#Woes Martin

[nem0-nee]

Statement Ends.

Hi I totally didn't die crying while making this >:^))

[ Based on "Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan" by Ilya Repin. ]

BONUS workplace comedy shot below:

I'm not even sorry /j

[randomnameless]

I seriously hilarious how after a year people are still treating Engage like it burned their spouses and fucked their crops. If they love "moral grayness writing" that much, they have tons of other rpgs with similar themes to play, 8 seasons of Game of Thrones to watch and lots of grimdark fantasy books to read.

Seriously, there's only 3 times (if we want to count 3h that badly) where this franchise has tried to explote more nuanced and complex plots, and those games were the Tellius duology and the Jugdral games. The rest have milquetoast fantasy rpg plots. Why they sticking with FE when it's clearly not the franchise for these kinds remains an enigna.

Mmh,

I wouldn't say GOT's seasons are grim d4rk, imo they're trash in the same vein as the Kadarshians TV show, you're watching it to see how ruined things will be

(c'est quoi l'équivalent US/UK de l'émission "les marseillais"? )

I feel like Martin's books were more in the lines of "deconstruction then reconstruction" of the "traditional" fantasy tropes, with his own choice of depicting very grim and dark things that participate in the "deconstruction" side of his works... even if at times it borders on misery porn and, tbh, misogyny.

Fantasy settings, in general, always have some sort of monarchy and morale of "the good/rightful king returns home and everything is better!" - you can add some twists here and there, but in general, and especially FE, it's that kind of frame. We're not in game where Bob and John feel like Hector charges them too much for the sewer tax, and file a claim to his court to be discharged from paying said tax.

I'm not saying you can't add twists and add some sort of depth to the game, hell the Tales of franchise often tries to add some greater theme to their general "hero with a sword whacks people and is ultimately involved in a greater quest to save the world while eating appel gels", Symphonia tries to tackle racism and how being a victim or racism doesn't give you a pass to create concentration camps to turn people you see as "inferior beings" as fuels/devices to upgrade you and your chosen ones (even if that plot point utterly vanished when the MC goes "i wish we could have been friends" which is, uh, I guess where i found Kishimoto's inspiration for Obito I guess), Abyss tackles the existential crisis of clones/people created to be spares, do they have the right to exist beyond the purpose of their original creation or not? - etc etc.

Funny how you mention Tellius, because IMO, Tellius is even more shaky/wonky than Fodlan (or at least it's a serious competition) with its general message of "racism BaD but miscegenation BaD too" which is, uh... well.

That leaves Jugdral with all of the stuff it wanted to convey - and managed to do while being a SNES duology (I think?) - and yet Jugdral is, at its core, a story of "rightful heir returns to his throne" with some emphasis, especially in FE5, on what "rightful" means but the premise is the same, it's not Dalshin who's going to become the Lord of New Thracia, it's Leif because Leif is Quan'n'Ethlyn's son : his journey in FE5 is all about learning to become a good leader/king.

Back to your post, if people want a game where you "smash the patriarchy" and bring "the revolution"... well, the FE series is not (or wasn't, who knows how it will turn out to be in the near future) for you.

[queer-berry]

Berry stop posting during school challenge

Martin Blackwood I love you. Decided to draw my design for him post-lonely because it makes me insane. Basically season 5 design. I’m very happy with it I love making characters look cool and unique. Mans has been through it the least I can do is make him look more swag.

[echolett]

I never got over how fast Jon started relying on martin

I guess mainly due to the fact I listened to most of the podcast at work?? like I got that Martin liked Jon or at least was attracted to Jon since the beginning but for all of S1 and most of s2 and 3 Jon and martin never really did anything really important together?

maybe I missed it but their relationship kinda came out of left field for me but it was still cute so I'll let it go. I just assumed it must have been the large amount of trauma and the fact that they r both of the og crew

?? I might just have missed a lot of context clues my bad team

[creeperthescamp]

is there a generator that simply gives you a random oblivion npc? not as in a character generator that makes a randomized build for you but just gives you a random character from the game? like you click a button and you get some guy like no-coins draninus or gan luseph or else god-hater.

i want it for fun and possibly (if I'm feeling up to it) art reasons. there's a tes art prompt generator out there but it covers all the modern tes games and doesn't seem to include every weird and non essential guy

google doesn't know what I mean.... do I have to make it myself? idk how to make anything like that but i could learn...

[ujustwaitsunshine]

10 WHOLE SECONDS 😐

[yousaytomato]

Dan is like if Guy Martin was a baker

[thehoneyedhufflepuff]

note to self NOT to get rid of the last 39k I've written because it's probably not as big of a Mistake as I think it is

[ticenchantedtoc]

Some Rejuvenation Headcanons

(mostly disability headcanons hehe)

Kreiss has issues with his blood pressure, and Martin absolutely worries about it. Half the reason he insisted Kreiss get a phone was just so he could check on him and remind him to eat better. The dizziness definitely doesn't help with his sensitivity to motion sickness <3

Despite how distant he may seem now, Rorim B. was pretty overprotective of Crawli when he was little. (Holly was too, of course.) Crawli always loved the wilderness and had a habit of wandering off on his own. After nearly a full-day search when he was maybe ten, Rorim found him in a small cave not far from Kakori Village, perfectly safe and surrounded by bug pokemon. Though he almost tried to battle them in his panic, Crawli explained that he had made friends with the bugs, and they even followed the pair back to town. Rorim wasn't so protective over him after that (which began the divide between him and Holly), and when Crawli was a teen, Rorim trusted him enough to leave and travel Aevium once more.

Crawli uses a white cane around Kakori, but he doesn't use it when undercover as Agent C. He wears the sunglasses for the same reason; He doesn't want to give his identity away! That's not to say he gets around fine without it, not remotely. But it's fine, he can still have a laugh at his own expense when he bonks his shoulder off a door frame or trips over an uneven sidewalk. (This is, in fact, why he wouldn't go into Goldenwood Forest with the player.)

After being reconstructed, Geara still has chronic pain. It's not as bad as the glitching, at least, but it's bad enough to put him in a bad worse than usual mood. Most of the Xen executives have picked up on this, which only frustrates him more.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Helloooo your recs give me life. You’ve probably done this before, but any recommendations for fics that include a brutally pining Derek and oblivious Stiles? Ideally canon-verse but aus are also loved. Thanks in advance!!

I'm sure I have, but I love pining in all fics. So I'm happy to make a million lists of it.

Fun by Halevetica

(1/1 I 3,889 I Teen)

Stiles convinces Derek to go to the annual Beacon Hills bonfire with him, with the promise of fun. What he gets instead are a lot of assumptions that he and Stiles are dating, and Stiles' too-eager dismissals, which are decidedly NOT fun for Derek.

Game On by stilinskisparkles

(1/1 I 6,391 I Teen)

Derek first sees him from across the quad four days into fall semester. He’s sitting on one of the long benches, a marker pen in his mouth, grinning at something the kid lounging on the bench beside him is saying. When he laughs properly he pulls the pen out and throws his head back, his neck a long, lean line Derek is entranced by. He flicks the page in his book and highlights something, tossing the cap up in the air and catching it with his teeth.

Written in the Stars by Quixoticity

(6/6 I 26,586 I Mature)

Derek Hale is a lucky guy. He's got a great family, good friends, and a fulfilling job as a tattoo artist.

He's also one of the twenty-five per cent of the population born with a soul mark.

He likes his life, but he's waiting for his soul-match. The odds of meeting them aren't great but hey, Derek's a lucky guy. He has faith.

He can't believe how good his luck really is when one day his soul-match wanders right into his studio, all long limbs and copper eyes. There's just one problem: Stiles is there to get his soul mark covered up. Permanently.

Mating Habits of the Domesticated North American Werewolf by lielabell

(5/5 I 35,458 I Mature)

Derek doesn’t do pining. He doesn’t. So when it becomes clear that Stiles is much more interested in having Derek as a new best friend than a boyfriend, he puts on his big boy pants and makes it fucking work. He becomes the best goddamn friend a spastic teenager could ever hope to have.

too busy being yours to fall for somebody new by whiry

(12/12 I 64,278 I Teen)

Stiles, worried that Scott may actually leave him behind because of his newfound popularity, is desperate to cling to something away from the drama of Lydia Martin's amazing parties and the woes of high school lacrosse. What he finds is Derek Hale, a guy who seemingly hates Stiles at first, but slowly, and insistently, becomes friends with him. As their friendship grows, Stiles starts to wonder if they could ever become something more or if pushing what they have will lead him to being alone for good.

All the Weird Kids (Know How to Take it Slow) by Ionaonie

(26/26 I 112,477 I General)

Stiles never thought being part of a werewolf Pack would end up being so normal. Even being around Derek had a degree of normality about it. Even if he was still an overbearing jerk most of the time.

When it all comes crumbling down by Littleredridinghunter

(18/18 I 216,191 I Not Rated)

Stiles is recovering from the Nogitsune. Erica is the only one that is really there for him, Scott's too busy rekindling his relationship with Allison and Stiles feels like he's falling apart.

When a near-miss with a kelpie results in an encounter that he could never have predicted, Stiles begins to think his life might be getting back on track.

He's wrong.

Stiles' life is so messed up he can't even begin to explain it, maybe it's time for him to finally do something for himself and get out of Beacon Hills. But where will that path lead?

With Stiles involved, no doubt danger and death won't be far behind.

AND

@the-diggler and @adventures-in-mangaland suggested this one!

Safety in Silence by Survivah

(5/5 I 66,901 I Mature)

It's perfectly understandable. Even Derek wouldn't want to be Derek's soulmate.

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

The Woes of Betrothals (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Part 2 about the wedding is out now! Read it here 

Synopsis: Recently betrothed, Prince Aemond is unsure on the virtues befitting that of a good husband. Ser Criston offers some surprisingly useful insight. 

Warnings: nothing explicit, just Aemond being emotionally constipated 

Word Count: 3k words. this was supposed to be a short one shot 😭

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out! 

A/N: In a fluff writing mood recently, so expect to see more fluffs coming your way (not just for aemond :)) 💗

lovely dividers once again credited to @firefly-graphics​ !

Heavy grunts and the clashing sound of steel on steel resonated through the training yard of the Red Keep. Surrounded by a crowd of onlookers, Prince Aemond, his forehead beaded with sweat, moved deftly to dodge a blow struck by Ser Criston Cole’s morningstar. 

It was nearly noon, and the Prince and Kingsguard had been training since the break of dawn. Ser Criston had a look of exhaustion on his face, the midday sun clearly taking a toll on him, but Prince Aemond continued sparring with a fierce determination, parrying Criston’s offensives with utmost precision or viciously swinging his sword to land a blow on the knight. 

Whilst the prince was fond of training for long hours, Ser Criston was familiar enough with Prince Aemond’s various moods to know that today, while he was there in person, he was not in spirit. Seeing a chance, Criston quickly moved to swing a blow at Prince Aemond, and succeeded in catching him off guard, knocking the sword from the Prince’s hand for the first time this morning. 

Criston expected the prince to get angry that he had been bested, but Aemond merely raised a brow and rolled his eye, “I yield. Let us cease training for this morning.” Applause broke out through the training yard, and Criston had to hide a grin. It had been a while since he managed to beat Aemond in training. 

As the crowd dispersed, Criston noticed Aemond polishing his sword at a corner, a brooding look on his face. Feeling particularly emboldened this morning at his victory, Criston walked towards the prince, setting down his morningstar as he questioned, “What troubles you, my prince?” 

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you are insinuating, Cole,” came Aemond’s curt response, but Criston was undeterred. “You may pretend all is well, but you have been on edge for a few days now, aye?” Criston commented, observing how the prince’s jaw was clenched. Oddly enough, he noticed doubt shining in the prince’s lone violet eye., catching Criston off guard “You may have been sparring with me this morning, but your heart is elsewhere. Tell me what troubles you, my prince.” 

Criston expected the prince to scowl and tell him it was none of his business, but instead, Aemond let out a pensive sigh, before tentatively asking, “Ser Criston, how do you reckon one should please their betrothed?” 

Criston’s ears immediately stood up in attention. Gods be good, the One-Eyed Prince was asking him for advice? And about his betrothed no less. As a Kingsguard, Criston had to suppress a laugh at the irony. “Are you referring to the Lady Y/N Y/L/N, my prince?” 

“Well, it could hardly be anyone else, could it?” Aemond retorted, though his heart was not in it. Criston watched, amused, as Aemond hummed contemplatively, “As you know, she and I were betrothed less than a moon’s turn ago. I had not crossed paths with her often before that, but…” Aemond swallowed, thinking of how brilliantly she smiled at him every time he had the fortune of being graced with her presence. He had always knew that his marriage would be one of duty and political benefit to his house, but over the course of getting to know the lady over the past few weeks, he found her company pleasant, and her gentle charm and surprisingly humorous wit a welcome change in the usual dreadfully boring courtiers at the Red Keep. And with every passing moment he spent in her presence, he felt a small sliver of affection for her begin to blossom in his heart. “As I got to know her more, I soon began to wish to be the sole cause of her brilliant smiles, her beautiful laughter, and selfishly, the sole receiver of her love and affection.”

Aemond had to resist the urge to bury his face in his hands. He was sounding like a lovesick fool, in front of Cole, of all people. Gods, he was an idiot, an utter idiot. Swords he could swing and books he could read, but when it came to affection, he found himself no better than an ignorant babe. “It sounds as though you harbour a great affection for the lady Y/L/N,” Criston smiled. “Yes,” Aemond said softly, his voice tinged a little with despair. “But I am unsure on how to best express my affections. She is akin to an ethereal maiden, and I’m naught but a crippled prince, who is stumped in my duties as a husband. I cannot seem to muster up the courage to proclaim my love for her, or shower her with praises and compliments.” 

‘Gods, what if she is unhappy with my performance of my duties as her husband because I am too much of a coward to even talk to her about my feelings?’ Aemond thought in alarm, mind racing. He did not want to be the reason why those lovely smiles of hers cease to exist. He wanted to make her feel like the most blissful woman in the realm. But he was completely clueless as to how. Words seemed completely inadequate to express the depth of his affection for her, and he had never been the best with his words anyway. 

Just then, Aemond felt a hand on his shoulder, grounding him to reality once more “Breathe, my prince,” Criston’s steady voice calmed Aemond down, making his racing thoughts come to a screeching halt. “I do believe you are overthinking things, my prince. Contrary to popular belief, I think that affection need not be expressed in elaborate gestures or through fervent declarations of love all the time.” 

Aemond’s eyebrows shot up, “Then how will she know how much I appreciate her? I can barely converse with her without looking like a stuttering fool.” Criston smiled, a sort of fatherly affection filling his eyes as he glanced down at the prince. “Though I am lacking in experience in matters of the heart, I believe that affection isn’t always just about grand gestures. Words are not the only outlet to express your admiration of her, my prince. You can start with the little actions: spending time with her, bringing her flowers, talking more with her about her interests, that sort of thing.” “And you think that that would be sufficient?”Aemond was a little sceptical. 

“Of course, that would not suffice in the long run. You are to be married, my prince, you will spend countless years with each other, you will have to do more than that.” Aemond’s face turned crestfallen, causing Criston to pat his shoulder, “However, given your trouble in expressing your feelings, these small gestures are a start. Build up from there, and you’ll find it easier to demonstrate your love for her over time.” Aemond’s gaze was still pensive, but his eye was sparkling a little with hope. “But what if I’m at a loss of words every time I’m with her? Won’t she find my company dreadfully dull then?” Criston couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from him, though Aemond looked faintly offended at that. “Sometimes, your company is good enough, your Grace. Not all your time spent together need be filled with meaningful conversations. Basking in each other’s presence is bliss enough.” 

Satisfied with Criston’s response, Aemond stood up with a decisive look. “I am grateful for your advice, Cole. I shall depart to implement your advice at once.” Before leaving, however, Aemond tilted his head and smirked slightly, “You are rather good at giving romantic advice for a knight, Ser Criston. Your wisdom is wasted on being a Kingsguard.” 

Criston barked a laugh, thinking of that someone from so long ago. “Mayhaps, your grace. But I think I am rather content imparting my knowledge to you for now.” Aemond said nothing at that, only raising a hand in farewell as he strode off. Criston watched him depart, a slight grin on his face. ‘The Queen would be delighted to hear of this,’ he thought to himself with a degree of satisfaction. 

You were sitting in Princess Helaena’s apartments, forehead furrowed in concentration as you delicately weaved a needle through the handkerchief you were embroidering for your betrothed. The midday sun shone through the long windows, casting a light golden glow throughout Helaena’s chambers. 

“Here, what do you think of this?” Helaena leaned over to you, eyes shining with anticipation as you held up your work so far. “It’s beautiful,” Helaena complimented, “Is that a raven?” You nodded, tilting your head to inspect your work. “Do you think it is too unusual to embroider on a handkerchief?” Helaena laughed, “You should not be asking me. Given the fact that-” she held up her own embroidery, and you laughed when you caught sight of a large beetle on her handkerchief. 

“I have to ask, however, why a raven?” Helaena inquired. You bit your lip softly, remembering your last interaction with your betrothed, Aemond. Knowing your love for birds, Aemond had taken you to Grand Maester Orwyle’s rookery, to see the various birds he had fostered there. You had both taken a liking to the ravens, with their intelligent eyes and strangely silent demeanour, compared to the other noisier birds in the rookery. You thought to yourself that they reminded you much of Aemond, though you did not say it out loud, watching with fond eyes as Aemond fed a raven and stroked its feathers, with a gentleness you did not know he possessed. 

“Your brother seems to like them,” you answered, smiling. Helaena beamed, “I’m sure he would be pleased with your gift.” “I do hope so,” your voice trailed off hesitantly, causing Helaena to take your free hand and squeeze it lightly. You had been much enamoured with your betrothed ever since your arrival to King’s Landing several moon turns ago, and you have come to know and appreciate him for his silent, thoughtful aura. However, his comportment did spell some uncertainty in you. While you knew this was a political match, your heart couldn’t help but yearn that your future husband would love you as much as you did him. 

But it was nigh impossible to tell what the One-Eyed Prince was thinking whenever we spent time together. He seemed perfectly cordial to you…but you wished you could get a further glimpse into what he felt for you. Did he feel at least a fraction of the adoration you felt for him? Or were you doomed to spend a lifetime in a courteous, yet dispassionate and loveless marriage with a man you long admired? 

Your thoughts were cut off by a sudden knock on the door. Startled, you nearly dropped your embroidery, but Helaena caught it deftly just in time. Sheepishly murmuring your thanks, you watched as a serving girl came into the room and curtsied in front of the both of you. “Your Grace, my lady, Prince Aemond is requesting to see you.” 

Aemond? Your heart began pounding furiously, delight and anticipation filling you. Was he here to see you? You tried tamping down your excitement, thinking firmly to yourself that he could be equally as likely to be here for Helaena. “Did he say which of the two of us he wanted to see?” “He wished to see Lady Y/N, your Grace.”

Your heart was beating so fast it felt dangerously close to exploding. Your mind was spinning in a dizzying rush of emotions. Helaena dismissed the serving girl, and smiled at you, “Well, I should not keep my brother waiting any longer for his betrothed. Go.” 

“Thank you, your Grace. Will I see you at dinner with the Queen tonight?” “Of course. You must tell me everything that happens,” Helaena’s eyes twinkled merrily. “That is a given,” you stood up and curtsied, before exiting the room, clutching the handkerchief you just sewed like it was the last thing grounding you to reality. Your steps were light and airy, and your heart nearly stopped when you saw Aemond standing by a window, his back to you, looking as majestic as ever in his training gear and his long silver hair flowing down his back. Your betrothed. 

“My Prince,” a sweet voice broke through Aemond’s thoughts. He turned around, his eye widening as he beheld his fair lady. She was dressed beautifully as always, in a light pink gown with a square neckline and elbow length sleeves. Pearl earrings dangled from her earlobes, serving only to accentuate her lovely complexion. He strode to her as she curtsied, his hand reaching out to her shoulder. 

“At ease,” Aemond’s voice was like velvet. “You are my betrothed, there is no need for such formalities.” You nodded shyly, meeting Aemond’s eye, surprised that today, there was actually a flicker of emotion behind it. Noticing how he shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot, your eyes widened slightly as you realised that Aemond Targaryen, the usually composed and unflinching prince, was nervous. And it was because of you. 

Aemond cleared his throat, finally revealing what he had been hiding behind his back. Just when you thought the day’s events could not get any stranger than seeing Aemond being anxious, you were caught even more off guard when you spotted an assortment of pink, blue and orange blooms in his hand. 

“These are for you, my lady,” he added, eye darting over her face to drink in all her beautiful features and most importantly, her reaction to his attempt at expressing his adoration for her. He was immensely relieved to find nothing but genuine delight on his betrothed’s face. 

“Oh, they’re wonderful,” you exclaimed happily, a flush going to your cheeks. “You are too kind, my prince. Thank you, I love them.” Aemond watched tenderly as she took the flowers and held them to her nose. She was simply angelic. 

You inhaled the sweet scent of the flowers, feeling your heart flutter at his sudden, but welcome gesture of affection. Perhaps this was a sign he returned your feelings? 

Aemond took a deep breath, trying to recall all the advice Criston had told him in the training yard just now. He had stopped by the garden to pick out the prettiest wildflowers he could find, but he found that none could compare to the sheer radiance of his betrothed when she smiled. ‘Focus’, Aemond told himself sternly, trying to collect his thoughts. ‘This was about making her see how much I care for her, not waxing on and on internally about how utterly struck I am by her beauty. I cannot mess this up.’ 

‘I must make her see how she has come to become the sun in my life.’ 

But Aemond was cut off by your sudden ‘Oh!’ Aemond nearly jumped out of his skin, afraid that there was something wrong with the flowers. But he was puzzled when you extended a handkerchief to him, smiling brightly. “I embroidered this for you. Take this as a token of gratitude for the flowers.” Aemond turned over the handkerchief delicately, tracing over the raven and various flowers sewed at the corner of the handkerchief, along with his initials, ‘A.T’ He felt his breath catch in his throat, “This…this is…” 

You watched him nervously as he stammered before falling into silence. Did he not like it? Perhaps he thought the raven was too much? You gripped the flowers in your hand a little tighter, saying a prayer to the Seven in your mind. 

Your worries were immediately allayed when Aemond pressed a shaky kiss onto your forehead. Startled, yet utterly enchanted, you stared up at him, who looked almost as shocked as you were at the kiss. “I…I take it you like your gift then?” you asked softly. 

He let out a quiet chuckle, “I think ‘like’ is an understatement, my lady. It is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given to me. I shall cherish it forever. As I will with you.” 

Aemond nearly screamed when he realised he blurted out the last part. ‘Why did I say that, why did I say that, why did I say that!’ his mind flooded with panic. However, suddenly emboldened from the adrenaline of the moment, he finally found the courage to express what he had been feeling for his fair lady. “My lady, I would like to confess something, and I think there couldn’t be a more appropriate time than this. I am hopelessly besotted with you.” He watched her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, and he hurried to add, “Tis alright if you do not return those feelings! I understand, believe me. I do not wish to force you to do anything you are uncomfortable with. But it’s just that I loved you for so long, and I had no idea how to tell you, and I fear if I let this moment slip I will never muster up the bravery to tell you again and gods I-” the energy suddenly drained out of him as he found himself once again, at a loss of words. “I just…adore you beyond belief. Beyond what I can fathom. Please ignore my ramblings if you are uncomfortable with them, just take them as the words of a lovesick fool.” He averted her eyes, embarrassment and sadness filling him. How could he hope for someone as good and wonderful as her to love such a beast as him? The Gods should strike him down for his pride. 

A warm hand reached for Aemond’s, interlacing her fingers with his. Aemond looked up in disbelief at your next words, “You have no idea how thankful I am to hear those words…because I feel the same.” You smiled shyly at him, “I was hoping you had the same sentiments as I did, and now that you professed your feelings, I could not be happier.” 

Aemond reached out to grip her hand with both of his, cradling her soft hand in his hands, staring deep into her eyes, sparkling with so much devotion and adoration. They stood in silence for a while, before Aemond pulled her hand gently to his lips and planted a reverent kiss to her knuckles. 

“Would you…perhaps care to take a stroll with me, my lady? I believe we have a lot to discuss.” 

“I would love nothing more, your Grace.” 

let me know if you wish to be added to a taglist for general aemond works! if you enjoyed this fic, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) thank you for reading! 

[cheriladycl01]

It’ll come eventually, promise! - Lando Norris x Driver! Reader

Plot: You are there for your boyfriends first race win!

Starting in Miami was always a great feeling. But what was even better was having been promoted to F1 for the 2024 season and getting to drive it as one of the top 20 drivers in the world.

When Lawrence Stroll dropped Aston Martin to bankroll a new team at the end of 2023, Lance moving was without a doubt a thing happening. But that left a free seat open at a high mid field team. Which they were more than happy to get you on board with considering your racing history.

Fernando in the few races you’d got to know him had became an excellent mentor and had taught you lots and you were thankful for him. He was like your on grid dad.

You’d had a decent season so far.

P10 in Bahrain - your first race and you were in the points only a few seconds behind your teammate.

P6 in Saudí - where you were able to drive with your old Prema teammate Oliver Bearman who was just behind you in P7.

P5 in Australia - where you got to celebrate your boyfriends first podium of the season.

P12 in Japan - some unforeseen issues in qualifying leaving you in P16 and having to climb your way up.

P6 in China - happy to celebrate both your points finish and your boyfriends first P2 podium of the season.

And you didn’t want to disappoint in Miami, not when there was so many people riding on your going well. F1 Academy where there looking up to you, and all of the stars that normally attended Miami.

Thursday came around and you were in the paddock messing around in TikTok with Fernando. Everyone loved you guys as the ‘dad and daughter duo’ where everyone could see how much he genuinely cared for you and wanted you to succeed. He always would praise you and boost your confidence when talking about you in interviews like many others making your have a huge fan base after only being in F1 for a few months.

Friday came around and you were still feeling great, the Miami heat was blazing and you and Fernando had been making TikTok’s to the Will Smith song that had been trending on F1 TikTok with the build up and anticipation for the weekend ahead.

Getting in the car for FP1 and you were flying. P5 … Alonso down in P19. He was too stressed though. But you were beyond excited knowing you got P5 without pushing too hard as your engineers had just asked you to get used to the track in an F1 car.

It was your boyfriend who you’d snuck into his hospitality just to give a massive cuddle when you text you saying he needed you, that wasn’t having a great weekend.

Despite the vast amount of upgrades brought to his car he’d only come in P16 where as Oscar who had half the upgrades he did was cruising up in P2 and he was frustrated to say the least.

Next was the Sprint Qually which you’d actually been doing well in for the other in China the previous week.

You went coming in a measly P10, not enough for points.

Lando was even more annoyed with starting in P9 on the same row as you, not that he thought he was the better driver or anything but right now he definitely had the better car and he just couldn’t work out why it wasn’t performing.

“Baby, it’ll come eventually I promise” you sighed that night as you held him closely in your shared hotel bed. His head was rested in your chest as all of his worries and woes were let out.

He always thought so negatively of himself and you hated it, in your eyes he was the most amazing person ever.

“But what if it doesn’t, what if I never win and … I’m just a wash out of podiums and missed opportunity” he said looking up at you, and his eyes made you cave. He looked so sad and helpless.

“Lando… I promise you. When the time is right, you’ll get that win. You’ve worked so hard for this and it’s something you deserve. Baby, you are the most driven and ambitious person I know and you will be a world champion. In my eyes you already are” you told him softly and he just pulled you tighter to him as he nuzzled into you more, so thankful for you being in his life.

Come the next day, and it was the sprint race. You managed to get yourself into the points coming in P6 having overtaken Lando and those ahead. Once Lando saw you going for it he knew he had to get up there with you!

He started to push it a little too much and ended up with a DNF. It was a very disappointing weekend thus far considering the amount of upgrades McLaren had brought to the team.

Qually begun and you were all the way down in P11 after your car malfunctioning in Q2 meaning you didn’t get into Q1.

Lando had a better qualifying coming in just ahead of his teammate. He felt a lot better going to bed with you that night and it was more him comforting you than the other way it had been the other night.

“Baby, you got all you could out of that car. You literally couldn’t do anything else your engine shut down!” He exclaims as you hadn’t really spoken to him all night. You’d been silent at dinner and once your got back to the room.

He pulled you into a hug as you let out a sigh thinking things over in your head before smiling at Lando and kissing his neck and up his jaw.

“Thank you, for the pep talk. And just being you” you smiled at him.

Then came race day.

Oscar had an incredible start going from P6 all the way to P2 and was really increíble. Your also had a fantastic start, deciding to be aggressive and managed to go from P11 into P8. You managed to get the inside line overtaking Yuki, your teammate Alonso and then Hamilton.

“Amazing driving Y/N. It’s looking good, we going to try for the 1 stop. Manage those tyres for now” your race engineer explains. And you did, slowing your pace for a little bit. You abused the safety car for you pit stop, just like Lando did, leaving you coming out in P6.

“Is Lando still in P1?” You ask, knowing he would be ahead of Max and Charles right now.

“Yes, Lando, Max, Charles Oscar and Carlos ahead” he explains. Right now you were defending from Perez when all of a sudden he swung round the outside knocking Sargeant into the gravel and into the race.

“Yellow flag for Sargeant!” You say clearly into your radio for the severity of where Logan was.

“Yellow flag and safety car released” your engineer informs you. You were stressing now, you knew that Lando would be fighting Max once the safety car is released.

“Is Logan okay? Is he out the car!” You ask.

“Yes, it’s all fine”

You focused on closing the gap to Carlos, who you knew would be fighting Oscar hard to try and get up into the podium positions so he can celebrate with Lando if he can hold of Max.

You were 0.076 seconds behind Carlos but before you could overtake him, he clipped the back of Oscar as he goes for an overtake nearly sending the Australian into you.

He pitted, leaving him down in a lower position out of points by the time he had come out, meaning that you and Carlos were battling it out with each other and Sergio Perez behind both of you.

“If you can get within 5 seconds of him, he has a time penalty for the incident with Piastri” your engineer explained to you.

“And Lando, is he still P1?” You ask.

“Yes Lando is P1 with a 6 second lead on Max” he answers and you feel as though you could cry.

“Today is the day Marcus” you smile as you speed up catching back up to Carlos. With the laps left you manage to overtake him getting into your highest finish of the season in P4. You couldn’t share a podium with your boyfriend but, part of you didn’t want to.

“Race finished, P4 amazing job today Y/N congratulations” your engineer exclaimed.

“What about Lando? Did he win?” You ask immediately not too bothered about your result.

“With a 7 second gap to Max, Lando won” he says and you let out a scream of happiness for him. YES’s whooping and a lot of swear words came from your mouth into the radio.

You knew later it would be aired and you get in trouble for your language but you really didn’t care.

Today was Lando’s day and you didn’t want to damper that. He’d just won his first F1 race after 110 of them. And you couldn’t be prouder of him, you were so happy and you were sobbing for him as you pulled up into where all the cars were.

You went over to your team, in Aston who had all come out to congratulate you on your best race so far. P11 to P4 on one set of tyres.

You were hugging them before one tapped you on the back, showing you Lando who was just getting out of his car. You rushed over to him pulling him into a massive hug.

“And there is Y/N Y/L/N driver of Aston Martin congratulating Lando on his first win with a huge hug! She’s crying, he’s crying! It’s a beautiful sight really, just two young drivers congratulating each other … wow what a day for both of them” the sky sports presenter admits on the tv watching the interaction down in park ferme.

“I love you so much! You are incredible Lando Norris” you smile gripping his helmet and flipping up his visor so you could see his tears rolling down onto his balaclava.

“Omg I won! I can’t believe I did it! I WON!” He cries and you just grin.

“Believe it Lando Norris because you are now an F1 race winner!” You smile and he does a cheer. You let him walk off, watching as he jumps into his team to celebrate.

You rush with the team after they’ve let Lando go, to go watch the podium. You were so excited and it definitely wasn’t something you were going to pass up!

As you watch him lift up his trophy it feels like your falling in love with him all over again, and it’s a feeling taking over your whole entire body. There is nowhere else and no one else you want to be or be with right now.

He can’t stop smiling at you and you can’t stop the happy tears from rolling down your face. Your cheering with Bianca who you’d grown close to and started to mentor a little bit even though you had Tina and Jessica around a little bit more as your Aston Martin girls.

Once the anthem starts you can’t help but see just how radiant he looks, the way the lowing Miami sun was beaming on him and making his already golden skin glow.

That was your man, your boyfriend and your future husband because in this moment you were sure you would do anything and everything to keep him by your side.

He was your soulmate and you were his, and as he was looking down at the way your face had tear stains and was a little puffy from rubbing away the tears he couldn’t agree more.

Clubbing for sure wasn’t the only celebrations that happened that night for you and Lando, that’s for sure.

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[themostat]

Woe, S1 jmart be upon ye

(ID under the cut)

[ID:

The first image is a digital drawing of Martin Blackwood from the magnus archives. He is visibly flustered, and smiling awkwardly. He is holding two mugs, one in each hand. He is trying to push up his glasses with the mug in his right hand. He is holding the mug in his left hand neutrally. The mug in his left hand has the tag of a teabag hanging out of it, and barely visible text that reads "#1 Archivist". His hair is auburn and wavy/loosely curly, and cut to a medium-short length. He is wearing large round glasses. He has a light skin tone, and visible freckles on his face, neck and hands. He is wearing a white button-up fastened all the way, and a beige cardigan.

The second image is a digital drawing of Jonathan Sims from the magnus archives. He is holding a tape recorder in his left hand, and with his right index finger, is pressing the "record" button. He looks like he's concentrating, or maybe slightly annoyed. His hair is very dark brown with visible grey strands, and is slightly curlier than martin's. His hair is quite short, with a bit of a longer fringe. He has a medium-dark skin tone, and visible facial hair also speckled with grey. He is wearing glasses with oval-shaped frames and glasses chains. He is also wearing a white button-up, with a navy blue tie and a mossy green sweater. His sleeves are cuffed to the elbows.

End ID]

[crit20art]

[ID: a digital drawing of Martin Blackwood from The Magnus Archives, shyly modeling a simple blue dress. He is depicted as a tall, fat Vietnamese-Polish man with light brown skin and abundant freckles. He is trans and non-op, and has cleavage and chest hair. His facial hair is patchy and scruffy, and his haircut is short, with the fringe styled in waves. He wears combat boots, purple browline glasses, blue plug earrings, and a blue ribbon choker. End ID.]

woe date night Martin be upon ye

[not-another-parable]

Martin tensed as soon as Joule jumped in front of it, its eyes darting back behind Joule like it expected the figure it barely caught a glimpse of to jump back out and attack them at any moment.

"Wh-what? 432, do you know who that was? Oh, no, what have they told you? Have they hurt you? Do you--?" Martin's questions came to a sudden halt as it realized what it was saying. It was almost about to ask if they felt safe near them. But considering how they spoke of Martin and McConnell's work, it was likely... at the very least, ironic for Martin to be the one asking such questions, in their opinion.

But what if it wasn't a Narrator? What if it was another Employee? What if it was someone who needed Martin's help and the guidance of McConnell to--

Martin pulled itself from its thoughts, looking down to Joule. They lived in such unknowable, uncontrollable chaos, an unending stream of uncertainty that they genuinely preferred to order and control, no matter how dangerous it may be. Martin couldn't believe the next words that left its mouth, without it even knowing.

"I... trust you, J-Jo-Joule...."

Why did it say that. Why would it say that. As soon as Martin had processed what it had just done, it's blood went cold, it's skin somehow found a way to grow paler, and it trembled as it now began frantically checking over it's shoulders. It addressed an Employee by name, they don't need names, and Martin certainly doesn't need to be calling them by anything except their numbers. It wasn't trying to become friends with them, was it? No, no, no, this was terrible, surely something absolutely awful would come of this, any second now, and surely, 432 could feel it, too, yes?

not-another-parable​:

“But… But he loves me….” Martin whispered, facing Joule with tears streaking down its face. It tries to pull it’s thoughts together in another response, but it’s soon distracted by the sound of James scuttling back into his room. It stood from the desk, creeping towards the doorway and outstretching an arm to keep Joule behind it.

“Who- who’s there? …08, is that you? 432, stay close to me, I….” It looked back to Joule with a watery eye, lowering its voice. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Beyond the streams of cables, James frantically ran around his small office, fetching a suitcase from a cobweb-coated corner. He slammed it down onto his work station and crammed everything within reach inside. His eyes shot from screen to screen, rapidly punching in keys here and turning dials there as he adjusted his headset. “Come on, come on, pick up, pick up!”

Joule had to force back a sarcastic response. They doubted their boss- or this Office’s boss, at least- could love anyone more than he loves himself. But they don’t think that would help Martin’s mental state any.

Not that they’d be able to dwell on this long. Joule also heard James fleeing, and they were immediately certain that Martin heard it too. And it standing, stepping in front of them, protecting them, was enough to confirm it.

Rather quickly, the plan changes. Joule moves around Martin, rushing in front of it. They block its path, arms outstretched.

“W-wait, wait- I-I can assure you, nothing’s going to hurt us here! It’s safe. Look, just- stay here for just a moment. I can explain a bit more.”

Hopefully, they can convince it that James means no harm. Or failing that, they can buy him some time.

[creeperthescamp]

instead of talking and putting coherent sentences together as you're speaking I think you should be able to write everything you want to say in the form of the star wars scrolling intro text and simply blast that into other people's minds. music is optional