#like the ENTIRE time i've been watching him i've just been waiting for him/his achievements to be treated with some proper fucking respect

[andthebubbles]

.

[theostrophywife]

chicken noodle soup.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

song inspiration: is it really so strange? by the smiths

author's note: just a soft fluffy comfort fic cause i've been thinking about matty lately and i needed cheering up after the end of kwaf. let's all laugh at the fact that i set a 1k limit on this fic only to fail miserably lmao 😭

Mattheo Riddle was not a fan of Mondays. 

Most of the time, Mattheo spent the first day of the week nursing a hangover and getting higher than a hippogriff at the Astronomy Tower with his friends to achieve equilibrium. The only thing he looked forward to every week was the prospect of riling you up in class. To be fair, it didn’t take much to get under your skin. Being himself seemed to do the trick. 

As he walked through the castle halls, Mattheo smiled to himself as he plotted out all the different ways he could provoke you on this dreadful day. For some sick and twisted reason, he reveled in the fact that only he could manage to rouse such a violent reaction out of you. There was something satisfying about the way your eyes blazed, your rosy cheeks tinged with heat as you told him off.

Maybe he'd flirt with you today. Tell you how good you looked in your short little skirt. Watch as you turned as red as the tie around your neck. His pretty little Gryffindor good girl. In Mattheo's mind, you were his to tease and taunt.

With his usual swagger, Mattheo sauntered into Advanced Transfiguration fully prepared to test out his new tactics on his nemesis, but you were nowhere to be found. 

At first, he figured that you were just running late. Throughout the duration of your rivalry, Mattheo had never once witnessed you skip class. He would’ve bet his entire cigarette supply that you’ve had perfect attendance since first year. When Professor McGonagall started the lesson and you were still missing in action, Mattheo was understandably concerned. 

The uneasy feeling in his stomach didn’t mean that he was worried about you though. This was purely about mutual benefit. Mattheo couldn’t very well have his Transfigurations partner skipping out on lessons. Even though he regularly did so himself. But still, that was different. Everyone knew he was a delinquent. You, on the other hand, were anything but. Until today, you’ve probably never missed a class in your life. 

Mattheo waited. Surprisingly, the two of you had the majority of your classes together. All of which dragged more than usual since you weren’t there to yell at him for dicking around. When you still hadn't turned up for Charms or Herbology, he became convinced that something was horribly wrong. Missing one lesson was alarming, but three in a row? That was entirely out of character for you. 

When Professor Sprout finally dismissed the class, Mattheo sauntered over to Granger’s desk. As always, she was surrounded by her two dimwit friends who immediately tensed the second he loomed near. Potter and Weasley shot him matching menacing glares, but Mattheo ignored them entirely. 

“Granger,” he drawled, leaning against the wooden desk. “Care to tell me where my partner’s been all day?” 

The Gryffindor girl appeared a bit perturbed by the question. “Why do you want to know where Y/N is?” 

Mattheo sighed in exasperation and produced the set of notes he’d taken during class. A first for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually listened to an entire lesson, let alone take notes, but he knew that you would have a million questions for him when you returned. The notes were his way of saving himself from your relentless interrogation. 

“Figured the little know-it-all would want my notes.” 

“Y/N is feeling a bit under the weather,” Hermione said cautiously. “I can take the notes to her if you’d like.” 

“No.” Mattheo declared rather suddenly. He cleared his throat and attempted to smooth over the sharp response. “No, McGonagall tasked me with it. I don’t want her docking points from my house when she finds out that you did my dirty work for me.”

Hermione raised a brow. “Sure.” The quirk of her mouth told Mattheo that she wasn’t convinced by his excuse. “Well, Y/N is resting up in the tower if you fancy a visit.” 

After a quick detour to the kitchens, Mattheo made his way over to Gryffindor tower. It was surprisingly easy to gain access to the lion’s den. He simply threatened a third year to let him in and got on with it. They truly needed to upgrade their security measures. One glare was all it took for Creevey to crumble and cave. 

With a satisfied smirk, Mattheo walked past the gaudy common room. For Salazar's sake, hadn't the Gryffindors ever heard of subtlety? The decor consisted solely of crimson and gold and the furnishings looked like something out of that muggle show his nan loved to watch—Antiques Roadshow. Antique was right. The worn out couch that he passed looked older than him.

Merlin, now he was starting to sound like Malfoy. Mattheo hurried along before he caught the urge to fold origami notes and chuck it at Potter's head. Fortunately for him, the place was devoid of the Chosen One or anyone for that matter.

By now, his fellow classmates were all in the Great Hall eating dinner, which he was thankful for. It was no secret that Mattheo’s presence wouldn’t be welcome here and he wasn’t really in the mood to fight his way through the Gryffindors just to deliver a note from the kindness of his black heart. Thank Salazar that there wasn’t a single soul in the tower to bicker with. Until he reached your dorm, of course. 

The relationship between the two of you was volatile to say the least. Despite Mattheo’s reputation, you weren’t shy about telling him off. When you were first assigned as partners, Mattheo had fully intended to let you do all the work while he skipped class to smoke, but he quickly realized that this would not be the case. You hunted him down at his hideout in the Astronomy Tower and discovered him blissfully sharing some premium grade mirthroot with Theo and Draco. When you found him, you were so angry that you dragged him by the ear all the way to the library, much to the amusement of his friends. Needless to say, Mattheo never missed a study session again. 

In a way, Mattheo admired you for it. Aside from his friends, everyone in the castle feared him. It was sort of refreshing to have someone call him out on his shit. Especially if that someone was a funny, feisty, ferocious Gryffindor who he enjoyed pestering every chance that he got. Mattheo always did have a penchant for girls with an attitude problem. 

Even as he knocked on your door, the Slytherin boy couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when he heard you grumbling from the other side. 

“Oh, for Godric’s fucking sake, what is it now?” 

The door swung open, revealing a very pissed off Y/N. Clad in striped pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers, you placed a hand on your hip and frowned. Even in the throes of sickness, you still somehow managed to inject venom in your glare. Mattheo grinned like an idiot. 

“Nice slippers, princess.” 

You huffed, crossing your arms. “What do you want, Riddle?” 

“To make sure my partner doesn’t slack.” He waved his set of notes around. “Don’t think your sickness excuses you from studying.”

“This is payback for making you revise with me after you fell off your broom and broke your arm, isn’t it?” 

Mattheo cringed as he recalled the quidditch accident that sent him to the infirmary for a week. In true Y/N fashion, you were sitting by his bedside with a stack of books in your lap the second he woke up. Madam Pomfrey hadn't even put his arm in a sling yet before you were drilling him on proper spell enunciation and wand movements.

“You terrorized the infirmary with your mnemonics,” Mattheo said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s my turn now. This is sweet revenge, Y/N.” 

You squinted at his barely legible handwriting. “I’m just surprised you took your head out of your arse long enough to take notes.” 

“Glad to see that illness hasn’t lessened your bite. If anything, those teeth seem a little sharper than usual.” He leaned against the doorframe and smiled down at you. “Feeling a bit feral, princess?” 

“Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?” you quipped, baring your teeth at the aggravating boy. 

The gesture appeared intimidating for a full second until you sniffled and launched into a coughing fit, which made Mattheo frown. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Of course I am. I regularly cough my lungs out on nosy Slytherins whose sole purpose of existence is to make my life a living hell.”

He pressed the back of his hand against your forehead. The way his brow furrowed strangely resembled concern. Mattheo trained his chocolate brown eyes on you, examining the rosiness of your cheeks and the slight pinch of discomfort in your features.

"You're burning up." Mattheo's hand dropped from your forehead to the side of your neck. He pressed his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the erratic beating of your heart underneath his touch. It was strangely intimate. "You have an elevated heart rate."

You flushed and swatted his hand away. "Well, yes. That usually happens when one is ill."

"Come on, you should sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do, Riddle."

Mattheo rolled his eyes before dragging you by the elbow. Your protests fell on deaf ears as he barged his way into your dorm and walked you over to the bed. You watched as he pulled up a chair next to you before rifling through the contents of his backpack. Out of the sordid mess of his belongings, Mattheo produced a small container of soup. With a flick of his wand, he conjured a spoon. 

“Here, have some of this. It should help.”

As soon as he pried the lid open, the heavenly smell of chicken noodle soup filled your senses. Mattheo scooped up an equal amount of soup and noodle and blew on it to cool it down before tilting it towards you. The sight of him offering you food like you were some helpless toddler was only slightly insulting. You swore to Godric that if Mattheo started making airplane sounds, you’d strangle the bloody twat.

 “I can feed myself, you know.” 

“Just eat the damn soup, Y/N.” 

You rolled your eyes in return, but obliged nonetheless. Despite the source, you could never resist comfort food.

“Chicken noodle soup?” 

As soon as you tasted it, you knew that it wasn’t just soup. It was your favorite soup. The very same one that Winky made every third Wednesday of the month. You knew because you looked forward to it every time. It was even marked on your calendar. That’s how much you liked it. 

Mattheo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know it’s your favorite so I bribed Winky to make some.” 

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “How do you know it’s my favorite?” 

For once in his life, Mattheo looked utterly uncomfortable. He averted his gaze and busied himself by stirring through the carrots and celery. “You, uh, mentioned it in class once.” 

You couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it was the fever talking, but you thought that was sweet. “You remembered that?” 

Mattheo looked up, a stray curl kissing the tops of his cheekbones as he met your gaze. The shy smile on his face was alarmingly endearing. Sometimes when you looked at those angelic curls and stupid big, brown eyes, you forgot that you were supposed to loathe him. “Of course. It’s my favorite too.” 

You chuckled, sniffling a little. “It’s like a hug in a cup, right?” 

The curly headed boy nodded. “It totally is.” 

After you finished the soup, you expected Mattheo to take his leave. Instead, he inspected the vials of potions laying out on your night stand. He read through every label, frowning a little. 

“You should really have some pepperup potion in here.” Mattheo remarked as he arranged the vials one by one. “Are you sure this dose is potent enough? Maybe you should ask them to brew something stronger.” 

“Pomfrey prescribed them herself. No offense, but I think I’ll take her years of healing experience over your expert opinion.” Mattheo gasped rather dramatically, which made you chuckle. “As much as I appreciate the notes and the soup, I don't think it's wise for you to stick around. I’m feeling a bit better, but I might still be contagious.” 

Mattheo shrugged. “It’s alright, I’m not scared of a little cold. Besides, I still have to go over the Transfiguration assignment with you.” 

“Aren’t you worried that I’ll get you sick?” 

“Not really,” he said, waving off your concern. “I know you’re going to pester me about everything you missed in class, so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.” 

To your surprise, Mattheo’s notes were extremely detailed.  It was a bit hard to read given his boyish scrawl, but with a little help in translation, you were making great progress in becoming fluent in Riddle. The more Mattheo explained the concepts and ideas that were discussed in each class, the more baffled you were. You've always known that he was smarter than he let on, but this was borderline impressive.

“How do you know all of that?” 

“I asked.”

“You asked?” Mattheo stared blankly at your surprised expression. “You never ask questions in class.” 

“I never had to since you're always there interrogating the professor like the little know-it-all that you are. Thanks to your absence, I had to fill your role in class today.”

You grinned. It grew wider and wider, spreading until your cheeks hurt. Mattheo glared at your joyous expression. “What? What’s that shit eating little grin for?” 

“You missed me.”

Color flooded Mattheo’s cheeks. You were surprised to find how well crimson suited him. It was almost the exact shade of your house colors. “Don’t be ridiculous—”

“Riddle, you asked questions in class. You took notes for me. You brought me chicken noodle soup." Mattheo flushed as you pointed out the obvious. "You totally missed me.” 

“If you tell anyone, I’ll hex you.” 

“Admit it, Mattheo. Your day was utterly dull without me.” 

Mattheo rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat. “Fine, you’ve got me. I was bored out of my mind without you around. How else am I supposed to pass the time if you’re not there for me to argue with?” 

“There’s plenty of other people in the castle that you could bicker with.”

“Yeah, but they’re not you.” 

He seemed a little shocked by his own statement, but he didn't try to retract it. In fact, Mattheo almost seemed resigned to it.

“Careful, Riddle. It almost sounds like you have a crush on me.” 

“I’d have to be a bloody idiot to fall for a girl who absolutely despises me.” 

“That wasn’t a denial, you know.” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose like the very idea of it vexed him, but you caught the little smile he hid beneath his fingers. Mattheo snatched the notes from your hands. “Focus on the lesson, will you?” He grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. “I can’t believe I’ve just said that. Look at what you’re doing to me, Y/N.” 

“You’ll live, Riddle.” You poked a section of his notes that you hadn’t quite deciphered. “Now what in the bloody hell is the Gobstopper Ruffian?” 

“The Goblin Rebellion. Merlin, my handwriting isn't that bad.” 

“Are you kidding? A kindergartner writes more legibly than this.” 

The hours passed while you bickered and bantered. You hated to admit it, but you missed arguing with him too. Laying in bed all day had you positively bored, but yet time passed within the blink of an eye as you went back and forth with Mattheo. Somewhere between discussing the possibility of Longbottom running an underground exotic plant ring and arguing over the best Smiths song, the sun had set over the horizon. Mattheo rubbed his eyes and yawned. 

“You look knackered, Riddle,” you teased, patting the spot beside you. “Do you want to lie down for a bit?”

Chocolate brown eyes widened at you. “Lie down? With you? On your bed?” 

“Yes, that’s typically how people do it.” You smirked as he shot you an apprehensive look. “Unless you’re too scared.”’

Never one to back down from a challenge, Mattheo lifted the covers and gestured for you to make room. “Scoot over, then.” 

The jest seemed to have backfired on you because now Mattheo was crawling into bed and making himself completely at home. All the apprehension from earlier melted as he pulled you against him, his chest pressed against your back as he nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder. You stifled a giggle as Mattheo released a satisfied little sigh. 

Mattheo wrapped his arms around you until you were covered in the scent of amber, cinnamon, and leather. You never expected to unearth the fact that Mattheo Riddle was a great cuddler, but yet here you were, reaping the benefits of this newfound revelation. He slipped his fingers through yours and nuzzled closer. 

"Who would've known that Mattheo Riddle was such a great cuddler?"

"If you tell anyone—"

"You'll hex me. Put a curse on my family. Set my possessions on fire. Yes, I know, Riddle. You keep threatening me, but you never follow through. I'm starting to think that you're losing your touch."

Mattheo squeezed your hip before twining your legs together. "I wouldn't test me, Y/N. You're in a very vulnerable position right now."

You chuckled as he scooted even closer. "Maybe, but you won't do anything."

"Why's that, princess?"

"You like me too much," you retorted, chuckling as Mattheo buried his face in your hair. "One day without me and you're already a needy mess."

"You infuriate me," Mattheo whispered against your ear. "But you're also the best part of my day. I couldn't imagine fighting with anyone else but you, my dear nemesis."

"I totally loathe you, Mattheo Riddle."

He chuckled as you snuggled into him. "I loathe you too, Y/N Y/L/N."

The irony of the statement contrasted with how tangled up you were wasn't lost on you. For two people who supposedly hated each other, cuddling with your enemy had never felt so right. The steady beat of Mattheo's heart lulled you towards sleep. You were slowly succumbing to its hypnotic lullaby until Mattheo's voice broke through the silence.

“Y/N?” He murmured against your hair.

You shifted, your eyes feeling heavy as his warmth enveloped you. “Hmm?” 

Mattheo’s voice was low and gravelly, flowing like honey in your ears. “This is nice.” 

You smiled against the pillow, staring at your intertwined fingers. “Better than chicken noodle soup?” 

You felt him grin against your skin before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on your temple. “Way better than soup.” 

TAGLIST

@annaisabookworm @bubybubsters @criesinlies @niktwazny303 @therealallisonspear @athenalikethegoddess @clairesjointshurt @vixzwrites @elle4404

[greeneyed-thestral]

I MET MICHAEL SHEEN. 16/03/24, National Theatre

So, if you've read my post about booking tickets to see Michael, you know all about my what-ifs. But the day was finally here.

I arrived at the National Theatre, followed all the Nye signs and here's the Olivier Theatre. I made my sister buy me the show's programme, hoping I would be able to get it signed.

I find my seat, I'm not in the centre but the stage still feels very close and you can see everything (amphitheatres are always the best).

Lights out. The audience is in religious silence. Can't believe I'm actually here, this is happening.

[skip this part in smaller font, if you want to avoid spoilers] In the words of Staged, he really loses himself in his roles. First of all, it's great to hear him speak in a Welsh accent.

But then we also see him turning back into a child, and you can totally believe he's young and innocent again. His stutter feels so real, his struggle and sadness too. The entire ensamble is great during the classroom scene, where they all help Nye against their bullying teacher (using those big canes to make him look scary really works). Hearing young Nye confessing that at times he thinks he 'shouldn't exist' because of who he is was a gut punch; Michael's delivery of that whole part is incredible, in that moment he really becomes a little boy that allows himself to feel vulnerable and says something dark to a friend. The way he jumps while saying "I can visualise and enunciate!" made me wanna jump too, he was ready to give up and then he found the solution through books, it's the joy and relief you feel when you realise that there is another way and your life is not over.

Now, I've watched musicals all my life and let me tell you that man is meant to be in one. He opened his mouth and all I could see was someone that had been waiting a long time for the occasion to show his talent, truly showstopping. He was so free and happy and confident, singing and dancing spectacularly. I couldn't stop smiling and giggling, we all clapped.

It's clear he means every word he says, and when he points and shouts his political arguments at the audience, those who feel called out must be shaking; I thought 'This is how people in Ancient Greece must have felt everytime they went to the theatre'. His Nye is inspiring, passionate, someone you'd want to follow, he stands up for what he believes in and lets nothing get in his way.

We get to watch him flirt, on all fours, waggling his 'tail'; everytime we think we've seen all he's capable of, he does something like this and surprises us.

But most of all, we see him being scared, first of having to do something, and then of not being able to do enough for all of us. At one point everyone has requests for Nye and I was expecting him to shout "Heal yourselves!" like Jesus in JCS, it totally conveyed what it must have been like to be in his role at the time, overwhelmed with daunting responsibilities.

In general, I appreciated the fact that it wasn't a linear biography, they chose life moments that have universal situations everyone can relate too, like they do in bio-musicals. I loved the staging. The colour palette is so recognisable; the curtains and the beds are used in many different ways so everything is explored at its full potential.

He is on stage basically all the time for more than two hours (sometimes twice a day, can you imagine?). Also barefoot and in his pajamas from start to finish, he looks like a teddy bear you just want to hug and protect.

He bows, looks at Nye's achievements, then leaves the stage.

Standing ovation, applause. I go back to the theatre lobby, I was supposed to wait for my sister, but she's late. Meanwhile, a fan asks me how to get to the Stage Door. I start too fear that I'm going to miss my chance if I keep waiting inside, so I decide to go on my own. After no more than 5 minutes, he's outside with us. Forget Nye, I am living my fever dream. He has just finished his second show of the day and yet he's smiling and listening to each and every one, signing and taking pictures. I know many have said this, but he really is an angel.

My sister arrives, and as soon as I'm sure she has the camera ready, I make my way to him. The two girls next to me who were speaking to him needed a pen and I lent them my sharpie, so I got my chance to look generous in front of him.

And suddently it was my turn. This is as much as my scrambled mind allows me to remember: I tell him I'm Francesca and I'm from Italy, he asks me how long I am going to stay, I confess that I had arrived that morning and just to see him, that I would be leaving already the following morning. I can't even focus while he's signing my programme, I just want to find the right words. I manage to say how I enjoyed seeing his passion, all these different sides of him and how watching him sing and dance has been the highlight of my evening. We take a picture together, I feel his hand on my shoulder and I realise my arm is around the waist of this person I love. I had to thank him again, telling him that he only deserves good things and that we are so lucky to have him. He wishes me a safe trip home, and I melt. I leave and I can't stop trembling. On my way back to the hotel I hold on tight to my signed programme and the sharpie that was in his hands just moments earlier. Only later I will realise that he's also written 'Ciao!', 'love' and 'X', without me asking for it or anything! Seeing him act live was a big gift already, but what followed outside was beyond my dreams. I can't look at the photos without blushing, the way he looks at me in the video and then also strokes my arm for a moment, I mean pinch me now.

The more I think about it, the more I can't believe it happened.

I want to thank everyone that under my first post pushed me and encouraged me to see the pros of doing this, I share this beautiful moment of my life with all of you. <3

[mickyschumacher]

Hi!!! I just wanna say that I really love your writings!!! Their so good hehehe!! Can you do one a mick x wolff!reader?? Maybe one where toto sets them up cause he is tired of seeing them make heart eyes at each other and not making a move HHHH. Thank you lovie!!🤍

𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏  .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: love at times is shy and oblivious. like you and mick. but sometimes all you need is a father and a plan (with some backups!).

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 16+? (suggestive), fluff, poor humour as guaranteed, (loosely) based on the movie 'set it up', no sense of a motorhome ♡︎, mention of christian horner :(, possibly cringe, basically childhood friends to lovers trope, reader is lowkey a menace, confessions are made, toto in line for best dad award?, google translated german :0, a mess in general!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mick schumacher x wolff!fem!reader, joão felix x reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: okay so i've been waiting for a good mick plot but nothing was coming to mind but this! this screams mick! thank you so much for your praise. hope i do them justice with this although the plot holes are there!!

𝐏.𝐒: i'm curious on how people envision themselves as wolff, horner, vettle readers, etc. if you're coloured like me, do you pretend to be adopted or from a previous relationship if it isn't specified? 😭 i mean the explanation has to be viable lmao. maybe you just don't imagine?

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

There were certain values a Wolff had. Those that were just innate.

A Wolff, more often than not, was a leader, intelligent, charismatic, good-looking, and embedded with dad jokes. Additionally, when a Wolff wanted something, they would do whatever to get it. They didn't leave any leaf unturned, they made the rounds and the effort.

It didn't make sense. You had all of those values. Yet, every time you joined the Mercedes garage, your father, Toto, found himself questioning everything.

Take now for example. He was in the beloved Mercedes garage, sat next to the best reserve driver he had ever chosen, Mick.

Parents tend to be protective of their children before they're even born. And it only amplifies after they're born. From which strangers you meet, the roads you cross, the seatbelt you have to wear to the clothes you wear, the suspiciously high phone bill and your romantic endeavours. A father's protection for his little girl was a tad bit stronger than this, special in it's own way.

Toto would do anything to protect his children, especially his little girls. And if any guy was making moves on you, right in front of him, the 'dad' side of him was just waiting to come out.

But he could only do that if someone actually made a move on you. Sure there were other guys but the one sat right next to him did nothing but shyly follow you with his blue eyes and blush in your presence.

Mick was seriously frustrating Toto and his wife. The both of them had watched the German boy watch you with heart eyes ever since the both of you had first met at the Schumacher's house for dinner. You were young back then but hell, within five minutes everyone knew that Mick was a lovesick puppy.

Years had gone by with your friendship becoming stronger. Those same years involved Mick and you being stuck to each other as if you were hip-to-hip. You attended all his races and he supported you in all your academic achievements. And oblivious to you, somewhere along the road you had also become as lovesick as he was.

Toto didn't really realise how fed up he was. He didn't want to interfere. In fact, he wanted things between the both of you to happen naturally. But he just had happen to watch the entire hour and forty-five minutes of 'Set It Up' over your shoulder instead of doing his work and he just had to do something... hell, anything.

━━━━━━━━━━━

First things first... Toto couldn't put the both of you in an elevator. At least not yet. You knew each other while the two bosses in 'Set It Up' didn't, so it didn't make much sense. You probably would never even get to the topic of your feelings. Not without a physical icebreaker of sorts.

Toto needed someone and George Russell just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"George, my boy!" Toto chorused, beckoning the British driver towards him. He slung his arm over George's shoulder, bringing him closer to him. "Do you mind doing me a favour?"

George nodded without too much thought. "Yeah sure. What is it?"

"If you see Mick and Y/N go towards an elevator, stop them and tell Y/N that a guy asked for her number, uh, who was that footballer... ah yes, João Félix, him... he did ask her yesterday right?" Toto looked over at George.

"Uh, yeah. Before you dragged her away... listen, Toto, I'm not sure I can do what you asking me to. I thought none of us were going to mess with whatever's going on between them?"

"You're young, George. One day you'll realise what 'desperate times calls for desperate measures' means. So..." Toto trailed off, eagerly looking for an answer before spotting the hesitant expression on the British driver's face. "Can I pay you do the favour?"

George blankly looked at his boss. "I'm on your payroll, Toto. You already pay me. That also sounds like extortion and bribery."

Toto's eye twitched as an exasperated sigh fell from his lips. He stared at George heavily before giving in. "Fine. You'll be out before Lewis for this week's quali."

The corner of George's mouth teetered up, working to a small grin. "Extortion and bribery... it sounds cool," He said with a nonchalant shrug.

Toto shook his head to himself. "You can try and be less British, George. Just because your ancestors colonised doesn't mean you need to take the same behaviour," He patted his shoulder before leaving, feeling George's confused expression bore into the back of his head.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Toto was a great man. But today was one of those days where George really did question him. Part of him was praying that he didn't see you and Mick head to an elevator. The scenario was so specific that well... the probability was low.

There was no way he was going to see it happen. Not even 30 minutes after he had this conversation and he had just grabbed a coffee and was now heading to Alex...

But the peak of that blonde hair and the familiar shine of your signature glasses caught George's eye. Christ.

"How is that possible?" He muttered to himself, eyeing the both of you as you waited for the elevator to go up the Mercedes' motorhome.

First in quali. Come on, George. You got this!

"Hey guys," George greeted the both of you.

You and Mick turned to him and smiled. "Hey George. How's it going? Ready for practice?"

George nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah, yeah. Good, thanks. Uh, I was just wondering about yesterday... João? Since Toto dragged you away before you could do anything but he was just wondering if you would still consider giving him your number."

George pressed his lips, seeing Mick's eyes narrow from his peripheral vision. God how had the both of you not gotten together yet?

"I didn't know João asked you that?" Mick looked at you with questioning eyes.

You blinked, feeling your heart skip a beat slightly. You weren't sure why Mick's interest was to intriguing to you all of a sudden. You pursed your lips, looking to George. "Oh? I didn't know you knew João like that."

"I... don't. It's... Kika! Kika knows him... you know... Portugal things," He laughed awkwardly, giving a helpless shrug.

"Right..." You nodded slowly. "Uh, I don't know. I mean was considering it, I guess."

"You were?" George and Mick spluttered out in unison.

Your eyes widened at their reaction. "I mean, yeah... kinda?" You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly.

George could see the German driver's head racing a hundred miles per hour. It was time to get out of this mess.

"Okay, well, if you consider it, you could probably DM him on Instagram. Don't ask Kika!" George quickly said. "I mean... you know, she gets very excited to play cupid... anyways, I have to get back to Dudley, but let me know how it goes!"

You and Mick waved goodbye, heading onto the elevator after what felt like forever.

As the doors closed, you looked over at your thought-consumed best friend. "Penny for your thoughts, Mr Schumacher?" You humoured.

Mick briefly smiled before returning to his brooding state. He folded his arms, leaned on the wall of the elevator and stared at you.

Your mouth felt dry and yet you were drowning in your own saliva. There were certain things that weren't healthy for humans: too much sugar, high cholesterol foods, and apparently air-drying your hair. And then there was too much Mick.

The folded arms and his stupid shirt brought your eyes to the muscles you had so desperately been avoiding after Mick had started to work out even more in the past year.

You cleared your throat, trying to think of another topic of discussion.

In your pondering, Mick opened his mouth. "I don't think you should give João your number," He said, bringing his hands to his side, discreetly allowing the fabric of his shorts to soak up his clammy hands.

Your eyes flickered towards his face. You raised brow. "What? Why?" You asked, feeling an uneasy ache gnaw at your chest.

"I..." Mick started, "I mean what if he's a bad guy? You know... I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

Your heart dropped. You felt like an deflating balloon: all blown up, only to be taken down. You mustered a soft smile. "I mean, you can't protect me forever Mick. What are you going to do? Vet the guy on the day of my wedding," You joked.

Mick frowned at your response. The image of you marrying someone that wasn't him was disheartening.

"I won't need to if you get married to someone you know," He shrugged. "You don't know João. You know me."

Oh?

Oh.

You almost did a double-take on your best friend. Did he know what words were falling from his lips. "So what? He's kinda cute. And a five-star FIFA player. I could take the risk. And eventually, I would know him... since that's how relationships work... communication and all," You defended the footballer.

Mick stared at you for a few seconds before blinking out of his short trance. "Right..." He said sharply, pushing himself off of the wall as the elevator opened. He struck out his arm, holding back the door. "You go on. I just remembered I need to talk to Toto."

You flickered your eyes to Mick, trying to read his face. "That's fine, we can go togeth–"

"No," Mick interjected, "it's... it's okay."

Upon the slight widening of your eyes and the startled expression lingering on your face, Mick's innate action was to internally wince. "I'll join you soon. Don't worry. I bring your favourite pastry on the way back, hmm?"

You nodded silently, taking a step out of the elevator and headed towards the lounge with a troubled feeling nagging at your head.

Had you struck a nerve?

━━━━━━━━━━━

Toto couldn't tell what he had done wrong. You and Mick were fine this morning. But after he had told George to push things along between the both of you, a sense of distance radiated off of you.

And George still got out before Lewis for the first quali. Goddamn it.

When Toto raised an eyebrow at you after Mick had slightly brushed you off to talk to Bono, you simply shrugged helplessly.

That night Toto did not get a wink of sleep. Instead, he stared at this hotel ceiling with a twitching eye.

There was nothing he couldn't fix. Whatever was going on between you and Mick right now was just a small bump in the road.

The solution?

A baseball game.

Unfortunately for Toto, baseball wasn't that popular in Brazil. But that didn't mean they didn't do them.

The plan was going perfectly. Toto had offered a 'family day' and gotten you and Mick to join him and Susie to attend a local baseball match between some of university teams. Toto made sure you and Mick were sitting behind him so you had all the privacy you needed. As a dad, he shouldn't be that happy about kiss-cam, let alone bribing the camera operators with the help of Pierre and Kika. But he wanted peace and he was going to get it.

But nothing was easy in life. And Toto could not have predicted this in a million years.

As everyone waited for the game to start, Toto timidly turned his head. He caught the brown eyes of the five-star FIFA player. Giving him a hesitant smile, he averted his own eyes back to the field, cursing himself under his breath. "Scheiße," He muttered through his clenched teeth. Shit.

The tension in the air was thick, to say the least. You sat between João and Mick with blank expression.

João, who was in town for the F1 race, decided to stay back to support a friend in the match. Obviously.

When the footballer on your right extended his hand to Mick, you sucked in a sharp breath. You heavily eyed the firmest handshake you had seen in your life. Letting out a nervous laugh, you sat down before the gesture turned into hardcore glaring.

Still, there was the hope of this kiss-cam.

Toto waited with little patience, hearing João crack jokes in Portuguese that actually made you laugh while Mick took deeper breaths.

It felt like life itself had been poured into Toto once the kiss-cam started on the public. This mattered to him more than whoever was going to win this match.

Toto's face dropped as the camera fell on you.

Your mother pointed at the camera with a gleeful exclamation. Your eyes moved to the screen, widening when you saw yourself and the man next to you.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Toto exasperated quietly.

You turned your head to the right, meeting the equally shocked brown eyes.

"In what way does he look like 'a blonde boy with the face of the greatest racer in F1 history'?" Toto said into his hands, shaking his head slowly.

Mick looked blankly at you and João on the screen before turning to you. He watched you shake your head softly, smiling awkwardly at the camera as the crowd urged you to kiss.

"Oh mein Gott," You murmured to yourself, eyes darting around in panic. Oh my God.

Suddenly, you felt Mick lean in, his fingers sliding under your chin and resting on your cheek. He turned your head slightly towards him.

Your eyes widened upon meeting his baby blues, feeling unnerving giddiness swarm you. You hoped your face screamed, "What are you doing?!"

All Mick did give a small smile, bringing his lips towards you.

Instinctively, your eyes closed, bracing yourself whatever was about to happen. All you could hope for was that this was all a dream of some sort. Maybe you fell asleep in the car?

You skin flushed at the feel of Mick's soft lips on your cheek. Your eyes fluttered open, feeling him linger for a second longer before pulling back.

What on earth?

You weren't sure if you were breathing as you felt his hand move to your leg, covering your hand and giving it a small squeeze. You moved your eyes to the screen. Mick looked unbothered while the crowd erupted in cheers and boos. You, on the other hand, looked flushed.

And Toto?

The urge to run around with his hands flailing in the air was strong.

This was a home run, for crying out loud!

Whoever said jealousy was a disease... thank you!

━━━━━━━━━━━

"Liebling, du solltest jetzt rauskommen," Your mother said to you through the bathroom stall you had been hiding in for the past five minutes. Darling, you should come out now.

You winced as you banged your head against the wall of the stall. You sighed. "I don't think I can. Do you think you can convince the staff the bring a bed? Maybe some food?"

Your mother snorted. "What are you going to do? Live here?"

"Ja. War das nicht offensichtlich?" You retorted, eyes screwing themselves shut after replaying the kiss in your head for the umpteenth time. Yes. Was that not obvious?

Susie sighed, awkwardly smiling at a woman leaving the bathroom. "Y/N... it's Mick. You can't ignore him forever. How long do you think it will truly take for Mick and your father to storm in here after not seeing you for so long?"

You sighed at your mother's response. She was. As always.

The last thing you needed was a headline on ESPN: Toto Wolff and Mick Schumacher caught barging into a women's bathroom.

Christian would have a field day!

You shuddered at the thought.

Susie's ears perked up at your grumble as you fumbled with the lock of the stall. She sported an amused smile at the blank look you gave her.

Slinging an arm around you, she rubbed your shoulder. "Come on, liebling. You got this."

━━━━━━━━━━━

"Oh thank God!" Toto exclaimed after seeing you and your mother come out of the bathroom. "You took forever!"

You narrowed your eyes at your father, avoiding the lingering eyes of a certain German boy. "Maybe next time you shouldn't feed me a hotdog at a baseball game, right?" You pressed with a raised brow.

"Hmm?" Toto mended his brows before nodding profusely. "Right! Right! Yes... that was my bad. Poor thing... you know, Mick, with Y/N being sick and all, I think you should drop her to the hotel. Me and Susie still have a date to go on!"

You and your mother looked at Toto increduolously.

"We do?"

"You do?"

Toto nodded, grabbing your mother's hand. "Yes! Okay, see you two! Tschüss!" Bye!

With a jaw-dropping expression, you watched your parents leave with a twitching eye.

You heard Mick clear his throat.

Slowly, you turned around with a small smile. Fiddling with your fingers, "So..."

Mick rubbed the back of his neck nervously, a small tinge of pink dancing across his cheeks. "The hotel?" He asked, swinging his keys around the his index finger.

Silently, you both walked out of the stadium and towards the car park.

You furrowed your brows upon seeing the orange and pink laden sky. "What the heck? How is the sun already setting?"

"I mean... you were in there for a long time," Mick shrugged.

The crisp summer evening breeze glided past your flushed skin. Your body winced at the paining silence ensuing between the both of you. You let out a small exhale. "Uh, with the thing before–"

"Yeah?" Mick eagerly turned his body towards you, on edge.

You cleared your throat at the anxious expression Mick sported. "You sighed. "Uh, that was to like... save me, right? Aus Verlegenheit? Danke für das." From embarrassment? Thank you for that.

Mick mended his eyebrows. "Verlegenheit? No. I... that was so you didn't kiss João."

You laughed nervously. "Right! So I didn't have to kiss João."

"No. So you didn't kiss João. There's a difference," Mick pointed out, eyeing your expression carefully.

Your eyes widened at his suddenly soft gaze. You looked up at the sky, hoping the breeze would cool the wave of warmth swirling around you. "That's... that's what I said," You shrugged.

Mick stepped in front of you, forcing you to look at him instead of the sky. "Why do you do that?" Mick asked.

"Do what?" You responded.

"I mean... I–just why do you have such a hard time admitting that I like you?"

You wish you had something to say. Anything. But it was as if the ability to speak had been seized from your throat entirely.

"I mean I know I don't make it obvious. I just thought we had some sort of understanding... you know... the one without words?"

You looked up into his hopeful eyes. Entranced, you leaned in towards him. Your fingers danced across his cheek just the way he had done not so long ago. You watched his eyes close at the feel of your touch, making your heart thud against your chest.

Inching closer, your thumb gently swiped over his lips, feeling his faltering exhale warm the pad of your thumb. "So pretty," You whispered to yourself, eyeing his face.

Mick wasn't sure whether you were talking about him or his lips but he didn't care.

You shuddered, feeling Mick's hand slide around your waist, bringing you closer to him.

Without waiting a second longer, you pressed your lips to his.

Mick's lips were softer than you had imagined, warm to the touch. Your stomach churned upon feeling his fingers skate under the hem of your shirt, rubbing tingling circles on your hot skin.

You hear an unrecognisable breathy gasp fall from your lips. The hair on your body stood straight as goosebumps littered your skin. All because of Mick.

Mick took advantage of the moment, darting his tongue to explore your mouth. He groaned against your lips, pushing your hips even closer to him, feeling the hard outline of his bulge rub against your pelvis.

Fuck.

You were going to combust at this rate.

Mick trembled in your grasp as your hands wandered his taut torso, lingering closely to his v-line.

He pulled away with an indescribable urgency, staring at you with small pants falling from his lips. He held your face with his hand, thumb gliding across your swollen lips. "We can't–" He sighed out, voice hoarse, "No more. Please."

Your thighs clenched at his plea, eyes falling down to his prominent bulge. You were sure he was in a lot of pain right now. The sexual tension between you to had been pent up for years now.

Your tongue darted out, swiping over his thumb briefly before faintly sucking on it. You looked up at Mick. "You're right, we shouldn't," You nonchalantly told him.

Mick's blue eyes danced with a tortured pain, following your tongue carefully. "We... fuck, Y/N," He complained, feeling impossibly tight in his pants.

"We fuck? Direct much?" You teased, removing your lips from his thumb.

Mick stared at you, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. "I was saying... we should do this properly. Not in some parking lot."

"Why not? Car sex is hot. Just imagine!" You urged, amused by the conflict in Mick's eyes.

Imagine he did.

You and him in his God forbidden Mercedes... him making sure every inch of his car was stained with you...

Mick sucked in a sharp breath. "Nope. Come on. Hotel."

You gasped humorously. "In a hotel? Mick Schumacher! Well I never!"

Before you knew it, Mick had whisked you into his arms and into his car, hoping he was not breaking Brazil's speed limits tonight.

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[luviemax]

oopsie daisy!- part 2

a/n: lol it looks like i've summoned some alonso stans!!!! el padre, el plan.... @pear-1206

warnings: idk giving birth #scary...

-> fernando alonso x wife!reader, no physical descriptions of reader

word count: 377 words

part one

masterlist

Being a parent was a wholly new experience to Fernando.

Well, he wasn't exactly old, but he was definitely older than the average first-time parent, mostly because parenthood was one of the necessary sacrifices he decided he had to bear in order to achieve success within his career.

But now, the time had come.

He had two world championships, and to a layman, it may not seem like a lot, but to him, it was essentially what he had been working towards for his entire life. His home win in Barcelona was far behind in his mind, by now. He had much larger things to focus on.

And now, he had achieved yet another milestone in his life, which was being a father.

Well, not yet, but he was about to be.

This had to be perhaps the most agonising experience you had ever been through.

The pain felt like it'd never end. Like there was no light at the end of the tunnel.

Nevertheless, Fernando's hand in yours gently ushers you to the finish line, which happens to be a baby.

When you finally meet your baby girl, you swear you fall in love all over again.

For 9 months, she's something you've been patiently waiting for and nurturing on a daily basis.

And finally, she's here.

Of course, you're beyond exhausted, but never mind that, her simply being here makes it all worth it.

Some days, you weren't even sure you'd be a good mother. But when you finally meet her, the doubts perish away in an instant and your maternal instinct basically takes over.

You and Fernando haven't really chosen a name just yet. You figured that you'd choose when you'd get to meet her. And you have, but you don't really want to rush into the decision just yet.

Fatherhood suits Fernando really well, though.

You watch him wearily, drifting in and out bouts of sleep as you watch him from the corner of your eye, holding your baby.

She looks really small in comparison to him, and hell, she looks really small in comparison to you anyway.

As you float into a land of peaceful sleep, you lovingly admire the little family you've created for yourself.

You could wish for nothing more.

[worriedvision]

Here's the first ending to the poly tighnari and Cyno fic, this was the intended ending before the Zhongli discussion was a thing lol! Ill add in the link for the fic here when I can!

--

A few weeks later was when Cyno discovered you were no longer in Sumeru. He believed that you must have had something come up with your work, and the important thing could have waited, but there was something that didn't feel right. The first person he started dating, and this was the first time you hadn't even seen him once in weeks. It's not like he had to try too hard to see you, always finding it endearing when he saw his first love.

But then he overheard a rumour that you left for work in Liyue. He would have dismissed it if it weren't for the fact this was around the same time you had asked to talk to him and presumably Tighnari, the other part of the relationship. He didn't think you would have went to work in the chasm, solely because you were entirely unfamiliar with the area, but from a work point of view the Chasm was really good to work.

Then he finds out that Tighnari looked into it, and found out quickly that you had left.

"Why have you been lying to me?" Cyno asks, hurt evident in his voice. Tighnari winces, this sound being unpleasant. "I've been worried sick for them, and I'm sure you love them as much as I do."

Tighnari doesn't respond for a good few seconds.

"To put it simply, it looks like they must have had a change of heart." Tighnari responds, hoping Cyno would understand his perspective. From his point of view, you weren't able to keep up with him and Cyno, and you never looked happy especially when your boyfriend had changed how he was with you.

"...You saw them leave, didn't you?" Cynos voice cracks, Tighnari nodding. Cyno takes a deep breath, slowly processing the fact that you were now gone from his life, and Cyno scolds himself for treating Tighnari like an exciting new boyfriend and you like the safe lover that he 'always' had.

Tighnari watches as his boyfriend walks away, a tight feeling in his chest. He knew Cyno wouldn't be able to stay mad, but he didn't feel right about it. He should have actually tried to get to know you, past the stuff everyone knew, but he shut you out when you tried to talk to him.

--

You had been joining a new team of miners that were older and more experienced, and when you were first there, they did quiz you. It was nothing malicious, just for them to check you had a good enough head on your shoulders to navigate through the caves until they went too deep. Satisfied with your answers, they treat you like the 'kid' of the group.

A hobby you had back in Sumeru was stone carving. Sometimes, you had carved small patterns into stones to pass the time when a rock had to be merged with some other material for identification purposes before completing a job. One you always carved to signify where you had been was a four leaf sigil, similar to those ones that hovered. Sure, you didn't have a vision, but this allowed you to at least see the stone carving.

It's like a ritual for you - you had stones ready to deploy, and the miners you worked with found it endearing and cute so they teased you, but they left the stones where they were.

The cavern you were exploring started to show signs of instability, and everyone with exception of the oldest member of the group wanted to leave. When the others go to move back, you see that the bloke wasn't going to leave.

"I'm staying, you guys go ahead." You call out, the man turning to you and placing a hand on his hip.

"Kid, you got a long life ahead of you if you leave." He scolds you. Seeing your gaze not falter, he shakes his head. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

You both walk along, him showing you the picture of his loving wife and his adorable son. The way both of them have genuine smiles, it tells you that this man had people who loved him. You ignore the pain in your heart, listening as he starts rambling about the achievements his 5 year old had done already and a hearty laugh when he finishes his chat, putting his wallet away before he looks over.

"You must have someone yourself." He pokes your side, you realising he was asking about who you had close to you.

"...Promise you won't judge?" The man nods, encouraging you to continue. "Well, back in Sumeru I did have a boyfriend. At first it was really nice, he had his work as a Ma-" you clear your throat, stopping yourself from telling this man about Cynos work. "Well, I can't exactly explain what he does. A really incredible guy."

"I'm feeling a big but in the air." The man says, you nodding your head.

"At one point, he got interested in another guy. It wasn't cheating, it was only that I saw the way he looked at Tighnari. I asked him to have the guy join the relationship, thinking maybe it would be nice." You think to yourself, unsure what else to say. "I tried to get closer to him myself, to know my 'other boyfriend' better, but he couldn't stand my job. My lover stopped giving me the affection he once did, and well I knew that I lost him the moment that man came along." You say. "And that's what brought me to the Chasm."

The man across from you nods, silently agreeing to keep this to himself. You both walk on, and he asks you to tell him when you want to start dating again. It was almost like he himself knew how painful this stuff could be. You keep placing the rocks, your mind screaming at you that these were going to be especially important.

The man falls through the ground, and you instinctively grab him, not following safety guidelines as you grab his side. He understands what you're doing, but not why, simply deciding to hold onto your side as you both fall. You close your eyes, praying that someone could figure out how to get enough elemental energy into the stones of yours to get enough four leaf clovers to get out.

--

Tighnari gets an urgent request to run along to the opening of the Chasm, and he rushes along with the fear in his mind that you were hurt somehow.

The sound is overwhelming for Tighnari, and he almost turns back until he realises people are calling for two names, one of which being yours. Tighnari picks up his pace, grabbing his bow as one stone in particular stands out. It does sound silly in hind sight, but Tighnari got an idea. He infused a bow with dendro, aiming and taking a shot.

His mouth falls open, gasping as he watches four leaf clovers spawning in. His ears pick up on someone using the device, and he keeps aiming and shooting at the rock as he jogs along to get to where the first leaf spawned. Chances are, neither you nor the guy had a vision, so he would have to be the elemental source. He spots the line that implies someone is using the teleporting device, and he expects to see a second one despite not hearing it. When he realises you're holding onto someone, he can't stop himself from dropping everything and sprinting towards you.

You drop to the ground the moment you see the surface, your older colleague pulling you safely away from the edge. Hearing footsteps, your eyes close out of exhaustion after the prior events, thinking it was simply your colleagues.

--

"Sweetheart?" Tighnari hushes out, not able to ignore how the man you had saved with you glared at him "Can you hear me?" Tighnari doesn't even realise he's just given you a pet name, simply administering the best care he could.

"You." He hears someone say. Reluctantly, his head looks up, regretting his actions when he makes direct eye contact with the guy. "So you're the one they were talking about." Tighnari's head tilts, him not understanding the question. "Haven't you done enough?"

Tighnari feels you stir in his grasp, and he turns his attention to you.

"Honey, I'm here." Tighnari hushes out, you not leaning away. "Are you feeling okay?" You groan out, clearly not wanting to stay awake for now.

"I'll be taking them back to Sumeru." Tighnari states, holding you in his arms as he stands up. "Rest assured, I willy take care of them."

"Stop playing with their heart, you twerp." The man growls, his wife reprimanding him before she gets Tighnari to stop for a moment.

"My husband told me about that stone, something about them carving those personally." His wife starts. "Please, I want to thank the both of you. Them for somehow carving those stones to be effective, and you for uh... Doing what that was." She laughs lightly, Tighnari nodding before leaving.

--

You wake up in Tighnaris bed, and you already knew you were back in Sumeru, specifically the region where Tighnari stayed. You get up, holding back the gasp out of the immense pain you got, before you try to sneak out.

"And where do you think youre going?" You hear Tighnari tease, before he gets up and lightly places you back onto bed. "Morning, sleepyhead."

"I need to go back to the Chasm. I have work there, and I need to move on." You explain, crossing your arms before wincing. Tighnari can't help but smirk, him handing you some medication to take for pain relief.

"No you don't." Tighnari states. "After a discussion, your boss and I came to an agreement. You'd create those stones, and I'll even let you get the stone samples from Sumeru yourself, and these would be shipped to them for their own uses." Tighnari explains.

"That solves one problem, but it doesn't change the fact I can't get over Cyno." You explain, Tighnari nodding.

"Well, I did shut you out." Tighnari admits, sitting next to your bed before continuing. "Let's give this a real chance, I think we have more in common that we've thought." He smiles, you nodding before starting to talk.

--

Cyno visits Tighnari a week after the incident, and he wasn't mentally ready to hear your voice. He hears it, and he fails to ground himself before he runs over to the source of the noise, that being laughter from Tighnaris place. Opening the door, there you both are. Tighnari looking rather happy with himself, successfully making you laugh and you leaning into his embrace.

Cyno enters the room, and the both of you look up. Cyno feels like he's in a dream, he had been trying to stop thinking of you but nothing worked. He reaches out, touching you to make sure you weren't an illusion as he stares blankly. After he pauses, he wraps his arms around Tighnari, crushing you in between the both of them. Hearing you yelp, he pulls away apologising before he holds you closely.

"You won't believe what happened" Tighnari stated, him starting to explain what happened while you held Cyno in your arms. Cyno doesn't seem to want to let go, he still think you must not actually be here, especially so close to Tighnari. It felt like he was on cloud nine, both of his lovers finally realising they were also compatible.

[valentine-ofthe-ghostwiththemost]

🕸️My thoughts and feelings on Beetlejuice 🪲 (at least for a while)

I know a lot of people probably won't care but I really want to share my thoughts and talk about this character and that's what I'm going to do, There are a lot of thoughts and feelings accumulated inside my head and I need to get them out, it's a little mess but I think it will be fun to read.

I've had this on my mind for a while, which has finally become one of my biggest, if not the biggest, hyperfocuses for now and I'm going to share a little bit of it now >:)

I really didn't think I would have the courage to post this because I'm not that confident in sharing my things but I CAN'T TAKE THIS GREEN DEMON GHOST MAN OFF MY MIND😫‼️

The beginning of this happened when I was already in another hyperfocus on the character Adam from the series Hazbin hotel on Amazon(I was already a fan since the pilot on YouTube), and then a slight curiosity hit me..."Who is his voice actor?"

So I went looking for who he was and I ended up being so interested in the actor, who is Alex Brightman (I love him a lot by the way and I can't wait to go see the musical and see him in person) and also in the characters he played and voiced, and in particular one of them won my heart.😔🩷

That's exactly what you're thinking, it was Beetlejuice.

For some reason he caught my attention and over time I ended up becoming quite fond of the character, even more so when I remembered that my parents watched the character's film when I was a child, which made me even more eager to research and look for any possible bit of information on the internet that I could find.

AND YES !

I actually achieved a lot and I'm going to share it <3

Firstly, the 1988 film, which was one of the first pieces of information I found about it, after all, it was in it that the character made his debut (apart from the story of its creator Tim Burton). And I know Beetlejuice is a pervert in this movie, but I try to ignore that and try to just look at the good side of him being a good character.

Secondly, and I think this is what caught my attention the most, is the cartoon of 1989 with the same name as the character called Beetlejuice where the character acted as the protagonist alongside Lidya (In this one there's nothing about him wanting to force her to marry him like in the movie, it's just a cartoon of them having a good friendship and being best friends).

And man, the way I was happy when found out that the cartoon had 4 seasons and about 68 episodes, I was almost like that kitten TikTok meme ✨ HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY ✨

Like, wow, a source of potential Gifs, icons, dividers, photos, edits, there was so much I could do that I didn't even know where to start because of all the hustle and bustle and animation I had (And of course I spent the next few weeks pestering my friends about it during class with every little bit of information I found🤓👆).

At the moment I'm trying to look for a website that has all the episodes together or just some, but so far I've only been able to find them on old DVDs. When I can find a website I will gather all the links and post them, so that more people can watch.

And one of the best parts...I FOUND A WHOLE COLLECTION OF 🩷VALENTINES' DAY CARDS🩷 and I'll probably make another post later to post all of them or at least their links, they're all official. This made me even more excited because I love all that romantic and cute aesthetic of the Valentine's Day season, hearts, red and pink decorations, heart-shaped candy boxes, love letters, Decorated store windows, stuffed animals, I just love everything (even though I don't have a valentine, and I don't want to🙃).

To give you an idea of how focused I was on this little green-haired corpse demon ghost man, everywhere I have the opportunity I make doodles or drawings of him all over the places, walls, notebooks, tests, napkins, classroom board, and in my sketchbook, in which I'm making an entire page dedicated just to him and Lidya, which maybe later I'll post too. Even more so after I managed to find several official reference sheets from the studio that designed and animated the cartoon, so now the drawings will be much better.💋

There is so much information that I managed to find that I am having to organize my thoughts because unfortunately I am very agitated and anything takes my focus easily, but as soon as I can really focus on that, it feels like I'm somewhere else.

But now talking about the Broadway musical, (which as said before has my beloved Alex Brightman as the main actor), I've always liked the idea of musicals, and even more so when his story is about my favorite character, and speaking of musicals, I REALLY WAS OBSESSED WITH THE SONG "SAY MY NAME" 😫🩷

And oh boy, I spend almost all day singing it or with it resonating in my mind, whenever I read, write, draw or do anything to do with Beetlejuice, I put on my headphones and listen this song as if it were the greatest masterpiece made in history.

AND I'M SORRY BUT I NEED TO SHARE THIS SONG WITH YOU GUYS

Leaving the character a little, and going to the actor...he is simply the SWEETEST AND CUTEST MAN I'VE EVER SEEN!!

After I discovered that he voiced the characters that I like most in the Hazbin Hotel fandom and played the character that I like so much, I developed a huge affection for him, not just for his work, but because he is so sweet, fun and funny that I can't help but love everything and everything I find about this man online.

Alex Brightman bringing the character Beetlejuice to life and voicing Adam, Fizzarolli and Sir Pentious

That's it for now ,folks, that's all I have stuck in my mind for now or at least what I can remember

I apologize if this isn't so good, I'm writing this while I'm at school at 7am after waking up at 5am while my body is sore after a presentation.

So, thank you for reading 💞

[littlereyofsunlight]

I'm late!

Sorry, @doctorhelena for the belated Steggy Secret Santa gift! I'm still working on the rest, but I've got the beginning polished up and ready to share ...

I loved receiving your letter to @steggyfanevents/Santa: "here are some general ideas of things I particularly like (applicable to either fanfic or fanart!): - stories (or fanart) set during the war - AUs with Steve present during the Agent Carter timeframe - AUs in general - friendship and found family - secret relationships, but also Peggy and Steve getting teased about each other - shared adventure, working together to achieve a goal - banter - Peggy being badass and Steve loving it - hijinks and terrible ideas - the Howling Commandos, Howard, Phillips, the Jarvises, Angie, Rose, Natasha, Bucky, Sam, Tony, Pepper, Thor - Bernard Stark, Howard's flamingo"

I had a lot of fun pulling a few of these elements together to come up with this story. Hope you enjoy!

Peggy bit the inside of her cheek as they arrived at Howard’s Beverly Hills home. He'd assured them of their privacy when he’d offered this house as a place to lay low while the news of Steve’s return blew over. It was their best option—she just hoped this really was the place to wait it out.

The driver handed over their bags to Steve, who took them with a warm smile, despite his obvious exhaustion. Peggy noted the way weariness seemed to have settled into the laugh lines at his eyes, the crease on his forehead that never quite went away now, the perpetual, if slight, downturn his mouth had. She shook herself from her reverie, reminding her wandering, maudlin thoughts that she’d never thought she’d get to see his face again, let alone watch him age. 

She rubbed at the simple band on her left ring finger. While Steve’s miraculous return had certainly caused a stir, it was the news of the wedding that had turned the press rabid.

Peggy looked at Steve. Steve looked at Peggy. There was, not for the first time since he’d returned, the feeling of uncomfortable tension between them. “Well,” Steve said, his voice congenial, “I’m fifty-percent convinced he’s not going to out us.”

Peggy nodded. “I might go as high as seventy-five percent, just knowing how well Howard pays.” 

“He sure is doing us some favor.” Peggy found his tone inscrutable. This was a new development, since his return. The small lines on his face and, sometimes, the wrong-footed feeling that Steve was referencing something from where—when—he came from.

She shifted her purse strap higher on her shoulder. The California sun was hot, and Steve’s suit hadn't fared well on the transcontinental flight. She didn’t feel particularly fresh, herself. “Shall we go in?”

He inclined his head. “I take it you know the way.”

Biting back the sharp retort that flew into her head—this wasn’t the same callow Steve who’d suggested fondue was some kind of lewd act, after all—Peggy was acutely aware of Steve behind her as she strode up the front walk to Howard’s ridiculous mansion. The lawn was just as green and well-manicured as when she’d last been, two years ago. Peggy supposed Howard thought stuccoed walls and wrought iron details made the place stately, but she’d always found it cozy, despite its size. And of course, the pool made it especially appealing. She looked back at Steve—at her new husband—and thought idly of just how secluded the pool really was. She felt a flush come over her that she couldn’t blame entirely on the heat.

“Howard played host when I was here working a case with …” She fumbled for words as she reached the front door and dug into her purse for the key Jarvis had arranged to have messengered to her back in D.C. “Ahem, well … there was a scientist, I’m not sure I’ve had the chance to tell you about this one.” 

Peggy’s mind raced. What exactly was she going to tell him in this moment about the escapade with Whitney Frost? Her flirtation with Jason Wilkes? Her dalliance with Daniel? Not exactly honeymoon talk. “Well, another time,” she finished inadequately, feeling suddenly quite tired. Opening the door, she stepped inside. The heat of the day hadn’t touched the cool tile entryway, and she sighed in relief. Peggy ushered Steve in after her and, with a final look back at the expanse of lawn and the eight-foot wall beyond it that encircled the property, she firmly shut the door and locked it.

“Alone at last,” she said, with a genuine smile for her new husband.

***

Steve took in the immaculate Spanish Colonial Revival details of Howard’s house. He’d visited Tony’s home in Malibu, once, before he rebuilt it. The setting had been spectacular, and the house had certainly gone out of its way to provide unobstructed views of the ocean, but all that glass and space had left it feeling empty. 

Now, Steve wondered if it had been a reaction to this place and to Howard’s preferred style. There was dark, ornate woodwork, plush, heavy furniture and warm colors everywhere Steve’s eye landed. Light spilled into the vestibule from arched windows stretching above the front door. The tiles were an inviting orange, with a Moroccan motif bordering the floor. A staircase of dark risers and wrought iron lead, Steve presumed, to the bedrooms on the second floor. Beyond the stairs was a hallway into the back of the house, and to the left of the foyer Steve saw a study filled with bookcases and leather club chairs. 

He suddenly became aware of Peggy’s eyes on him, her expression expectant. “Nice place,” he observed blandly. She raised an eyebrow, and he noticed, not for the first time today, how impeccably turned out she was. Her honeymoon suit crisply pressed, hat set just so, red, red lipstick looking freshly applied even with the transcontinental flight they’d boarded that morning. Steve knew his jacket was creased to hell and his collar had lost its starch—he was out of practice keeping his clothes up to this time’s standards, that was very clear. 

And, he realized through his musings, there was a frown beginning on his wife’s incredibly beautiful face.

Steve reached out a hand, pulled her in close. “Did you say something about being alone?”

He was relieved when she melted against him immediately, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. “One hears that’s how newlyweds are supposed to spend their time, alone together,” she teased, her eyes soft as she looked at him. He’d been flagging on the drive from the airport, looking forward to a nap when they arrived. But now he couldn’t resist kissing her, pressing her fully against him, reveling in how her lush curves fit against his body. 

“Good thing I cleared my schedule,” he murmured as they broke apart. She removed her hat and set it down on a table just to the side of the door. He let his hand roam down her shapely backside, knowing there were layers of nylon slip and girdle beneath the lightweight wool of her skirt. Maybe a nap could wait. Would she let him peel her out of each layer slowly this time? 

Peggy rewarded him with a laugh before she leaned up to kiss him again. “I have a few items to add to your itinerary, darling.”  

He wasn’t sure how long they spent, pressed against the door. Long enough for the shadows to change, lengthening over the stairs. Peggy’s stomach rumbled and Steve laughed. “Some things never change,” he said, a smirk on his face. 

“Do people in the future not require nourishment at regular intervals?” Peggy quipped, smoothing her skirt back down. “If I’m hungry, I know you’re famished,” she said.

Steve dragged her hem back up a few inches. “I could eat.”

Peggy arched an eyebrow at him, her hand around his wrist. “Focus, darling.”

“I would be very focused.” He saw how her eyes darkened and her breath came just a bit quicker. He brushed the tips of his fingers against her thigh, keeping his touch light. 

Her grip tightened and she exhaled. “Steve.”

He angled his head and let his lips graze the shell of her ear. “Peg.”

She sighed again, turning her head to kiss him firmly. “Lunch first.” She punctuated the imperative with a quick nip at his bottom lip. 

“Is that an order?” he teased, chasing her lips as she pulled away.

Her eyes sparked at him as she put both hands on his chest. “It is indeed, Captain.” She stepped back out of his arms. “But if you find us provisions, you have leave to resume your mission after your wife’s been satisfied.”

Heat spread through his chest at that word. His wife. He couldn’t keep the goofy smile from taking over his face, even as he sassed back at her, “I’ve been trying to satisfy my wife this whole time, Mrs. Rogers.”

Peggy laughed as she took up her small suitcase, shaking her head with a smile that echoed his. “I’ll go freshen up. The kitchen’s back through there, and I expect Ana Jarvis will have left plenty in the larder.” 

“Ma’am, yes ma’am.” He resisted the urge to pinch himself as he watched her walk up the stairs. All the ways he’d struggled with the decision to find her, after everything that had happened to him—he’d nearly talked himself out of even trying to have this a dozen times. But somehow, Steve was here, with Peggy, and everything felt so right. 

Even if they were technically on the run from the press.

Steve ventured to the back of the house, where the well-appointed kitchen was indeed stocked with food. Steve couldn’t remember if he’d ever learned when frozen french fries had been invented, but apparently it was before 1949. There was a box of those plus a few cans of Minute Maid concentrate in the freezer, along with a wealth of tupperware, all labeled in neat Palmer script with the contents and instructions for thawing and reheating. Steve whistled at the display and selected a stew to thaw for dinner later that evening. 

There was a note taped to the fridge, and Steve scanned it quickly.

Peggy, my dear—

I’m desolate that I cannot offer you my heartfelt congratulations in person, and that my inspection of your illustrious gentleman will have to wait until Edwin and I return from our visit. Please help yourself to anything; I have arranged for more groceries to be delivered on Tuesday. 

E says I must warn you that Bernard is suffering from some tropical malaise. But as sardines seem to cheer him up, I admit to being skeptical of my husband’s theory.

Affectionately yours,

Ana

Steve couldn’t remember who Bernard was supposed to be. But Howard had assured them both that his staff would give them their privacy while they stayed at his home, so Steve assumed the fellow would have to get his sardines elsewhere. 

In the fridge, Steve found basic sandwich supplies. For his part, he was still a tiny bit sad that sriracha wasn’t yet a staple in American cupboards. Thinking of sriracha made him think of being on the run with Sam and Nat. Instead of shoving the memory aside, he let it wash over him. Two years of running that grief group had been good for many things, of course. But certainly, an unintended benefit was how it had prepared him to leave it all behind and return to Peggy. 

Steve took the stairs two at a time, balancing the sandwiches, two glasses of water and a package of Oreos in his hands. He found Peggy down the wide hall, in a spacious bedroom with a private attached bathroom and a Juliet balcony overlooking Howard’s tree-filled side yard. She was still occupied in the bathroom, so Steve set down the food on one of the nightstands and pulled the inner lace curtains closed over the inset windows in the balcony doors, leaving the heavy velvet drapes open. The diffuse afternoon light that filtered through turned the room a cozy orange. By the time Peggy was done, he’d unpacked their suitcases into the closet and dresser provided, and stowed the bags underneath the giant four-poster bed. 

She’d changed out of her suit entirely and had on her robe, her hair unpinned and falling softly to her shoulders in mahogany waves. “Sandwiches!” she said, and clambered up onto the bed beside him. 

“Oreos, too,” he pointed out, delighted at her excitement over his extremely basic offering. “You were right about Mrs. Jarvis keeping the kitchen stocked. Which reminds me,” he fished the note out of his trousers pocket, “she left this for you.”

***

Peggy read the note quickly, mouth full of roast beef, and then tucked it under the water on the nightstand. Ana must have dictated it, as it wasn’t in her handwriting and she and Jarvis were on a trip to Europe, visiting cousins of Ana’s who had settled in the Netherlands after the war. 

Steve had eaten a sandwich of his own, as well as several chocolate biscuits, and then he’d gotten up to hang his own suit and change into pajama pants as Peggy finished her own meal. Though it was three hours later by her internal clock, Peggy felt a bit of a thrill to be in her nightclothes in the daylight. She watched as the muscles beneath his white undershirt flexed with his movements, his physique somehow even more impressive now than when he’d first gone through the transformation of Project Rebirth. Peggy was grateful for all that had transpired to bring Steve back to her. She was grateful that the man he was now was with her in this time. She felt suddenly such a swell of overpowering love for him, she was happy to be sitting down as it hit. “Steve,” she managed, hearing the emotion thick in her voice.

He turned back to her, concern clear on his face. “Peg?”

She shook her head, smiling through the rush of feeling. She aimed for sultry when she spoke and tossed her hair behind her shoulders. “You have leave to resume your mission at your leisure.” She toyed with the tie on her robe. 

Immediately, his eyes darkened and the concerned dip of his brows smoothed over. A hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth. “Is that so?” Peggy nodded, unknotting her robe so she could let the neckline fall open. As Steve realized she had nothing on underneath, she watched his breath deepen and his hands clench at the suit he still held. “Remind me where we were?” he teased.

Peggy licked her lips eagerly. “I seem to recall you promised satisfaction.”

Steve tossed the suit behind him, ensuring it would truly need a thorough pressing before he could wear it again. He prowled back towards the bed. “Did you have anything particular in mind?—”

Before Steve had even finished the question, there was a loud crash on the balcony, accompanied by a sound Peggy could only describe as a goose attacking a chalkboard. Steve immediately closed the distance between them, pulling Peggy off the bed and positioning her behind him. The sound came again, this time accompanied by some shuffling and … flapping? 

Peggy slapped a hand to her forehead. “Bernard!”

[puzzlebean]

Inevitabilities [Lestappen]

Charles watches the Real Racers Never Quit stream and hears that one of Max’s achievements is padel wins against him and George. He calls Max afterwards.

Also on AO3

Charles wasn't supposed to watch the stream. He had a busy day and he was meant to rest, catch up on emails, those kind of things. But, well, it is Max and he misses seeing Max. So he turns the stream on and vaguely listens to it as he heats up some leftover pasta. He almost misses Max’s introduction. But then he hears it. Just a little line, easy to forget, except Charles won't. One of Max's achievements is multiple wins in padel against George and Charles. Charles can't believe everyone knows he's lost to Max now! Charles was more than happy to let everyone believe that his padel win against Max was their only game because, well, he won. He likes winning. He likes competing against Max. He and Max get so intense about it that George doesn't even want to come anymore.

Charles still can't believe Max told everyone or at least told a member of his team who just told the entire world. He's going to have words about this with Max later. He'll just have to keep watching the stream so he knows when Max is finished. Then Charles will call him and demand a rematch.

Max doesn’t have as much luck as Charles hoped he would in the race. But he looks so cute afterwards. Not that Charles will admit to that if anyone asked. No. Never. Especially as long as Max is the padel champion between them. Max is his rival. That's definitely all there is to their relationship. Obviously. Charles definitely doesn't think about how beautiful and sweet Max is about twenty times a day. No, not at all. And he definitely doesn't dream about kissing Max. Nope. Just rivals.

Charles calls Max as soon as his interview ends. Max immediately picks up because they are rivals of course.

“Hi Charlie,” Max says.

Charles’ heart only beats a little faster.

“Hi Max,” Charles says. He waits a second. “I stumbled across your stream… So multiple padel wins against George and me?”

“It's true isn't it,” a clearly amused Max says, “It was 4 wins for me and 1 for you before we went on winter holiday, wasn't it?”

“Yes,” Charles admits. “But I will beat you the next time obviously.”

“Of course,” Max says. “And when will the next time be? I've missed spending time with you. We could do padel and then lunch?”

They had only done just padel games before but lunch with Max sounds perfect.

“I'm in Monaco this weekend,” Charles says, “Let's do Saturday, at 10?”

“Looking forward to it,” Max says.

“And just so you know… I missed you too,” Charles says.

“Glad it's not just me,” Max says softly.

Maybe, just maybe, Charles does have a crush on Max. Maybe, just maybe, Max has a crush on Charles as well. Maybe Charles just needs to find out where they stand.

“Padel and a nice lunch… Can it be a date?” he asks.

“I'd like that,” Max says, “Always hoped that's where we were headed.”

Charles is glad no one can see how badly he is blushing right now.

“Me too,” he realizes out loud. “I guess it was inevitable.”

From karting to Formula 1 to padel dates and phone calls. They have always been inevitable. Charles has been silly to pretend otherwise. It was always going to be him and Max. He can't be mad about it, really. Unless he never wins another padel game from Max. That might just be a little bit annoying. Though, Charles thinks, Max is cute enough to get away with it.

[qat-fort]

The Tale Of Brainpulp, the Defender and Madman of Stinkfinger

So, I've been working on a volcano fort called Stinkfinger, and a dwarf named Sazir has been the most interesting dwarf there with 0 doubt in my mind. I don't have any images of when he originally migrated to Stinkfinger, but here's what he looks like now:

He migrated to Stinkfinger in the year 102, where he was immediately drafted into the army, which at the time was only 3 dwarves. He excelled at this, and before he even became a Expert Macedwarf, he managed to single handedly stop a goblin attack, almost entirely by himself.

I decided that he deserved to become leader of the militia after this. Granted, it was a very small raid (only 4 or 5 goblins), but considering that my other 2 mace dwarves didn't even contribute in the battle, I figured it was a fair promotion. He served me well as Stinkfinger grew, until a goblin raid in the year 103 had resulted in him having motor and sensory nerve damage so severe he could no longer walk, not even with a crutch. I didn't want to take him off the now royal guard because he was technically one of my most knowledgeable dwarves, so I had to settle with demoting him. He couldn't walk and had to crawl around on the ground, but he could at least pass on what he knew about the art of the mace to new recruits. Understandably, this major injury was upsetting to him.

Despite this, he still worked and trained hard, and actually became a Grandmaster Macedwarf, which was his dream! (sort of)

After he achieved his dream, he became sort of lost and didn't know what he wanted to do with his life. This plus the already large mental toll of his injuries, and the trauma that came with those injuries, overwhelmed him, and he started to show signs of madness by the year 107. He'd crawl around the halls, babbling nonsense. At this point I knew I had to do something, so I I checked his needs and his top need was that he wanted to make something. So I decided that I'd make a room just for him to make some rock crafts as a pass time. It seemed to of worked, somewhat, and after getting a few more Grandmaster mace dwarves, i figured it was for the best for him to retire. I ordered him to return his gear in the and to live a life of making rock figures so he could artistically work through his trauma.

Sazir thought this was a stupid idea, and expressed this by throwing a tantrum and giving a bard a DIY LOBOTOMY WITH HIS FUCKING FIST.

Despite committing this crime in broad daylight, no civilians reported this crime to the royal guard. Why? I have no clue. If I had to guess they didn't want Sazir to come for them next for snitching. I was upset by this, but since nobody reported him, I couldn't have him convicted. I could of done some cheesing to get him unofficially jailed, but I wanted to see how this would play out. I donned the nickname of "Brainpulp" to Sazir. Now a season or so later, Brainpulp did strike again, killing the exact same way he had before. This time however, someone reported it. Just as I was about to have him arrested however:

The largest goblin siege we've ever had came upon us. After deliberating, I decided it was fate that they had arrived when they did. Sazir could die doing the same thing that had made him so important; defending Stinkfinger. The goblins wanted to have parley, so they didn't mind waiting for Sazir to crawl around the fort to gather up his old equipment. I stationed him across from the goblin horde, alone. He would go down in a blaze of glory, gore, and goblins.

I thought that would be the end for Sazir Brainpulp, but he did the last thing i expected.

He ran.

He had literally nothing left to live for.

He had achieved his dreams, watched Stinkfinger grow from being a hole in the ground to the capital of our dwarven civilization, and had trained a fine royal guard. I figured the reason he had become so angry and hateful was because he was succumbing to the madness of having no real purpose anymore. I thought he knew that his stone crafts were simply a thing i told him to do as a way to distract him from that fact. I thought he was killing people because he was tricking himself into believing those dwarves were a threat to our home, much like the original siege goblins he had fought years prior to now. So I decided to give him one last final purpose and that was to sacrifice himself for the glory of our fortress.

I thought this was what he wanted.

I was wrong.

He crawled all the way back up the mountain to the entrance to Stinkfinger, and despite having clear orders to attack those goblins, he crawled deep into the fort, as far away as he could from the goblins marching upon us.

Fortunately, with our trained royal guard of macedwarves, we made quick work of this attack, despite it being the largest yet. When the last goblin had fallen, I checked to see where Sazir was, and he was sleeping in his room. Hiding from a honorable death.

He didn't want to retire and live out his days making stone crafts, and he didn't want to sacrifice himself in battle for our fort. So I'm not sure what he wanted. But whatever it was I couldn't provide it to him. The only thing I provided was a conviction. I convicted him for the murder of the dwarf he had killed earlier, and i ALSO convicted him of a artifact that someone else had stolen. There was no way we would ever catch the person who had done that particular crime, it was a cold case, so I figured that would be a substitute for the crime that is his cowardice.

So now lets fast forward to now, year 108. Brainpulp, now known as the local mad man, is still in his cell. You can usually hear him babbling if you happen to walk past near the doorway to the dungeon. At some point, in a fit of rage, he ripped all his clothes off and is now completely naked. His days are a cycle of insanity, brief gratuity when the poor carpenter Zuglar comes to gives him some water, then spiraling back into insanity.

Aside from Zuglar the only person he even remembers anymore is Rakust, one of his old students. Even that memory is hazy though, Sazir doesn't even remember what he looks like. The only other person Sazir claims to know aside from those two dwarves is god.

The once proud macedwarf is a hollow shell of what he once was, deteriorating after after being in confinement for so long. His prior injuries have become infected, no doubt after the poor bastard tore out his stiches.

His voice is raspy and hoarse after screaming about repentance for days on end, and his eyes have sunken into their sockets after months of guilt.

Despite his crimes and cowardice, I was starting to feel remorse for Sazir. Sazir as this fellow dwarves knew him had died in that cell ages ago, leaving behind something that could only be described as feral. I decided to see when his sentence was up, surely it would be soon, right? It had almost been a year, a i've never seen dwarve be jailed much longer than a year even for the harshest of crimes.

I checked his convition sheet and was stunned to see this:

Legally, he should of been let out ages ago most likely. Nobody has done it though. I guess the dwarves of Stinkfinger have come to fear Brainpulp, and have decided that he wouldn't be safe to release. I can't say I disagree with that.

Normally this is where his story ends, however when I built my dungeon, I built it in a very special way. I built it above a pool of magma, with levers hooked up to the grates outside of the cells. If for some reason i desired, I could pull the lever to a specific cell and have the convict in that cell killed instantly in the burning magma.

I could put him out of his misery. I'm not sure if I will yet, because theres the chance that, someday, one of my dwarves will free him, and he can leave Stinkfinger and try to find purpose for his broken life. If something important happens to Sazir, I'll be sure to let you guys know.

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed this little mini story from my fort. If this proves to be popular I may do more of these.

[frikatilhi]

*quietly plants brainrot here*

(no pressure ofc pus)

OK YOU NOW LISTEN

What makes you think you can just BARGE in here and drop THAT in my askes WHAT

please continue

Anyway, under the cut is the last of the prompts for now (feel free to send more though, I've loved these!!).

“Is that what you’re gonna wear?” Jesse asked.

Bojan looked down at his Pasivision jersey. “Yeah, why?”

Jesse’s eyebrows were up. “Not exactly club attire.”

“I’ll change after the show,” Bojan shrugged, going for the dumb and innocent approach. Jesse shot him a knowing look. 

Bojan wasn’t sure what the big deal was - it was meant to be funny. He had come to Glasgow to support his friend, so he was ready to go all in. He had tucked his Pasivision jersey in his luggage in hopes he’d have the courage to wear it, and when it was time to go to the venue, he had pulled it over his sparkly top meant for partying later. 

Jesse was still saying something, but suddenly Jere came into view, in performance mode, ready to take the stage, and Bojan wasn’t listening anymore, because he had also noticed Bojan and was coming over.

“Hey there superstar, ready to blow the roof off?” Bojan said, offering his fist for a bump.

Jere tapped his knuckles into Bojan’s. “Look at you, fanboy.”

Bojan patted his belly. “Oh, this? My turn being the tour wife, I guess. You did so well, last time.”

Jere grinned. “Yes. You serve me drinks, after show.” 

“Sure thing, hunnybunny.”

“Okei, gotta go. See you!” And he was gone. Bojan let out a sigh of relief, not sure why. Next to him, Jesse rolled his eyes.

****

It was more than halfway through the show, and Bojan was watching from the balcony. Jere had exited the stage for a minute, letting the others take over for what Bojan assumed was a change of outfit, sip of water and a much needed breather. A new song started - Bojan wasn’t that well-versed in Käärijä’s discography that he would have been able to differentiate between the songs easily - and Jere came back on stage and.

And.

He was wearing - a shirt? That itself was unheard of, Käärijä did not perform in a shirt, ever, but on top of that, it was… something white.

Not just anything white, either. It was Bojan’s mesh shirt, the one he had worn at Tavastia, the one that he had left at Jere’s, the one that Jere had proudly waved and smelled in front of the entire internet, the one that had made the freaking news.

He hadn’t left it on purpose, mind you. He wasn’t even sure how that had happened, because it’s not like he was wearing it when they had crashed at Jere’s. Somehow, Jere must have stolen it from his bag, that bastard.

The boxers, on the other hand, he totally owned up to. He had taken a shower at Jere’s in the morning. He was not good at keeping tabs of his belongings, so it’s no wonder those had been left behind. 

But that wasn’t on purpose, either. Or so he told himself.

He wasn’t super excited about Jere’s public stunt with the laundry, but at the time there wasn’t anything else to do than to take it in stride, share the story, and dm a bunch of skull emojis to Jere. This was their love language, was it not? Bojan was glad he had retaliated by sneaking the Bulbasaur beanie in his bag when Jere wasn’t looking, even though he couldn’t have known at the time it was to be revenge. He felt no need to flaunt his achievement for everyone to see, though. He hadn’t told or showed it to anyone, actually. He told himself he was waiting for the right moment to strike.

Jere was thrashing about the stage and the shirt - Bojan’s shirt - kept riding up and exposing his belly. Which shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, because Jere’s belly was always on display. Why did seeing it under - and through - a shirt suddenly made Bojan’s want to bite?

The same went for Jere’s nipples that were barely visible through the mesh. God, is that what he looked like, as well, wearing that? That shit should be illegal. Suddenly, the jersey felt too fucking hot on him, he could feel sweat pooling under his pecs and on his lower back. The song ended, and Bojan couldn’t be sure how the rest of the show went. All he could feel was… some kind of unfounded ownership, like he had staked his claim without even trying, like now everybody was able to see right through him, like now everybody knew.

Afterwards, backstage, they had a laugh about the whole thing. Mikke took pictures of them, Bojan showing the victory sign in his jersey, Jere tucked under his arm in the white shirt. Both of them were sporting wide grins. Jere enjoyed the frenzy it caused when he posted it; Bojan was not so sure about how he felt. He shared it adding a single heart - he didn’t even dare to try to put anything into words. It took enough effort to keep acting like his insides weren’t on fire.

They didn’t talk about it much, then or later. Jere said he had brought the shirt because he wanted to return it. Neither of them mentioned that it never actually made it back to Bojan. Instead, another pair of boxers was accidentally left behind, this time by Jere, who had to scramble to make it back to the tour bus after extended goodbyes in Bojan’s hotel room. Bojan didn’t feel the need to roast him publicly about it. Privately though, back in his apartment in Ljubljana, he made sure to send Jere a picture of himself wearing them, fresh from the clean laundry pile. And the reaction he got back - meant for him and him alone - was enough to sustain him for a good long while.

[blackjackkent]

All right, we have been hearing about Sharess's Caress since Act 1, we've guessed it was a brothel that whole time. It's time to watch Hector be the awkward nerd that he is and desperately try to achieve plot objectives in this situation.

Karlach is absolutely grinning before they even go in the door and preparing an imaginary bowl of popcorn.

Our actual goal here is to find Voss, which probably means I should bring Lae'zel, but we'll take a look around first.

The lady at the front desk perks up at seeing a new visitor:

"A weary traveler, battered and bruised," she croons pleasantly, looking him over. "You come for sustenance - no, *decadence*." She taps a finger to her chin thoughtfully. "A mien cool as ice, yet eyes burning hot. Oh, yes, I know your bliss..."

She straightens, her smile growing to a lascivious smirk. "A sturdy dwarf. A leather whip. She gives. You receive." She pouts her lips out and bats her eyelashes at him. "Or have I misjudged you?"

Hector stares at her; his eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and he flushes dark crimson. Behind him, Karlach staggers away in a fit of laughter to go lean against the wall behind him. Shadowheart has both hands pressed to her mouth and is making a sort of strangled snorting noise. Jaheira is grinning openly at Hector's discomfiture, enjoying the show tremendously.

(A/N: Bahahahahahahahaha. A) Were Karlach absent, I am not entirely sure this woman is wrong. Like many of my male OCs, Hector is not, I think, particularly dominant in this sphere despite being a badass in other regards. B) Does this appraisal change depending on the character you're playing? Because "a mien cool as ice, yet eyes burning hot" is actually a pretty accurate read on how I've been trying to play Hector specifically and it would be really cool if the game discerned that dynamically.)

"Can we not talk about this?" Hector squeaks awkwardly, sending Karlach into another fit of giggles.

She clicks her tongue playfully. "Sweeting, are you blushing?" she says teasingly. "There's no shame in pleasure. Even less when the pleasure is pain." She waves a hand. "It's Ffion you seek - our 'Stern Librarian.' She isn't here today, alas. Your penance must wait."

(A/N: Oh my god. I don't know if this is dynamic based on Hector's Sage background or something about how I've played him up to this point, but if it isn't, the game got an amazing read on Hector entirely by accident, and either way it is KILLING me.)

"Well," the woman says casually, "we've other ways to fill your void. A drink, for one. A pair of drow, for another. Choose your sin."

Hilariously, these are the only available response options:

So... Hector stares at her for another moment and then forgoes his usual politeness and just turns around and walks away. 😂

[destinysbounty]

HELLO i am in your inbox because your post about ninjago cycles made me drop my phone, ive literally been thinking about this idea forever!

around when i watched s8, i literally started reading the entire show as one big time loop because of all the repetition and cycles in the show. i dont know if that phrasing holds true, but i think the idea itself holds up

i think what really drives the entire cycle of the show is the need for balance. i interpret ninjago the place as created by fsm to be a reflection of his worldviews: dragon vs oni; good vs evil; light vs dark. the fact that the overlord keeps coming back, and his descendants will have to keep fighting him is a part of a larger system put in place (accidentally or purposefully) by fsm. when one person is defeated, a power vaccuum appears that HAS to be filled, usually by a new villain

basically, balance is the mechanism by which all these cycles come to pass. its kind of a law of physics in ninjago, good will always win, but evil can never really lose. everyone has to keep repeating history, personal and global because the world literally will bend itself in order to achieve that balance.

(i hope this makes sense i wrote it very quickly lmao) thank you sooooo much for bringing up cycle symbolism in the show,,,, once you start looking for it its everywhere!

(Here's the cycle post in reference)

Thank you for sending this ask! I apologize for the belated response, but I wanted to wait to respond until I had the chance to get ahold of some screenshots that would be relevant to this discussion. With that out of the way, let's get into the meat of the issue!

First off, you are absolutely right! I think the circle motif represents a few key themes: balance, as you mentioned; recursion; and inheritance. And all of those things, in a way, tie back into the show's interpretation of destiny and the way fate is baked into almost every aspect of the story.

Balance is the most obvious interpretation, of course, and perhaps the most compelling. Like, not just because the circle is by design an incredibly balanced shape, simultaneously having infinite sides yet at the same time only one. But also because there are so many instances of circles appearing in the way in which the balance between light and dark is visually represented within the series - especially with regard to the creation mythology.

(On an unrelated note, I think it's actually kind of a cool detail how the FSM is represented as a grey being - not Oni of darkness, not dragon of light, but something in between. The child of both worlds.)

The world was created by the FSM, and while I can't remember if it was ever outright stated, I think there's enough evidence to at least assume spinjitzu was used alongside the Golden Weapons to create Ninjago (I'm happy to elaborate on this if asked!)

On this note of balance, I also think it's worth noting the attention drawn to the splitting of circles. As seen above, with the creation of the Dark Island, but also with the Battle Between Brothers! Now, I'm definitely overthinking this, but bear with me for a sec.

The Monastery of Spinjitzu is, quite iconically, arguably circular in shape. Well, it's really more of a hexagon, but you get my drift. And the sons of the FSM, each representing light and dark, were friends for a long time. But when Garmadon finally succumbed to the venom's influence and was banished to the Underworld, a crevice was torn into the ground, splitting that circle - and likewise splitting the two brothers in the process.

And again! The Lloyd v Garmadon fight in sesaon 8! Despite loving each other very deeply, they have both been forced into conflict by the forces of destiny time and again. Lloyd knows the drill at this point. "I've saved you once, I'll save you again." The fight itself takes place in a circular structure - the Kryptarium Prison panopticon. Lloyd enters this fight assuming the established cycle of fighting and redeeming his father will be reinforced. But when Lloyd is thrown through the wall, thereby breaking through the prison's circular structure, so too is this cycle broken as well (and with it like half the bones in Lloyd's body as well as his heart).

And of course, we can't forget the most iconic example - when the FSM created the Dark Island, banishing the Overlord and his Stone Army for the protection of the world he created, the circular continent was split in two. The destruction of the circle.

The destruction of the circle is also how the Oni are introduced in Mystake's story - the dragon creates a circle, and the Oni destroys it.

So to recap: a circle is balance, balance is stability and unity, and the dissolution of the circle is the loss of stability.

That in itself is a cycle - creating something, destroying it, creating it again.

Kinda like the show itself, in a constant loop of the world facing ruin and building itself back up again and again. Like how the Overlord can never truly be defeated, dying and coming back like the ebb and flow of the tide. Like the snake eating its own tail, a cycle feeding itself endlessly. Like how a circle has infinite sides.

That's interesting enough as it is, right? Just wait! It goes deeper!

As mentioned before, the FSM arguably created Ninjago to some extent using spinjitzu. Spinjitzu, which is both a martial art and a lifestyle that utilizes circular motion to create a tornado around the user. The quintessential example of the circle motif. Spinjitzu is quite literally the foundation of the show's identity and worldbuilding. This show is, on both a narrative and a meta level, built on the concept of circles. And according to the Core shorts, one of its principle values includes balance.

Which, in the end, boils back to what you were saying about how cycles are a law of reality in Ninjago. I agree!

If I have my lore right and Ninjago was created through spinjitzu in some degree or another, then that means it was created through circular motion. The world was made spinning. The world was made as one big cycle. So to some extent, I do definitely think that good and evil must constantly fight. If the world isn't constantly repeating itself, if this cycle of recursion ever stops, then the world will stop spinning. And what happens when the world stops spinning?

Chaos, as I'm sure you can imagine.

Although, we also have to consider that the Overlord said "there will be peace in the dark". Now, since he is a villain and also the embodiment of darkness itself we should take his words with a grain of salt, but it definitely raises the question of what it would look like if darkness or light truly did prevail over the other, or if such a thing is even possible in the first place. Will there be peace in the dark? Or does the Overlord have an arguably more compelling motivation - that is, as an immortal being incapable of death, locked in an eternal limbo between victory and defeat, he knows that the only way this deathless hell will end is if the balance is destroyed and the universe falls to pieces. Maybe that's what the Overlord means by 'peace in the dark'. That theory has a lot of holes in it, of course, but I'm certainly intrigued by what that would mean for the Overlord's character. This might also hint at the origins of Darkley's, but that's a weird little tinfoil-hat tangent that we're not gonna worry about right now.

Now, I mentioned earlier that there are three main themes that the circle motif draws on: balance, recursion, and inheritance. And those three themes all tie into destiny somehow. So far, we've talked about balance and recursion - how history must keep repeating itself, how the whole world must remain in eternal conflict between light and dark or else the circle will dissolve and chaos will reign. But what about inheritance?

This is the fun part, but also a bit obvious. First, inheritance comes through elemental powers - not only because powers are passed on from person to person, as well as the legacies of those powers, but also because the elements of creation all tie back to the Green Ninja. They all manifest in him, and while the other ninja are capable of wielding those powers independently they all tie back to Lloyd in the end. Like convection cells but instead of circulating wind currents it's magical powers.

And, of course, I'm not the first person to comment on how elemental powers can be seen as a metaphor for generational trauma, and how each character inherits the legacy and loss of prior generations vicariously through their powers. Other people have elaborated on this idea far more eloquently than I ever could. But it's still worth mentioning in this discussion, so here we are.

And!! Then you've got things like the Yin-Yang Eclipse (which, imo, didn't look much like the Yin-Yang symbol at all. It looked more like a funky Z if you ask me). With Yang telling Cole to "close the circle" - the curse of the Airjitzu Temple requires that someone always remain behind as the master of the house. Yang needed Cole to take his place as the temple's new prisoner. He needed Cole to complete the cycle of inheritance. He needed Cole to close the circle.

And that right there is the base essence of this show, isn't it? Closing the circle. Completing the cycle. The sins of the father laid upon the son. History repeating itself. Repetition and recursion.

This all pertains to destiny in ways I hope are quite apparent at this point. The scholars in the Cloud Kingdom write destiny. They choose what happens. They designed the Prophecy of the Green Ninja. Perhaps they're doing all this, perhaps they're putting the ninja through all this trauma and suffering, perhaps they're creating this history and this world to be endlessly recursive, in an effort to maintain the balance and protect the universe from spiraling out of control. Or maybe they're just doing it to get their sick kicks. Who knows? We've only seen the Cloud Kingdom for like one whole episode so at this point who's to say.

But a bit more blatantly to the point, according to Lloyd in 2.12 "Return of the Overlord" the below images show the symbol for destiny. And what do you see??? Circles!!!!!!!! Circles as unity! Circles as balance! And in the latter image, circles represented through colors, which denote their roles in destiny and likewise the powers they inherited from their ancestors! It's circles all the way down!!!!

Oh and before I go, here's some food for thought. The Overlord once said that "destruction comes from the eternal struggle between light and dark." And Oni have the power of destruction. Garmadon, once he's reached his true potential, is powered by conflict. "It's the fight that fuels him." Which does seem to corroborate with what we know about the Overlord himself - as Misako said, "where there is light, there must also be darkness." Conflict creates darkness, and darkness creates conflict, just as light creates shadow.

God, I'm losing my mind over this. Balance is the struggle between light and dark. Destruction is a byproduct of this struggle. Destruction causes darkness. Darkness plays a pivotal role in the existence of the balance. The balance is creating itself. The cycle ultimately cycles back in on its own self. We've come full circle. It's the freakin' ouroboros! The snake eating its own tail! Endless consumption with infinite return! Circular motion causing its own endless perpetuity!! It's a fight you can never truly win but also can't lose, because the existence of conflict creates conflict, and without conflict there cannot be peace! You cannot escape from the cycle because you are the cycle!

So, to conclude:

Thanks again for the ask! <3 God I sure hope this rant made at least a teensy bit of sense.

[zehecatl]

2024 media thread part JANUARY :D

1st January: Super Mario Bros. Movie

finally got around to watching this, and okay, yeah- it was a lot better than i expected. a good time! really fun to watch! it definitely felt like actual fans worked on it, or at the very least, that Nintendo kept a real close eye during production. loooved the little nods to canon; when Pauline showed up, i literally paused to excitedly tell my mom about who that was, haha. also LOVED the difference uses of power ups!! tanuki suit AND cat suit my beloved :]

Bowser was definitely the high point, like!! that IS my little guy!! Jack Black did SUCH a good job, and man. the ANIMATION. the bits where he got all snarly was SO good. would have loved to watch those on the big screen. Luigi was also very Luigi, which i always appreciate. Mario was... eh? not bad! Chris Pine did an okay job, and while i would have preferred something more, it was... fine. and Donkey Kong was a whole lot of fun, actually? tempted to check out his games, because i did really like him

meanwhile, my BIG BIG complaint, is Peach. like, holy fuck. they absolutely butchered my girl! like, yes- as characters, none of them have a lot of personality to work with, but they're archetypes. you're supposed to push within the archetypes- they even did this with Mario. but they just- they completely abandoned who Peach is, as a character. straight up just wrote Daisy instead, which is. really frustrating! and i dislike it A LOT, because there is so much you can do with Peach as a character, and they didn't even try

but otherwise- fun movie! could have been so much worse!

4th January: Outpath

really relaxing and chill game, where you basically just run around collecting resources, upgrading stuff, and unlocking more island. definitely one of those 'put on some music and zone out for a bit' games. that is not a negative

really liked the graphics, and it was fun to just- run around? you get more movement upgrades as you go along, and it actually plays really nicely. also some tasty environmental sounds

i'm not a 100% done with it yet, but i hit the end credits, so. not sure i'll get all the achievements, but i do intent to go back and clean up some loose ends. also really like how it incorporates some idle elements, like you still getting credits(/money) while being offline. makes it more rewarding to open it up and vibe for a bit

i do think there was an.. attempt? at some kind of story, but i entirely missed it, so i guess that's my only real critic. it was just a fun chill game to sink like, 25 hours into lol

9th January: Momodora: Reverie Under The Moonlight

i've had this game in my library for literally who knows how long, and it's one i've always been aware of, since it was really big back in the day, and oh my god. oh my god, why did i not play this sooner?

it's rather short, took me around 7 hours, but it just- it nails what it wants to be, this tough little game with so much moodiness and tragedy, and i'm so enamoured. i tried playing the original one before this, but it wasn't quite hitting, but man. this one just. it hit so fucking good

there's so many layers here, so many unspoken little details. so so much tragedy you could really dig your fingers into, and as a Tragedy Enjoyer, ooooh it hits good

i'm considering either replaying it myself, or watching a LP and then writing some fic, because there is a little thing hiding here, something i want to put words to. it's good, can't wait to check out the rest, and the upcoming sequel/finale. also, the game is gorgeous

18th January: Switch OVA

so Switch is a two episode long 'adaptation' of a manga, and while it very much just drops you into the middle of the plot, it- works? like, i personally wasn't missing anything, and the case they chose to adapt works really well as a teaser for the manga, because i did leave it considering checking out the manga, and while the whole thing isn't anything to write home about, i did enjoy myself

(i also watched the whole thing on my phone, curled up in bed, so that did maybe increase my enjoyment. it was cozy! what can i say!)

funnily enough, i did walk into this thinking it was a yaoi, and while i don't think it is, there really was nothing to disprove me of this assumption. there's literally a moment where protag guy gets told 'he likes' the other protag guy, and he bLUSHES. LIKE. STRAIGHT OUT OF A YAOI FR FR

all in all, it was honestly just a really cozy time. it wasn't long enough to lose my interest, and there was enough in it to keep it- and i really like the design of the red haired guy! very simple, but really appealing too. i genuinely might check out the manga, my interest is definitely piqued

[aadmelioraa]

PLEASE tell me the context of the line, "If this fails and there is no escape for you, please tell me you'll find a man you trust to kill you softly." that is THE most intense line of dialogue i've ever ready holy shit i need to watch this show??

AHHHHHHHHH Beth it is literally SO intense, like…ok, so…Uhtred, the main character and guy who says that line, is at this point in a relationship with Aethelflaed, the woman in the gifset. I very decidedly do not ship them together, I resent how often her character is sidelined to prop him up, among other things…the historical Aethelflaed is an incredibly impressive figure, but a lot of her achievements are given to the fictional Uhtred in the show…I will stop there, just…I really really do not ship them for a variety of reasons and that is a big one lol.

I do, however, ship Aethelflaed with the bowlcut dude, aka Aldhelm, our favorite morally flexible Mercian who at this point is ride-or-die for Aethelflaed. Their storyline makes me feral, which you know at this point given my unhinged posts. But like…Aldhelm is canonically in love with her and has been for a while (he confesses it during the s3 finale while bleeding out in Aethelflaed's room, having been stabbed by her abusive and nefarious husband for siding with Aethelflaed's leadership tactics over his, after he'd spent many years being loyal to the husband, scheming on his behalf, etc).

It's a GREAT scene, his s3 arc is just him slowly shifting to her side entirely and it is so FUN, the actor (James Northcote) is excellent and provides so much depth to what, in s2, had been a fairly straightforward characterization (though still very fun, I loved him in s2 also). Anyway, Aethelflaed never reciprocates Aldhelm's affections (which I personally think is a great writing choice) BUT they are like…functionally a team, very much operating as partners, he is supportive of her and she can rely on him fully in her function as a leader but also in a personal capacity. 

So the thing with that find a man to kill you softly moment: they're about to fight in a huge battle with the odds stacked against them and there is a risk that Aethelflaed, as Lady of Mercia, might be taken as a political prisoner and be tortured, used as collateral, etc. Uhtred, her love interest, tells her to be sure she won't be taken alive, and then Aethelflaed reveals SHE ALREADY PICKED SOMEONE TO KILL HER SOFTLY and that THAT MAN IS ALDHELM because OF COURSE IT IS!! BUT THE ACTUAL THING IS when it comes down to it…ALDHELM CAN'T KILL HER. HE HAS A KNIFE TO HER THROAT AND THEY'RE SURROUNDED AND SHE'S LOST HER SWORD AND HE'S WAITING TIL THE LAST SECOND but HE CAN'T KILL HER!! LOOK AT HIS FUCKING FACE WHEN HE REALIZES IT!!

They're only saved by the last minute archery intervention from her brother, their ally, who shows up with his army in the nick of time. This is a mere season and a half (though this does include significant time jumps, tbf) after Aldhelm suggested to Aethelflaed's husband that he HAVE HER ASSASSINATED. And a season after ALDHELM WAS SENT TO BE THE ONE TO ASSASSINATE HER! He has a knife to her throat there too, though he doesn't intend to actually kill her, he's just a lowkey dramatic bitch. There is so much fucking knife kink in their storyline, I swear to GOD. 

Also, back to the original question (sorry)…the writers made the choice to have Aethelflaed be in a battle couple with Aldhelm during this ep, not Uhtred (her canonical love interest), and it FUCKS. The whole sequence is just FLAWLESS. I have my issues with that season (season 4 out of 5 total) as it relates to her storyline, but the ship moments are so good. I can't recommend watching the show on the basis that it's good but I can recommend watching it on the basis that those two have burrowed into my brain and live there permanently. I have never written so much fic for a ship as I have for those two, they make me insane, I love them. The show is very much not about either of them (they both appear in s2, also), but they have a really satisfying joint arc for the most part. It's the perfect recipe for shipfic, for me: I am dissatisfied with enough that I have plenty of canon-based ideas, and that pairing has an extremely compelling relationship that's never consummated. Plus it hits all of my kinks: loyal advisor/queen, enemies to lovers, pining, angst, repression, and there is sooo much fic potential for secret relationships, and of course my beloved sexy paperwork feat competency kink as they tackle administrative duties together.

Thank you for letting me yell at you about them, I hope this answers your question hahaha.

[outlanderalien]

Mayuri final arc idea

With the hints that Kubo might be ready to press ahead with the new Hell arc, I started thinking about how Mayuri's arc could be concluded in a satisfying way, this is just an idea I had, I tried to make it feel in character in some way.

I really liked the religious imagery surrounding Mayuri and his Zanpakuto and I'd love for Mayuri's final arc to have Buddhist themes. The point of Buddhism is to reach enlightenment which is achieved through spiritual growth made in each reincarnated life.

I've always liked the idea that despite Mayuri's intellect and ability, he seems very spiritually underdeveloped, immature even, which you could say is represented by his Zanpakuto being a literal baby. When I say underdeveloped I mean that Mayuri indulges in basically every sin imagineable and appears to hold no remourse. Pride, Envy, Wrath, Lust, Greed, etc.

I do like to think that post TYBW Mayuri developed and has become more spiritually mature, there's signs that he treats the new Nemuri with more kindness, but he's still envious of Kisuke, wrathful when his pride is wounded etc. Not much growth, but enough.

What if some time after the events of the TYBW it's a poorly kept secret around Soul Society that Mayuri's zanpakuto has stopped obeying him. It won't enter Bankai let alone Shikai form.

The reason is that Mayuri is at odds with himself and this is manifesting in his zanpakuto rebelling. It is also the end result of years of abusing his zanpakuto, mutilating it, destroying it, etc, and this is just a reflection of how he has mutilated/abused his own soul. He gets by just fine without it, for the most part there's been no need for him to draw his sword, and his talents + skills lie mostly in his genius and inventions. Quietly however he's disturbed by this development, he can't force his zanpakuto to obey him like he used to, and he's too wary of introspection to deal with the core of the issue- his inner conflict.

This started shortly after he created the latest Nemuri. The conflict is one of conscience, specifically that he is (begrudgingly) developing one. He has spent years building his identity as a man without conscience, without morals, which he legitimised by the literal mutilation of his soul (his modifications to the otherwise beneveloent nature of his Zanpakuto), but now as he raises his new daughter with more wisdom and conscience, he finds himself at odds with that uncaring facade.

I haven't considered exactly what will happen in the main body of the arc, but I imagine that in the end, Mayuri will die, and he will do so protecting Nemuri. This will be a clear sign that he has reached a new level of spiritual growth, he chose his conscience over the uncaring facade and sacrificed himself for her sake. As he dies, he watches Nemuri with unimaginable joy as she wields his zanpakuto to kill the foe that got him. The fact that Ashisogi Jizo responds to her means she has become a fully realised soul and his creation has reached a triumphant milestone.

Ashisogi Jizo when wielded by Nemuri takes on an entirely new form, it no longer has any of the modifications Mayuri had made, it emerges in it's original form, how it should've been all along had it not been made monsterous. It is now divine. A symbol of the spiritual growth made. Mayuri dies happy.

In the epilogue it's implied that captain Nemuri intends to carry on Mayuri's work to make souls, quoting her father about how "Nothing is ever perfect, there is always room to improve."

She intends to create a new soul, and this soul will be Mayuri. This becomes her life's work, stating that she will not rest until she returns the zanpakuto to its original master. Some years down the line, Captain Nemuri can be seen walking alongside her ill-mannered and eccentric Lieutenant, Mayu. He doesn't remember who he once was, but Nemuri waits patiently for him to one day return to himself, only this time round he'll be more spiritually mature.

They become literal manifestation of reincarnation, and the struggle to enlightenment. Nemuri is a soul created by Mayuri and so is an extension of his own soul, so any soul Nemuri creates will also have his soul within it, and vice-versa.

So long as one lives the other will continue to exist. Each time they're reborn they become more spiritually mature/powerful.