervous beyond words and could ruin someone's entire life and career if this charade of yours fails.

It's not like you were uncomfortable around Chigiri, in fact it was the complete opposite. He's a lot more than a play pretend partner for you, a genuine friend you feel like you could rely on, someone who you felt safe around.

His plan had worked on your behalf, you've been free of sex jokes since you and Chigiri walked out of that janitor's closet, no more rizz comments every time Kira approached you. Sure, strangers still approached you, but they did it out of curiosity and congratulated both of you.

The media wasn't responding negatively, fans around the world were begging to see who you were, buzzing with interest.

Now, all you had to do was entrust the rest of the deal to Chigiri.

"y/n, over here."

The red head calls out to you, as you're about to walk into the library. Unlike how it typically is at school, his hair was done messily, instead of the usual intricate braid. It's also the first time seeing him out of school uniform (photo shoots don't count), white collar of a button up shirt peeking out of his wool jumper. A shoulder bag was slung over his left shoulder, one of his arms wrapped around a bouquet of flowers, the pastel shades of pink, purple complementing the white flowers and the sage green leaves. A black mask concealed the lower half his face.

"Chi- Hyoma, hey."

You were awkward. Really awkward. What are people supposed to say when they great their boyfriend, who technically isn't their boyfriend? All you could do was hope that anyone nearby didn't care enough about celebrity dating or simply didn't know who Chigiri was.

He doesn't seem to find though, as a grin spreads on his face. With his dimples and the way his eyes disappeared, made it contagious it was hard not to smile too.

"For you, my love." Chigiri hands you the bouquet of flowers, you accept shyly. Not only it was your first time receiving flowers, but you'd never expected your first to be from an idol you were fake dating. His romantic action slowly gains attention, a few girls walking past and whispering enviously how they wish it was them, and a group of boys calling out "w rizz'.

"Thank you darling." You cringe a bit at the pet name, it wasn't even that bad, it just felt wrong calling a friend that. "I love them!" Unlike the attempt at using a pet name, your exclamation was truthful, making it a lot easier for you.

"Let's go inside, shall we?" Chigiri reaches out a hand, and by now the strangers nearby were swooning, regardless of whether they knew who he was or not.

You accept, fingers intertwining with his, as you go to your designated room.

"y/n, this literally doesn't make sense."

What was initially a 'study date' became a confused tuition session, with Chigiri staring in disbelief how you're able to do math well with ease.

"Okay, all you have to do in sub in the values into quadratic formula, it'll work as long as it's in standard form, which is ax squared plus bx plus c." You write down the process with your explanation, but it doesn't seem to help.

"But the answer comes out as a long decimal, doesn't that mean it's wrong?" Gosh he wasn't lying when he said he struggles with math.

"Hyou, I hate to break it to you, but we've reached the age where annoying numbers doesn't guarantee that it's wrong."

But he completely dismisses your clarification, now grinning like an idiot.

"You called me Hyou. Not Chigiri. We're not on last name terms now."

"That's lovely, but that will not make you pass this exam, Chigiri Hyoma."

"No- Go back to Hyou, please? If Rin finds out you called me by my full name I don't think I'll ever see the light of day again."

"Then, Chigiri Hyoma, I advise you at least attempt the first question to avoid that." You continue with the formal tone, finding his reaction to his full name hilarious. "Why are you studying though? You're successful enough without academics and college." You had assumed the same for Rin, but it turns out he was actually considering a change to sports psychology instead of entertainment.

"Hmmm, I guess it's just interesting to have goals outside of work. It'd be cool for my image if I perform well and do well in school."

Right, of course to someone like Chigiri grades are just a form of bragging.

Contradicting your thoughts, you smile. "For that to happen you've got to understand someone as simple as this." Your mechanical pencil taps at the worksheet. "I assure you, decimals and surds aren't that scary."

"What were surds again?"

Oh my god.

"Am I really that bad at math?"

Together, you walk out of the library and it's already dark, with buildings illuminating the night sky and the moon greeting the world hello. You're exhausted, you've studied for a lot longer before but tutoring someone who rarely pays attention in class was a lot worse.

"Yeah, you are." The blunt and dry answer has him gasping with forged shock.

"How could you... I'm better than Rin though, right?"

"No." Another honest answer, this time he's genuinely shocked.

"Surely not...?"

"Rin knows what the asymptote is."

"So do I, they only touch a line once."

"... The asymptote doesn't touch anything at all. The whole point of it is that the line approaches it but never touches it."

"I was close enough."

"You really weren't-" By then, both of you were bursting into laughter. You'll admit you didn't get as much done as you wanted, but it was fun. More importantly, the awkwardness and tense you felt around him died down after spending hours convincing him that it isn't the end of the world if the answer isn't an integer.

"You're catching the bus here, right?" You nod in response. "I'll wait for it, I can walk home from here."

"Hyou, it's really fine. The bus app says only 5 more minutes."

"I insist, and," He takes out his phone, "Photo, remember? Like I said I'll keep your face out of it. Lift up the flowers a bit."

With the help of Chigiri's instructions you're able to position the bouquet perfectly, it conceals your face entirely but the photo still looks pretty.

"Is this good?" He confirms with you, posting it after you approve of how the photo turned out. "I'll see you at school." The bus is approaching now.

"Yeah, thanks for today." The flowers are held tight in your arms, against your chest.

"I should be saying that, you've helped a lot."

And you've done a lot more. "It's really fine, let me know if you need more help with math another time."

Chigiri nods, accepting your offer. "Text me when you get home, yeah?" You promise him you will, as you get onto the bus and stare at him through the window until he disappears from your view. The flowers remain hugged to your chest, with a smile refusing to leave your face.

EIGHT | TEN | MASTERLIST

PAIRING. chigiri hyoma x reader

SYNOPSIS. school gets overwhelming with constant rumours and accusations, thankfully someone is willing to help. but what happens when this mutually beneficial agreement escalates into something more?

GENRE. social media au, fake dating, idol / actor au

TAGLIST. @izzylovestnbhd, @angelchigiri, @punkhazardlaw, @silly-ez, @y-sabell-a, @mellozhi, @luvlunazx, @oldest-dream-pdf, @misfits1a, @hoshithinker

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sussysluttyscorpio · 1 year

Text

Libra Placement Observations

(This picture doesn't belong to me in any way) (These may apply to 7th house placements too. Please tell me if it does)

Libra Sun:

~I've said it before and I'll say it again. Libra Sun is the least worst debilitated placement amongst all other debilitations. Okay, don't thrash me in the comments just yet. Hear my explanation out first.

Imagine looking at the sun. You can't, right? Exactly. It's too bright for your eyes. Sun is exalted in Aries, meaning, it is the brightest in that particular sign BUT Sun is debilitated in Libra, meaning, it can't shine as bright and is rather dull than all other signs, i.e., it is easier to look at. It doesn't hurt your eyes, it's rather pleasing to your eyes than when Sun is in other signs.

This is why manyyyyyy celebrities or even the popular kids at school generally have Libra Sun (Strictly Sidereal). They are pleasing to look at, a soothing balm to your eyes.

~Libra Sun people are ✨gifted✨ when it comes to Art. Any sort of art: Dance, Music, Painting. Generally, I've noticed them to be good in painting but yes, some art form. They have a knack for it.

~Libra Sun people are very diplomatic? Balanced? They are allergic to conflicts? I mean, they do stand up whenever required, and are not scared of bitch slapping someone. When I say they hate conflict, I mean they are the people least likely to start a conflict out of boredom or start ruckus. Well, at least not deliberately. Haha. (unless there is an aspect of Rahu/Mars on it)

~And why the hell are Libra Sun people sooooo prettyyyy. Like, every time I meet a pretty girl, she's mostly a Libra or Leo something. Popular, Pretty.

~Libra Sun gives me Elena Gilbert vibes from The Vampire Diaries. The way she actually gives selfless vibes but everything ends up revolving around her. The way it feels like she wants to give up for others but everybody ended up giving up their everything for her.

~Since Sun represents our ego, Sun being in Libra, in the sign of its enemy Venus, we could say that a person might face with a lot of bruises on their ego since Sun, the king, is now a mellow, soft person. Sun has lowered down, it's at its lowest. A sunset. Meaning, your partnerships, friends, maybe romantic partners might bruise your ego in some way.

After all, it is a debilitation for some reason. The adversities are going to be there. Oh and why the bruising ego? This is because Libra Sun people have high, and I mean HIGH, tendencies to look for validation elsewhere.

They don't feel enough if they don't receive this validation from either their peers or their loved ones. It's what keeps them going. Like a response that this is the right way, that 'their' way is the right way.

As a result, I'd suggest, not confirm, not declare, SUGGEST that these people may suffer from self esteem issues, maybe in their formative years. That is why certain Libra Sun people may have a reputation of 'pick me' because they crave validation and, erhm, they may go to quite some extents to receive that.

For example, Dan Humphrey from Gossip Girl. The poster kid for Libra Sun. Validation= creating Gossip Girl. Going to any extent= putting up just anything on there for everyone to see for the sake of I don't even know what.

But like I said, this may happen just in the formative years. They grow more mature with time since Malefic planets (like Sun) improve as time passes.

Libra Moon:

~Well, Libra Moon: An easy aspect since Moon feels comfortable in under the rulership of Venus, making the influence of Venus on Moon or the mind very apparent as these people love "love". Ah, what I mean to say is they love the idea of love, not just romantic but also platonic, or harmonious.

~One thing you will find common in every Libra placement is the concept of harmony, peace, love and balance. Some might say that there's justice also but that's a concurrent theme of Aries people too so, I won't talk about it here. (though I will wherever necessary)

~Ah, well. Libra Moon people are excellent mediators or middlemen. I can guarantee that without no doubt. You guys can actually be the "break the ice" dude in you friend circle. Or the "mom" of the group. Not even kidding. Like, I can BET on this one.

I mean, one person who can actually survive a trio is a Libra Moon person. Trios break like crazy quick but Libra Moon person, they'd be like "Hold my cup and you two? Sit." They'd resolve the conflict so swiftly, I'm like "mommy, where were you my whole life?"

~Well, I don't know if it's even an observation but you don't want a casual relationship much, that just bores you. You want a love whose presence makes your heart thump out of your body, who shallows your breathe, who makes goosebumps trail your skin with their touch.

Basically, these people aren't too prone to be playboys/playgirls. They like passion or they'd be much happier being single. If they feel they don't love someone, they'd leave that person because according to them, what's the point of a relationship with no love. "I'd rather be single and sad than tilly-tally with some guy who doesn't make my heart race."

~It's like, their life is on an auto-pilot and they enjoy life being that way. Relaxed. Not obsessing over and wanting to exert their control on people/situations. Just going with the flow, as long as no one oversteps the boundaries Libra Moon person has drawn, they pretty much love their peace.

~Why do Libra Moon people have a thing for Aries placements?

~Also an advice, don't make the perfect image you've drawn of yourself in your head screw with the real person you are. I know you want to be the most aesthetically pleasing person or the prettiest girl ever or the most charming guy ever, but if you take these wishes too personally to your heart, you'll create a disharmonious whirlpool in your head which will suck your peace in and leave you scarred.

Libra Mercury:

~I guess you know by now what I am going to say about this placement. haha.

~I'll start with an example before I start rambling about you guys. Oh and if you want me to change my style of writing observations, do let me know so I can keep writing the way I do. haha. (Cardi B vibes)

~Okay so, when I say Libra Mercury, I picture a period drama with corset-wearing women who speak with great calmness, soothingness and elegance. Someone without a single rude nerve on their tongue.

Like when we say that certain person's voice just brings peace to my heart, for me or according to me, they classify as Libra Mercury.

~But, if I put my picture of Libra Mercury in today's generation, I'd say maybe scratch out the elegance part. I mean, I don't wanna stereotype. Women or people, they cuss. Everybody these days cusses but I'd, umm, maybe word it this way.

You probably won't hear a Libra Mercury person cussing out in a way which would make the angels cry. I just maybe don't want to picture that but I don't know. Maybe I'm biased. (Let me know if I am)

~Balancing act is 2nd nature of any Libra placement. Great lawyers, diplomats, counsellors, basically people working in dispute solving scenarios, such cases, Libra Mercurians have quite an advantage to be very honest. They know how to say the toughest of things in the most neutral syntax ever.

Ever heard Anna Hathaway talk? She's a Sidereal Libra Mercury and goodness does that woman calm my very existence. The mannerism, the tone she addresses people with. Sheer elegance.

Like, they aren't very direct with their speech, the way diplomats aren't. They'll convey their point across with such subtlety that would leave their message loud and clear and yet amazed at how they worded it so gracefully.

~Back to the balancing act, I guess Libra Mercury people wouldn't prefer a partner who is very harsh spoken. They, again, love harmonious speech. Balance. Don't underdo or overdo. They won't obsessively message you, like spam you, but they won't either ghost you off too. Just like the scales. Balanced.

~And, somehow, they always end up saying the most pleasing things. They can lie too due to their people pleasing tendencies if the mercury is afflicted. Like, the sweet talkers. The people who 'talk' their way to the top. Reminds me of a certain Libra Mercury. Any guesses?

Kim Kardashian. Yes, she's a Libra Mercury and yes, she definitely seems like a sweet talker to me. Ever noticed how her voice is a little higher pitched than her sisters? It's the influence of Venus on Mercury as being in Libra. Venus is a feminine planet.

But, it's different than Taurus Mercury, mind you. Taurus Mercury have a low pitched yet soft voice. Libra Mercurians could have a high pitched voice.

Take for example:

Zendaya. She's a Libra Mercury baby. Excellent voice. Ever heard her high notes? Superb. And then take. Adele. She's a Taurus Mercury. Oh god, I just loveeee her voice. Like, ugh😮‍💨

Now compare the two's voices. Zendaya's is like raspy, sooth. Adele's is like strong, firm and piercing my dying heart.

(Okay. I feel like I'm digressing away from the topic now so that's about it for now)

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sports-on-sundays · 4 months

Text

Summary: ice skating with Arthur

Requested?: it came from my own mind.

This thing with you and Arthur- it's relatively recent. About three months ago you officially got together, but you've known each other for years before that, just as friends, really. Either way, your relationship- perhaps because you've known each other for so long- has been growing deeper rapidly. Which means your relationship is now deep enough for the two of you to start having arguments. Well, more like silly little squabbles.

The most recent one was concerning Christmas. Arthur had this strange vision in his head that he couldn't let go of that just the absolute best way to celebrate his Christmas with you would be to go ice skating. The only explanation to this is that you can think of is that maybe your boyfriend has been watching a little bit too many overly cheesy American Hallmark movies. At first you thought, No way. Only divorced millennial women watch that crap. But then you thought, But at the same time, it's Arthur. Who knows what planted his strange Perfect Christmas Magic Movie Scene In France dream.

You fought him on it because, frankly, you've never skated before. You know you'll make a fool of yourself and possibly injure yourself. Not exactly what you want to spend your Christmas doing. And not exactly your idea of romantic. Not to mention how much you hate anything having to do with being outdoors when the weather is in the negatives.

But he was set on the idea, and when your boyfriend is set on an idea, as you've been learning, it's hard to convince him otherwise. And finally he had taken your hands, looked you deep in the eyes as if this were the most important thing in all of history, and asked gently, "But Y/n, why? Why don't you want to go? I mean, really. We can bundle up, I'll stick close- it won't be that cold..."

You frowned, looking away, refusing to admit the truth.

"Come on!" he had practically whined. "Just tell me the truth! Isn't that what couples are supposed to do?"

You sighed, fiddling with your fingers, before finally admitting, talking quickly, "Arthur I've never skated before in my life and I don't want to fall and make a fool of myself."

He blinked in slight surprise, but then smiled. "Oh... Why didn't you just tell me? It's fine- I'll make sure you don't fall. It'd be nice to be able to help you."

Your brow knitted together. "Nice to be able to help me?"

"Yeah. Because you hardly ever let me help you."

So in the end, basically, he convinced you. And now here you are, sitting on a freezing cold bench, holding out your legs as Arthur ties your new skates up, which he bought for you. They're a shiny, slick black color with a red stripe. You can't deny- they do look pretty sick.

The two of you get up and walk the few steps to the rink, arms linked. The wind is biting, and despite the Christmas music playing and the glowing fairy lights everywhere, to you it feels like quite a bleak winter night.

But one look at Arthur's big smile and rosy cheeks convinces you it's really not so bad.

Then you go out on the ice. Arthur holds both your hands in his, staring at you with sincere eyes. And with that goofy grin, of course.

And then he lets go of your hands, just like that!

"Arthur!" you shout, your nerves on the edges as you hobble. He tries to take your hands again, but you fall down, right on your butt. "Arthur!" you cry again, in annoyance. "I thought you said you wouldn't let me fall! Now I probably look like an idiot- someone here is bound to have caught that on video. I don't wanna look like a-"

"Hey, calm down," he says, bending down. You have a passing thought of how much balance and awareness of his body he must have to be able to bend down that naturally in skates on slippery ice without falling flat on his handsome face. "I'm sorry, okay? From now on, I won't let go of you unless you tell me to. And don't worry- there aren't many people around tonight. It's too cold for them."

"It's too cold for me, too," you whine as he helps you up off the hard ice. You reckon that will leave a bruise or two.

He gives a dumb pouting face. "Come on, Y/n. You'll warm up soon enough. Let me teach you how to skate."

"I don't trust you," you frown, and you'd cross your arms if you weren't holding onto Arthur's shoulders for dear life.

"You should!" he counters.

"You let me fall!"

"I said I wouldn't let you go again. And that I'm sorry. Do you think I'm not strong enough to make sure you don't fall?"

You don't answer, because obviously he is.

And then your long evening of learning begins. Time is hard to measure, so you're not sure how long it takes until Arthur asks you, "Do you think I can let go? You seem to have the hang of it..."

But in a moment of self-doubt, you shake your head no and murmur, "No... You can just hold onto me, Arthur."

And he honestly doesn't seem to mind this answer. He takes you out to the middle of the ice, though, and slowly, you skate together. He then twirls you, which causes you to scream, laugh, and cling onto him, scolding, "You could've warned me!"

"Well, did you fall?"

"No..."

"Was that fun?"

You grin softly. "Sure. Yeah."

"So there was no need to warn you!" And suddenly, he does it again.

Soon enough, though, you're back on the bench where you started, shivering, slipping back on your warm, fuzzy boots. "A-Arthur..." you whine, you teeth chattering and splitting up your speech, "I- It's fr-fr- eezing...! I'm so c-c-cooold."

He's silent for a few seconds, and when you look up at him, you see there's a frown on his face. He turns and meets your eyes, murmuring, "Y/n... I'm sorry..."

You blink in surprise. "For what?"

"I don't know..." He's sitting on the edge of the bench, shifting. "I know you didn't want to do this and probably the whole time you were just pretending you were having fun but really you weren't and I should've just listened to you when you said this wasn't your thing so-"

"Arthur." You cup his cheeks, making him look you in your eyes instead of down at the snow-covered ground. "I wouldn't fake it or lie to you. It was something I genuinely thought I would hate. But it ended up being so much fun because of you. I loved it when you taught me. I loved it when you held onto me. I loved it when you twirled me. I know I've been acting a little grumpy, but the truth is, I don't regret coming at all. I'm so glad you convinced me. Okay? Sure, I'm a little cold right now, but I'll live."

"Oh..." he nods, that lovely smile slowly coming back. "Well..." He wraps his arm around you, pulling you into him. He kisses your cheek, love, comfort, warmth channeling through his lips. "Maybe I can help keep you warm, huh?"

You smile out at the, truthfully, beautiful winter scene, and nod. "I think that would be just perfect, Arthur."

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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years

Text

"King and Lionheart" - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x anxious!Reader

[TW: anxiety]

<Self-indulgend bc I'm an anxious person>

[1k followers celebration!]

SUMMARY: Bradley Bradshaw, the king of social events. And you - his beloved lionheart.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.8k

Currently listening to: 'King And Lionheart' - Of Monsters and Men

The easiest way to find Bradley Bradshaw in public was to follow any loud sounds indicative of social life - music, laughter, talking. So one can only imagine the kind of uproar his sudden absence caused. A night of drinks along with games and Bradley Bradshaw, who was sound of body and mind just that morning, didn't show up?

"Where's Bradshaw?" Hangman asked less than an hour into their night out. Maybe he missed their friendly scuffles or maybe he missed Bradley's annoyance when he loses a game of pool.

But no one could give Jake a definite answer - a shrug and shooking of heads were the only explanation they could think of.

"Probably just running late," someone proposed and it would have been equally reasonable and probable if it wasn't for the fact that when Bradley happened to be late, he would always show up with Maverick - no doubt the indirect reason for said lateness. Pete, however, was sitting with the rest of the group at the Hard Deck. It seemed as if Rooster, akin to a stone thrown into a lake, simply vanished - very unlike him.

"Maybe call him?" Phoenix suggested while aiming the cue. Currently, she was leading the game of pool, having two cue balls less left than Jake.

"I already tried," said Pete. There was a hint of defeat in his voice as if he was willing to leave Bradley to his own devices - wherever he might have been at the time. "Maybe he's with his girl."

"A girl?" Fanboy repeated. He was about to take a sip of his drink but the surprise made his hand freeze right in front of his lips. His dark eyebrows furrowed. "Who?"

"What?" Pete asked in shock. Suddenly, he was drowning in disbelief and a dry chuckle left his mouth before he continued. "He didn't tell you? Jesus Christ, he doesn't talk about anything else."

The aviators laughed at his groan.

"You don't have to do this, you know?" Bradley asked once more. He said that so many times already you were beginning to think it was him who didn't want you to go. It wasn't that improbable really - he grew to recognize the small and easily overlooked symptoms of your anxiety and the sight, no matter how familiar to him, always struck a worried string in his heart. Quite obviously, he hated to see you in distress. "If you're not up for it, we can stay."

But the decision should have been made a long time ago - preferably over an hour ago when you were meant to leave for the night with his friends.

"To be perfectly honest, I'd rather bury my head in the sand in the middle of the Sahara desert than leave the house but I know it's gonna be good for me to go. Besides, they're your friends and colleagues. I have to meet them at some point."

You knew that this feeling was foreign to Bradley. Perhaps, it was partially the very reason why he never pushed - he couldn't understand what you were going through and therefore never thought that he had any right to make demands or give you empty advice. You were truly grateful for his uncharacteristic willingness to accept a certain lack of knowledge and support your choices.

In a way, you were still unsure how the universe made it happen that you and Bradley, very similar but very different people, have ended up as a couple. He always wanted to be wherever was the loudest and you always chose the most faraway table at the restaurant. From a different point of view, heaven itself couldn't think of a better match: he would deal with social situations and you would help him calm down and bring a little peace to his ludic pastimes.

Although, it wasn't always like this. Bradley had a tendency to shove feelings into his pockets and then, when those pockets are filled to the brim, flip them inside out as if he was looking for spare change. One such thing happened when he reached some boundary of his and couldn't take the perceived mixed signals you were giving him - the timid and short touches, the way you would avoid his gaze after staring for too long or how you refused to stay until the end of the party. Those and some other things made Bradley question whether you were into him at all. He thought that, maybe, you just wanted a guy to entertain you or buy you dinners. That very argument was also the first time he had ever seen you cry and, to make matters worse, he was partially to blame and not for a good reason. The truth, that you're simply anxious, sucker punched the air out of his lungs - Bradley Bradshaw felt like an utter fool. Only then did he realize how difficult things must be for you and so he believed when you had told him that despite struggling to do so, you're doing the best you can to push past your boundaries, to somehow manage that bothersome part of you and which source you couldn't quite name.

'I don't know why I'm like this', you cried that fateful night while shame and regret gnawed at Bradley's heart. 'But I'm trying my best.'

Sometimes, he still apologizes for that fight, although he truly shouldn't - it was just the clarification the two of you needed to really become close and understand each other. Maybe a little crude but you always believed that if it wasn't for those tears and frustrations on both sides, Bradley Bradshaw would already be an ex.

"It doesn't have to be today," he reminded you in a soft voice. Bradley's hand was on your knee and for a moment you wondered whether he has ever realised that he does that when he worries about you. "I'm not gonna think less of you if you decide to stay home. I just want you to be alright, sunshine."

"I know," you answered decisively with a slight nod of your head. Bradley seemed surprised when you got up from the couch and grabbed your purse. "But today I feel really fed up with my own shit. Now come on, they've been waiting for us long enough."

The sun had nearly set, painting the sky over Miramar in various shades of purple and navy as the first stars became visible just over the Eastern horizon. The air was warm and so was the wind that shyly attempted to carry away the lighter parts of your clothes. No matter how fast or slow Bradley was driving, the houses of the fighter town passed by in a blink, while the mighty ocean stayed right where it was, unbothered by the people living on the shore. Perhaps it was its unmatched power that made it stay so calm - if only you could be at least a little bit like that sapphire depth...

"You know, I envy you," you spoke up after a few minutes of driving in silence. Bradley looked at you in confusion before quickly looking back at the road ahead. "You don't need a pep talk to make a five-minute phone call or five days to mentally prepare for a party and you don't overthink everything you do. It's like you're a king and I'm just a lionheart."

"If I'm a king, doesn't that make you a queen?" he asked. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the very well-known to you playful grin. You could already tell he was adding another nickname to the already long list of words he chose to call you instead of your name.

"And what queen refuses to talk to people?"

"Mine," Bradley answered casually.

He had a talent for making wax poetic sound completely normal and not special or attention-grabbing. In a sense, it was quite impressive how Bradley managed to turn the general majority of situations to his favour. At least he did when it came to flirting with you.

As the distance to the Hard Deck decreased, your anxiety only grew; your fearful mind replaying all sorts of scenarios rich with awkwardness, embarrassment and humiliation. Halfway from the parked car to the beach bar, you suddenly halted, having to take a deep and slow breath. It worked most of the time... well, sometimes.

"Hey, queen," he whispered leaning in. The loud music played in the bar was fairly well audible from the outside. "I'll be here to hold your hand." Bradley squeezed your hand to make a point. Somehow, with his warm hand surely holding your own, the bar didn't feel as loud or as stuffed - socialising wasn't as overwhelming.

He could tell you were stressed but also immensely relieved. Although he never told you that, he couldn't quite wrap his head around the possibility of his friends disliking you. With your witty humour and heaps of random knowledge, Bradley had trouble imagining you as an unlikeable person - something that your anxiety painted as more than a probable scenario. But, to be honest, he couldn't be possibly more biased than he already was, keeping his watchful eyes on you to the point of Pete making a few lighthearted comments about just how whipped he was. Truthfully, Maverick couldn't be more right.

In a way, he felt proud of you if not impressed. Both, perhaps. Bradley had seen you at your lows when any interaction with a living creature was akin to climbing Mount Everest in a bikini and with a twisted ankle. But now, reliving your laughter, jokes and a few games of pool, he found it truly remarkable that you had enough perseverance inside you to push past your fears.

"Doesn't the lion become brave in the end?" Bradley asked while waiting for the light to turn green. Miramar was one of those rare places where nights are just as pleasant and toasty as the days. The warm wind tugged gently at your clothes, bringing to mind the unbearable romance and melancholy of summer.

"Sorry?"

"In the Wizard of Oz." He stared at you for a moment before looking back at the, mainly empty, road. "At the end of the story, didn't he get like a courageous heart?"

"I don't remember actually," you answered with laughter in your voice. Bradley's question seemed random at best. "I think so? Yeah, I think he did."

The light turned green and Bradley resumed driving to your house. With one hand on the steering wheel, he grabbed your palm and gently kissed its knuckles.

"I love you, lionheart."

You noticed how his eyes darted towards your blushing face - the road was lit well enough to make the flush quite obvious. Bradley smiled to himself, visibly amused by your bashfulness.

"Is this a way to get me to call you a king?" you asked.

He didn't answer right away. Staring at his profile, disappearing and reappearing in the yellow lights of street lamps, you noticed that his smile only grew wider.

"...Maybe."

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