#anyhow you definitely do have potential!

[f14fun]

pixelated love (!simmer x mv1) - chapter 8

synopsis: in which the famous three time world champion max verstappen wants to learn how to play the sims 4. except, he doesn't really know how to. so what does he do, search up a youtube tutorial. low-and-behold, y/n's video is the first he watches.

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જ⁀➴✎ ❛❛Y/N's POV❞

The funny thing about catching feelings is that you never know when the walk becomes a stroll, then a jog, and eventually turns into what seems like a never-ending chase.

It’s a flurry of emotions, each step more fervent than the last. At first, you might think it’s just a casual stroll—something light and easy, just taking in the sights and sounds. But then, it evolves into a leisurely walk, where you find yourself more invested, more attentive to the nuances of the path you’re on.

As you get more involved, the pace quickens, and suddenly, what was once a gentle amble has turned into a brisk jog. Your heart starts to race, and every moment feels charged with potential and possibility. The thrill of the chase sets in; you’re no longer just moving along the path but running towards something that feels both exhilarating and daunting.

And just when you think you’ve reached the peak of intensity, the chase turns into a marathon. The emotions swirl around you like a storm, sometimes exhilarating, sometimes overwhelming. It’s as if you’re in a never-ending pursuit, where every stride is driven by hope, fear, and anticipation. It’s a whirlwind of highs and lows, where the finish line seems perpetually just out of reach.

The moment I truly felt my peak of intensity was the moment that I landed in Nice, France, ready to embark towards my ultimate destiny: Being the ultimate Monacan WAG. If you truly believed that last statement, dear reader, I must call you gullible.

Anyhow, the Nice Côte d'Azur Airport had welcomed me with open arms, giving me the twenty kilometer leeway of relief before I was due in the beautiful Principality of Monaco.

And don't get me wrong, but I was scared.

The facade that I put up everyday on stream, on social media, was only a fraction of who I really was. I was left wondering to myself in the hours leading up to meeting Max, "Would he really like me for who I was? What if this was one humongous joke I was apart of, and I was doomed to be the laughingstock?"

Arriving in Monaco, surrounded by its opulence and charm, only heightened my feelings of vulnerability. The grandeur of the setting made my personal fears feel even more pronounced. Would the real me, with all my imperfections and uncertainties, measure up to the expectations set by the facade I had carefully crafted online?

To be put simply, I was only a girl. And I really, really, really hoped that multimillionaire Dutch Formula One racer Max Emilian Verstappen would take pleasure in meeting me.

I had texted Max how I should meet with him, nonchalantly, of course. But on the inside, my palms were sweaty. I was nervous. In person, I wouldn't say I was the best flirt. I was more like that one twelve year old boy at the pool trying to impress a friend group of sixteen year old girls.

I fumbled on my words. I tripped. I missed. I blushed. I ran. I wept about my mistakes, and kept thinking what the absolute fuck did I just say? Why did that just come out of my mouth? I am stupid. I am so stupid.

Simply put, I didn't have much rizz.

Honestly, if I could headbutt myself, I definitely would. I had set myself up for utmost failure for acting like a confident prick, over text, over stream, and over Twitter. I acted like I had it all together, but in reality, if a tall, handsome guy were to actually approach me, you’d see me stumbling over my words and turning into a nervous wreck.

It was pathetic, really.

And oh my gosh, dear reader, if you had seen the look on my face when I had Googled Max Verstappen for the first time...

It was shameful, I will admit.

Learning that he stood six inches above me at his 5'11" stature... I was blushing in the comforting shadows of my bedroom, fearfully gripping my phone, as if Max himself was going to suddenly appear in my room and catch me red-handed, shamelessly watching edits of him.

Hiding under the covers at two am before a long day at work, and pondering if his big, big, bicep muscles from holding a steering wheel all day could eventually hold me in his comforting grasp. Daydreaming, in the middle of meetings with high-end game-development executives, if I could sudden run into his chest and have him hug me until I couldn't breath. Wondering, if I could sit on his thighs one day, and using his veiny hands, he could hold me by my waist and his steamy breath talk into my ear.

Yeah, I get no bitches and I'm horny.

It's pretty obvious to y'all at this point. Don't be a mean girl and judge, though.

And with all of these thoughts, I am not afraid to think them. In the shower, making dinner, watching him race...But it was all put in perspective when I stood outside of his apartment door, waiting for him to let me into his home.

It felt private. Intimate. Different, than all the displays of affection and joyous laughter we shared with the public.

But now I was in the comfort of his home. No prying cameras (at least I hoped that there were no hidden cameras), away from the never-ending watchful eye of the public.

The first thing I noticed about him were his eyes. They were a piercing, greenish, blueish, grayish color—a mix of the sea and comets, a blend of colors I couldn't quite put my finger on.

It was like they held the depth of the ocean, the intensity of a storm, and the mystery of the cosmos all at once. In the soft light of the doorway, they seemed almost otherworldly, drawing me in with their enigmatic allure.

Many people online had said that these eyes were constantly hardened, a result of years spent racing under intense pressure, dealing with tough words from his father, and the unwavering support and strength he garnered from his sister and mother.

They were eyes that had seen the highs of victory and the lows of defeat, that had faced criticism and expectation head-on, and had come out stronger on the other side.

These eyes told a story of resilience and determination, of someone who had been through the wringer and had emerged with a steely resolve. The internet was filled with tales of his focused, almost intimidating gaze on the racetrack, where every glance was calculated and every blink was a strategy.

They spoke of a man who had to grow up fast, who had to build walls to protect himself from the harsh realities of his world.

But when he looked at me, I could swear that I saw them soften.

They drew me in, and for a moment, I knew I could write poetry about them. There was a story in every shade, every flicker of light within those eyes. I could imagine penning verses about their depth, their history, and the way they seemed to hold entire worlds within them.

Suddenly, all my nerves and the fear of being a fumbling, awkward mess seemed to dissipate, at least a little. There was something in the way he looked at me that made me feel seen, like he was looking past the persona and seeing the real me. It was a mix of relief and disbelief, like maybe, just maybe, this wasn't going to be the disaster I had built up in my head.

I had never believed in the saying, "love at first sight", but I could've sworn my heart skipped a beat, if not multiple, when I locked eyes with him. Like I predicted, he was a tall, tall, man. And I, like a lot of people in this world, was not immune to the charm of a tall man.

"Oh, you are very tall," I blurted out.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. The words had slipped past my tongue and out of my mouth, bypassing the more sensible part of me, aka my brain. Damn you, stupid weak heart.

I could feel my face heating up, a wave of embarrassment washing over me. Out of anything I literally could have said, my intrusive thoughts had gotten the best of me. My inner voice was screaming at me to pull it together, but it was too late. The words were out there, hanging awkwardly in the air between us. My poster slumped slightly, there was literally no way to recover this. I desperately needed to find a galvanized stainless steel block to bash my head against repeatedly.

Max chuckled softly, a sound that somehow made me feel a bit more at ease despite my flub. "And you must be Y/N," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Welcome."

Taking a deep breath, I tried to regain my composure. "Yeah, that's me," I said with a small, nervous laugh. "Sometimes when someone makes me hella nervous, it just happens, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" I started, but he cut me off gently.

"I make you nervous?" He smirked at me. "Well I didn't know that."

Okay. Cut the cameras, deadass. I quite literally felt like I was a main character in that weird-ass phone game Episode (yes, my guilty pleasure at three am but nonetheless a fun hobby to have) It was like one of those cliché moments where the charming love interest says something flirty, and the protagonist’s heart skips a beat. Except this was real life, and my heart was doing somersaults.

I could feel my face heating up again, but this time, there was a small part of me that felt… excited? Maybe this wouldn't be a complete disaster after all. Trying to play it cool, I flashed a shy smile. "Yeah, well, you're pretty intimidating in person," I said, hoping to keep the conversation light.

"I cannot believe you said that, I'm just a really big cuddly bear," Max laughed at me, opening his arms out for a hug.

For a split second, I hesitated, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts. But then, the warmth in his eyes and the genuine smile on his face melted away any remaining nervousness.

Stepping forward, I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his strong yet gentle embrace envelop me. It was like being pulled into a cocoon of safety and comfort, his presence immediately soothing the whirlwind of emotions inside me.

As we hugged, I felt the tension in my body start to ease. His arms were warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the anxiety that had been gnawing at me since I landed. In that moment, it felt like all the awkwardness and worries faded into the background. It was just the two of us, sharing a simple, sincere connection.

The hug lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to make me feel grounded and welcomed, a silent promise that maybe this really was the beginning of something special.

And I did believe him, that he was just a really big cuddly bear. His laugh was warm like honey, and I could definitely get used to hugging those biceps and burrowing my head in his chest, like a teddy bear. All I could think of was the moment I whipped out my phone to get on Twitter I would tweet, #needthat.

What???

I'm just a girl.

"You're really fucking cute," Max suddenly stated, his soft voice interrupting my daydream.

Wait wait wait what?? Backtrack please?? Did Max Verstappen just call me cute, as he leans on the fucking doorway and I can see his biceps bulge as he-

Noticing my shocked expression, and my jaw must have been hanging out for a considerably long time without responding, he started to laugh at me.

"I hope I was the first person to tell you that today," He continued.

"Y-you certainly were the first person to say that, oh my," I sputtered, a creeping blushing arising from my neck and blossoming onto my cheeks.

Max's eyes sparkled with mischief as he stepped closer, closing the distance between us. "Well, it's about time someone did," he said, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "I've been looking forward to this moment for a while, you know."

I swallowed hard, trying to regain my composure. "You have?" I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper. The bold, flirtatious Max standing in front of me was a stark contrast to the more reserved person I knew online. It was disorienting, but also incredibly intriguing.

This side of him was magnetic, drawing me in with a mix of confidence and playfulness that I hadn't anticipated. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the realization hitting me that the dynamic between us had shifted entirely.

Online, I had always been the one with the witty comebacks and cheeky comments, but now, standing here in his presence, I felt like I was discovering a whole new dimension of our connection. His boldness was both thrilling and nerve-wracking, making me wonder just how many other surprises he had in store.

"Absolutely," he replied with a grin. "Seeing you now, in person, you're even more stunning than I imagined." He leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving mine, and I felt my heart race faster with every passing second.

"Oh, wow, um, thank you," I stammered, feeling my shyness take over. It was surreal—here I was, the one who had always been confident and playful online, now reduced to a blushing mess in front of him.

Max chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the role reversal. "You know, I always found your confidence online really attractive," he said. "But seeing you like this, all shy and flustered... it's pretty adorable too."

I bit my lip, trying to steady my nerves. "Well, you were always the cool, mysterious racer," I said, attempting to regain a bit of my former bravado. "It's kind of unfair that you're also charming in real life."

He laughed, a rich, warm sound that made my heart flutter. (And I could swear I could hear hundred dollar bills when he laughed) "Guess we both have our secrets," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "But I have to say, I kind of like seeing this side of you."

"Yeah?" I replied, feeling a small surge of confidence. "Maybe you'll see more of it, if you keep being this sweet."

Max took a step closer, his presence enveloping me like a warm blanket. "Oh, I plan to," he said, his voice low and intimate. "Getting to know the real you is something I've been looking forward to. Online was fun, but this...this is so much better."

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks again, but this time it was mixed with excitement. "Well, you better keep up the charm then," I teased, trying to match his playful energy. "I'm not that easy to impress, you know."

He raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Is that a challenge?" he asked, leaning in slightly, his proximity making my heart race even faster.

"Maybe it is," I said, my voice daring but my insides turning to jelly. "Think you can handle it?"

Max grinned, his confidence unwavering. "Oh, I know I can," he said smoothly. "And by the end of this trip, you'll see just how serious I am."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of anticipation and thrill coursing through me. The flirty banter, the unexpected boldness, and the undeniable chemistry between us—it was all so intoxicating. As I looked into his eyes, I realized that this was just the beginning of an adventure that was sure to be full of surprises and unforgettable moments. Spending time with Max felt completely different from any of my past relationships.

There was a new air about him, a different kind of electricity that sparked between us. Unlike the fleeting attention I had received from past lovers, who barely gave me a minute of their day, Max's presence was all-encompassing. He made me feel seen and valued in a way I hadn't experienced before. Each moment with him was charged with genuine interest and warmth, making me feel like I was the only person in the world.

The thought of what lay ahead made my heart race with a mixture of nervousness and exhilaration. I knew that being with Max would be an experience unlike any other, a journey where we would both reveal our true selves and create memories that would last a lifetime.

Don't call me naive, dear reader, because in the moment, it truly felt that way to me...And I really hoped that he felt the same too.

"Alright then," I said, my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach. "Game on."

Max's smile widened, and he extended his hand. "Game on," he echoed, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through me as our fingers intertwined.

"Come on in," he said, leading me into his apartment.

As soon as we stepped inside, I realized that 'apartment' was an understatement. The place felt more like a huge penthouse rather than the modest apartment he had made it out to be. It was luxurious yet still quite plain and humble, a reflection of Max himself. The high ceilings, expansive windows, and elegant but understated furniture gave it a sense of grandeur without being ostentatious.

The living area was open and airy, with floor-to-ceiling glass doors that opened onto a balcony overlooking the city. The view was breathtaking, a sprawling panorama of twinkling lights and distant landmarks that seemed to stretch endlessly. Despite the grandeur, there was an inviting warmth to the space. The furniture, though minimal, was meticulously chosen—sleek modern lines with plush, comfortable seating that suggested a home where one could truly relax.

As we moved through the apartment, I noticed the subtle details: a few well-placed art pieces, not too many, just enough to add character without overwhelming the space. The kitchen was state-of-the-art, with shiny countertops and high-end appliances, but it was evident that Max wasn’t a chef—there were no intricate gadgets or utensils, just the basics. The sparse decorations spoke volumes about his personality: practical and unpretentious.

"Wow," I said, looking around in awe. "You really weren’t kidding when you said you had a big place. This is incredible."

Max shrugged, a hint of embarrassment on his face. "Yeah, I guess it’s a bit bigger than most apartments," he said with a sheepish grin. "But, as you can see, I didn’t exactly go all out on decorating. I’m not really into interior design and don’t have a clue how to make it look... well, more 'homey.'"

I laughed, finding his modesty endearing. "Well, if you ever want to change that, I’m your go-to person," I offered playfully. "I could definitely give this place a bit more personality."

"Oh, really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. "And what if I said I might be more inclined to actually spend more time here if you did?"

I grinned, feeling a spark of excitement at the prospect. "Challenge accepted," I said. "I’ll have to draw up some design ideas for you. Just don’t be surprised if you come home one day and find your place looking like a completely different world."

Max chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter with a teasing glint in his eyes. "Are you saying you’re going to turn my penthouse into something out of a magazine?"

"Something like that," I replied, trying to keep a straight face. "But with a touch of ‘Y/N’ flair. I promise it won’t be all pink and sparkles—unless you really want it to be."

"I think I'd rather die," He rolled his eyes, making me a victim of the sassy man apocalypse. Letting out a sudden bark of laughter, my eyes widened, surprised at the ugly ass noise I just let out.

"Wait no I take it back, it would be way better if I just paint it neon green and tweeted #BratSummerTakeover," I laughed.

"This is way worse than the pink what the hell..." Max laughed at my antics. Finally, he was matching my freak!

"Honestly, CharliXCX and Brat Twitter would probably save you if you got canceled, just because you made your apartment Brat themed," I countered, eye brows raising and daring him to challenge me.

"What would I even get cancelled for? Being too devilishly handsome, maybe," He asked, smirking at me.

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, and I knew I was blushing a lot. "Well, maybe," I stammered, trying to regain my composure. "Or for making girls like me turn bright red with just a few words."

Max's smirk widened, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction. "I think I could live with that," he said, his voice low and teasing. "But seriously, I like seeing this side of you. It's cute."

I blushed even more, trying to deflect the compliment with humor. "Well, you might get canceled for making me turn this red," I quipped, feeling a bit bolder. "And for having terrible taste in decor. Honestly, who wouldn’t want a neon green penthouse? It’s the height of fashion."

Max shook his head, still laughing. "Okay, okay. Maybe we should stick to something a bit more... timeless. How about a black and white theme? Classic, elegant, and less likely to blind anyone who walks in."

I pretended to consider it, tapping my chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, that could work. But only if we add some gold accents. You know, to bring out the sparkle in your eyes."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Gold accents, huh? You really think my eyes sparkle?"

"Like diamonds, just like that one Rihanna song," I said, batting my eyelashes and throwing my hands up in a dramatic fashion. "But seriously, I think we can make this place look amazing. Just trust me."

Max smiled, his gaze softening. "I do trust you. And I’m actually looking forward to seeing what you come up with. Just promise me one thing."

"Anything," I said, leaning in closer, our hands brushing against each other again. I was literally going bonkers from the sexual tension between us two, and I wasn't sure how long I could take it for the next week, before the dam overflowed. And trust me, I don't mind if this dam overflows. Wink wink.

"Promise me you won’t turn it into a jungle. I don’t think I could handle that much greenery," he said with a playful wink.

I laughed, nodding. "Deal. No jungle theme. But I can’t promise there won’t be a few plants. They add life, you know?"

Max grinned, shaking his head in amusement. "Alright, a few plants I can handle. Just no turning my place into a botanical garden."

I gave him a teasing look. "You never know, a few well-placed ferns could really spruce the place up. Besides, they say talking to plants helps them grow. Maybe it’ll work wonders for you too."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. "Are you implying I need help growing? Because I’m pretty sure I’ve hit my growth spurt."

I laughed, feeling more at ease with each playful exchange. "No, just that a little greenery might make this place feel more like home. Plus, it could give you someone to talk to when you’re not racing around the world."

"Well, if you’re around, I’ll have plenty of company," he said with a wink. "And maybe you can teach me how to take care of them without killing them."

"I’d be happy to," I replied, smiling. "But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to choose some low-maintenance plants. Wouldn’t want you to feel overwhelmed."

"Thanks," he said, his tone sincere. "I appreciate that. But seriously, it’ll be nice to have you help me make this place feel more like home."

"Anytime," I said, feeling a warm glow from his words. "Just promise you won’t get any bright ideas about adding a racecar in the living room."

Max chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "No promises. But I’ll try to restrain myself."

He glanced at my luggage and then back at me. "Let me help you with those," he offered, moving towards the pink suitcases. "I’ll take them to the guest room."

As he picked up the bags, I couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he handled them. The way his muscles flexed under his shirt made my heart race. It was impossible to ignore how strong and capable he looked, making even the heavy suitcases seem weightless. Every movement seemed to highlight his athletic build, and I found myself momentarily distracted by the sheer physicality of him.

He had insisted on me staying at his apartment for the seven days I was in town, refusing to let me book a hotel. "You’ll be more comfortable here," he had said on our phone call earlier, his tone leaving no room for argument. It was sweet, really, and incredibly sexy watching him take charge like this. The thoughtfulness behind his actions made me feel special and cared for in a way that I hadn’t experienced before.

As he carried my luggage, I couldn't help but admire the ease with which he moved, the definition in his arms and shoulders evident with each step.

I followed him down the hallway, my eyes shamelessly glued to his back, watching the way his muscles shifted beneath his shirt. Each step he took seemed to exude confidence and strength, a silent testament to his physical prowess. I couldn't help but admire how the fabric of his shirt clung to his form, accentuating every line and curve of his well-toned physique.

God, I could talk about his slutty little waist for days. The little fancams they showed on F1TV or YouTube did not do it justice. Seeing him in person, the way his waist tapered into those perfectly fitted jeans, was a whole different experience. It was mesmerizing, almost unfair how well his physique was sculpted.

As he walked ahead of me, the fabric of his shirt stretched taut across his back and narrowed at his waist, highlighting the lean, athletic build that had become a defining part of who he was. It was the kind of detail that fans like me only dreamed about, and here I was, witnessing it up close.

I was such a lucky little bitch.

My mind wandered to the countless hours he must have spent training, not just in the gym but on the track as well. It was a different kind of dedication, one that went beyond what most people understood. There was something undeniably attractive about a person who was so committed to their craft, and it only added to the allure that Max already possessed.

As he led me into the guest room, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was Max Verstappen's personal space, a glimpse into the life of someone I had admired from afar. The room was spacious and inviting, with large windows that allowed natural light to flood in, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere.

Max set my bags down gently and turned to face me, his expression softening. "There you go," he said with a warm smile. "If you need anything, just let me know. Make yourself at home."

"Thanks, Max," I replied, giving him a grateful smile. "I really appreciate this."

Just as I was about to say more, Max’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the screen and frowned slightly. "Sorry, I have to take this," he said, holding up the phone. "It’s important."

"Of course, no problem," I said, waving him off. "Take your time."

Max nodded and stepped out of the room, his voice already lowered as he answered the call. Left alone, I took a moment to absorb my surroundings. The bed looked incredibly inviting with its crisp, clean sheets and plush pillows. The journey had been long, and I could feel the fatigue weighing heavily on me.

Without much thought, I kicked off my shoes and sank onto the bed, the mattress soft and supportive beneath me. The room had a calming aura, and despite my excitement, my eyelids grew heavy. I lay back, letting out a contented sigh as I nestled into the pillows.

The last thing I remembered was the distant murmur of Max's voice from the hallway. The day's exhaustion finally caught up with me, and within moments, I drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep, completely at ease in the unfamiliar yet comforting space.

જ⁀➴✎ ❛❛Max's POV❞

I couldn’t wait to see her cute face after my phone call.

Ever since she showed up at my door an hour ago, luggage in hand and blushing like mad, I knew I wanted to hold her in my arms and never let go. The way she looked so overwhelmed and charmingly nervous had struck a chord with me. But now, here I was, stuck listening to Lando Norris ramble about his trivial girl troubles when all I wanted was to see her again.

Lando’s voice was like a buzzing fly in my ear, and I found myself tapping my foot impatiently, wishing he'd get the hint and stop talking. His high-pitched voice grated on my nerves as he continued his endless rant about the latest drama in his life. I loved the guy, but seriously, this was not the moment for his soap opera.

“—and you would not believe what she said to me next,” Lando’s voice droned on, each word feeling like a needle in my brain. I barely registered his complaints, lost in my own thoughts about her.

“Max! Are you listening to me??” Lando’s voice suddenly pierced through the fog of my thoughts, making me flinch slightly.

“Mhm...” I trailed off, barely processing the words. My mind was focused entirely on her, on how she looked when she first arrived and how peaceful she appeared when I last saw her.

“Oh, what the bloody fuck mate, you’re not listening. Whatever, I'll talk to you later,” Lando said abruptly. Before I could respond, I heard the familiar click of the call ending.

“Hallelujah,” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes in relief. The endless chitter-chatter had finally stopped, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

“Oh, what the fuck,” I suddenly exclaimed, realizing that I had wasted enough time. I should be up and finding my houseguest—my possible future wifey—and spending more time with her. I shot up from my seat, a surge of excitement propelling me forward.

The house had been unusually quiet since I’d gotten off the call, and I was eager to see what she was up to. Maybe she was scrolling through her phone, or perhaps she was just getting comfortable. I tiptoed down the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb the calm atmosphere of the house.

As I approached the guest room, I could hear nothing but the soft hum of the air conditioning. My heart skipped a beat as I slowly opened the door, peeking inside to see what awaited me. The sight that met my eyes was unexpectedly delightful. There she was, nestled in the bed, having kicked off the fluffy house shoes I’d given her. Her luggage was neatly set aside, and the room was serene, illuminated by the gentle late afternoon light filtering through the curtains.

Her position on the bed was both endearing and surprisingly casual. She had managed to kick the blankets off completely, leaving them in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed. The sight of her sprawled out, so relaxed and at ease, made me pause. She looked incredibly peaceful, her hair spread out like a halo around her, and her cheeks were slightly flushed.

My beautiful girl was tired.

A soft smile crept onto my face as I approached her. It was clear that she was deeply asleep, her breathing even and steady. I carefully grabbed the blanket from the end of the bed, making sure not to disturb her. The blanket was warm and soft, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room.

In her sleep, she shifted slightly, letting out little breaths.

As I gently draped it over her, I couldn’t help but notice how cute she looked in this vulnerable state.

The way her lips were slightly parted and her eyes were closed made her seem even more endearing. She had a certain tranquility about her that was utterly captivating. It was a rare and precious sight, and I felt a surge of affection just watching her. Her presence in my apartment, in my space, felt strangely comforting and intimate.

I adjusted the blanket carefully, ensuring it covered her snugly. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, which made me breathe a sigh of relief I didn't realize that I had been holding. I took a moment to appreciate how serene and beautiful she looked. The gentle rise and fall of her chest as she slept was calming to observe, and it made me feel even more connected to her.

I lingered in the doorway for a few seconds, letting the peaceful scene sink in.

In that moment, I really wanted to be her boyfriend. Even though I had just met her in real life a mere forty minutes ago, I wanted to give her everything that she wanted and deserved.

I imagined us spending more time together, exploring new places, and sharing our dreams and fears. I wanted to be the person who made her feel special and loved, who supported her in all her endeavors and celebrated her successes. The thought of being that person for her was more appealing than I’d ever expected.

It wasn’t just about the romantic gestures or grand declarations; it was about the everyday moments of care and attention. I wanted to be there for her in the small, meaningful ways—like making sure she was comfortable, listening to her stories, and sharing in her joys and struggles.

Don't call me naive, but I really, really, really like her.

જ⁀➴✎ ❛❛Y/N's POV❞

In my dreamless state, I could still remember a few things. Like the warm breath of someone hovering over me. I could feel watchful eyes on my back, curious, worried, then relieved. I remember feeling gentle hands pulling my blanket from the foot of the bed to my shoulders, gently covering me.

And when I woke up, I really questioned whether what I felt was a dream. In my room it was silent, almost no trace of whether someone was there or not.

The only anomaly was the fact that before, I had completely shut the door. Now, the door was left ajar, a tiny sliver of the hallway could be seen from where I was propped up in my bed.

Yawning, I could hear the soft hum of the ongoing AC in my room. But if I listened a bit more, I could hear the whirring of the range hood in Max's kitchen further down the hall.

He was cooking?

Wow. Call me surprised.

A few days ago when we called on Discord, he had narrated a few cooking horror stories that had happened to him.

I remembered one particularly gruesome story he shared, one that sounded like it came straight out of a sitcom. It was supposed to be a simple pasta dinner. Max had invited a few friends over, and in his eagerness to impress them with his culinary skills, he decided to make everything from scratch.

(I know, I know, he told me he wanted to have his little Nara Smith moment...I'll give it to him, I guess)

It started with the sauce. He had carefully selected ripe tomatoes and fresh herbs, determined to make the best marinara his friends had ever tasted. But things quickly went downhill. First, he accidentally doubled the amount of garlic. Not a huge issue, right? Just a little more flavor. But then, in his attempt to balance it out, he added way too much salt. Desperate to fix it, he threw in some sugar, which somehow made it even worse.

Next came the pasta. Max had repeatedly watched one Nara Smith video of her making fresh pasta and he figured it couldn’t be that hard.

News flash, incorrect answer buzzer.

He miscalculated the flour-to-egg ratio, resulting in a sticky, unmanageable dough. By the time he managed to roll it out, the dough was uneven and tearing. When he finally got it into the pot, it clumped together into a gooey mess.

Meanwhile, the kitchen was descending into chaos. The range hood was whirring at full blast, struggling to keep up with the smoke billowing from the pan. In his panic, Max forgot to turn the stove down, and the sauce began to boil over, spilling onto the burner and creating a scorched, acrid smell that filled the entire apartment.

Then came the final straw. Max decided to make garlic bread as a last-minute addition. He put it in the oven and got so distracted by the pasta disaster that he forgot about it entirely. By the time he remembered, the bread was more akin to charcoal, emitting a foul, burnt odor that overpowered even the smell of the burnt sauce.

His friends (He told me it was Lando, Daniel, and Carlos) arrived just in time to witness the aftermath. The kitchen was a war zone, with sauce splattered everywhere, clumps of dough sticking to various surfaces, and smoke lingering in the air. The range hood was doing its best, but it was no match for the chaos Max had created.

His friends tried to be polite (Well maybe Daniel and Carlos did but Lando certainly was not), but the horrified expressions on their faces said it all.

Max ended up ordering pizza, and the story became an infamous legend among his friends. They still teased him about it, making jokes about his "gourmet" cooking skills whenever they had the chance.

It was quite a funny story, as Max had vlogged the whole thing, originally wanting to use the video footage as evidence that he could actually cook.

That's fucking hilarious, if you ask me.

When he showed the video footage, I was quite literally cracking up. I swear I had never laughed as hard as I did in my life when he showed me it.

Remembering that story now, I couldn’t help but smile. The fact that he was back in the kitchen, despite that disastrous experience, said a lot about his determination.

And maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. I decided to get up and see for myself what he was up to, hoping that I wouldn't walk into another kitchen catastrophe.

On that account, I found myself to be, again, very much wrong.

It smelled funny in the kitchen.

There was a peculiar mix of something burnt and something…well, unidentifiable. As I approached, the smell intensified, and I began to worry. I rounded the corner to find Max standing over the stove, looking flustered. Smoke billowed up from the pan, and the range hood was struggling to keep up.

"Max, what on God's green earth are you doing?" I asked, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice. I was also, clearly failing at that too, as a hitch in my voice gave away what I was truly feeling.

Dear reader, I was about to burst into a torrential fit of laughter.

He glanced up, his face a mix of sheepishness and determination. "I was trying to make fried rice with beef and onions, but...uh, things aren't going as planned."

I raised an eyebrow. "Clearly. What happened?"

He sighed, waving a hand at the pan. "Well, first, I realized there wasn't much food in the fridge to begin with. I found some rice, a bit of beef, and an onion. Seemed like enough for a simple dish, right? But then the beef started to stick to the pan, so I added more oil, which made the onions cook too fast and burn. And now the rice is clumping together and sticking to everything."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Max, you are a disaster in the kitchen. This is even worse than the pasta incident."

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know, I know. But I wanted to impress you. Clearly, I'm failing miserably."

I walked over and peered into the pan. The beef was charred in some spots and raw in others, the onions were practically disintegrated, and the rice looked like a sticky, burnt mess. "Impressive isn't exactly the word I'd use," I teased.

He grinned, despite the chaos. "Hey, at least I'm trying, right? That's got to count for something."

I shook my head, laughing. "It counts for effort, sure. But maybe you should stick to ordering takeout."

He gave me a mock serious look. "Or, you could teach me. You're the one with the design ideas. Maybe you have some cooking tips too?"

I pretended to think about it. "Hmm, I suppose I could. But only if you promise to listen and not improvise."

Max chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. "I promise. No more kitchen disasters."

I smiled, feeling a warm rush of affection. "Alright, let's see what we can salvage here. First things first, let's get rid of this burnt mess."

As we started cleaning up, Max kept sneaking glances at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know, I didn't just burn the food on purpose to get you to come out here and help me, but it's a nice bonus."

I rolled my eyes, playfully nudging him with my shoulder. "Nice try, Verstappen. But if you keep burning things, I might have to take over all the cooking."

"Deal," he said, his grin widening. "As long as you stay."

My heart skipped a beat at his words, and I couldn't help but smile. "You're lucky I'm a sucker for a cute guy who tries to cook."

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "And you're lucky I'm persistent. Now, let's make something edible before we both starve."

I glanced at the pitiful remains of our attempted fried rice. "Or," I suggested, "we could go to the grocery store and get some proper ingredients. Maybe start from scratch with something we can't mess up."

Max's eyes lit up with excitement. "A late-night grocery run? That sounds like a great idea. It's only 8 PM; we've got plenty of time."

I smiled, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of a spontaneous adventure. "Alright then, let's go. But first, let me change out of these pajamas."

Max grinned, leaning a little closer. "Deal. I'll clean up here while you get ready. But you know, you look pretty cute in those pajamas. Maybe we should make it a pajama party instead?"

I rolled my eyes playfully, feeling my cheeks warm. "Nice try, but I think I'll stick with something a bit more appropriate for public."

Max chuckled. "Alright, but don't keep me waiting too long. The sooner we get to the store, the sooner we can start our culinary masterpiece."

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh, now it's a culinary masterpiece? You have high hopes, Mr. Verstappen."

He shrugged, flashing a charming smile. "What can I say? I'm an optimist. Plus, with you by my side, how could it be anything but perfect?"

I laughed, shaking my head as I headed to the guest room to change. "We'll see about that. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Max's voice followed me down the hall. "I'll be counting the seconds, chef."

After changing into something more appropriate—a pair of jeans and a cozy sweater—I met Max in the living room. He had cleaned up the kitchen mess and was now waiting by the door, car keys in hand.

At the door, I slipped on a pair of Birkenstocks, leaning on Max to stabilize myself. Feeling myself slipping all of a sudden, Max grabbed onto my waist and steadied me up. His grip was firm, and I could feel the warmth of his hand through my shirt, sending a little shiver down my spine.

"Careful there," he teased, his voice low and close to my ear. "Wouldn't want you to fall for me… again."

I glanced up at him, catching the mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, I don't know, Max. It seems like you're getting pretty good at catching me."

He smirked, his hand still resting on my waist, holding me just a little closer than necessary. "Well, practice makes perfect, right?"

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, the playful tension between us impossible to ignore. "You might need a few more tries, though. I’m a bit of a klutz."

He chuckled, his thumb brushing lightly against my side. "Lucky for you, I’ve got all the time in the world." My heart was quite literally beating out of my chest and the sexual tension was getting to me. Noticing my beet red face, Max continued.

"Ready to go?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Ready," I replied, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves. (And still giggly from the whole previous ordeal)

Max held the door open for me with a dramatic flourish. "After you, my lady," he said with a mock bow.

I laughed, rolling my eyes playfully. "Such a gentleman. You really know how to impress a girl."

As we headed down to the underground garage, Max couldn't resist a bit more teasing. "So, do you have a grocery list, or are we winging it?"

"I think we should wing it," I said, grinning. "Who knows, maybe we'll discover some hidden culinary talents."

"Or set off the smoke alarm again," Max added, smirking.

I nudged him with my elbow. "Hey, I'm a decent cook. I promise I won't let you burn anything."

"Good to know," he replied, his smile widening as we reached his Aston Martin Vantage.

The sleek car gleamed under the garage lights, and I couldn't help but admire it. "Nice ride," I said, running a hand over the smooth surface.

"Thanks," Max said, a hint of pride in his voice. "I figured it would make a good impression."

"You figured right," I said with a wink.

As we pulled out onto the street, the city lights cast a warm glow over everything. The drive through the city was peaceful, the streets mostly empty at this hour. We chatted casually, the conversation flowing easily as we navigated through the urban maze. Max seemed to know the city well, effortlessly weaving through the streets as we made our way to the nearest grocery store.

As we drove through the city, the conversation continued to flow easily. "So, what kind of snacks are we getting?" Max asked, glancing over at me.

"Definitely some chocolate," I replied. "Maybe some chips too. What about you?"

"I was thinking ice cream," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know, for dessert after our gourmet fried rice."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You and your sweet tooth. Fine, we'll get ice cream. But only if you promise not to eat it all in one sitting."

"Deal," Max said, grinning. "I promise to save some for you."

"Max I've seen you devour so much food in one sitting, are you sure you are keeping that promise?" I roll my eyes in mock frustration.

He smirked, glancing over at me. "What can I say? I'm a growing boy."

"Growing boy, huh?" I teased. "Last time I checked, you were already fully grown."

"Just because I'm tall and handsome doesn't mean I can't still grow," he shot back, winking.

I snorted. "Tall and humble, too. Such a rare combination."

"Only for you," he said, placing a hand dramatically on his chest. "I reserve my best qualities for special occasions."

"Well, aren't I lucky?" I said with a laugh. "I guess I'll have to make sure to keep you around for more grocery runs."

"Hey, I'll take any excuse to spend time with you," he replied smoothly. "Even if it means resisting the urge to eat all the ice cream."

I pretended to ponder his words. "Hmm, maybe I should test your willpower. Get a couple of pints and see how long they last."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you challenging me?"

"Maybe I am," I said, grinning. "Think you can handle it?"

"Oh, I can handle it," Max said confidently. "But can you handle me winning?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "We'll see about that. Just don't cry when I catch you sneaking spoonful's in the middle of the night."

"You're on," he said, eyes twinkling with amusement. "But be warned, I play to win."

The hum of the Aston Martin's engine was a soothing backdrop to our conversation. The car's interior was luxurious, with plush leather seats and a state-of-the-art dashboard. I couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement as we sped through the city, the lights blurring past us in a kaleidoscope of colors.

"So, do you do this often?" I asked, glancing over at Max.

"Late-night grocery runs?" he replied with a grin. "Not really, but I'm always up for an adventure."

I laughed, feeling a sense of camaraderie growing between us. "Well, I think this might be the most exciting grocery run I've ever been on."

Max chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Just wait until we get there. I might even let you pick out some snacks."

"Now you're talking," I said, grinning. "I will never not indulge in big back activities," The prospect of picking out snacks together felt oddly intimate, a small but meaningful step in getting to know each other better.

"Hey! You can definitely tell a lot about a person based on their favorite snacks. People who simply like spicy shrimp crackers are superior!"

Max raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his gaze. "Spicy shrimp crackers? That’s a bold choice. I guess we'll see if our snack preferences align."

"They better," I said, rolling my eyes in mock annoyance. With that, we stepped outside, the crisp air greeting us as we made our way to the grocery store. The city buzzed around us, but all I could focus on was the warmth of his presence beside me and the anticipation of what was quickly becoming an unexpectedly perfect day.

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yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 278,121 others

yourusername: what in the #domesticlife...#breadbedandbred

view comments:

maxverstappen1: This is a VERY misleading caption, Y/N

maxverstappen1: Nice post, though (please change the caption)

maxverstappen1: Christian also said that the caption is "sussy as hell"... whatever that means

user1: BYEEEE christian "horny" horner strikes again 🤕

user2: ain't nothing SOFT about this LAUNCH y/n 😖😖🤯🫣

yourusername: 🫣🫣🫣

user3: not her casually serving in a groccery store at night, i aspire to be second-slide-y/n

user4: DAMNNNNN IM SLEEPING ON THE HIGHWAY TNNNN GUYS 😐🤧

user5: AYO MAX

user5: hand placement.... you better WATCH yourself

user6: guys i need this so bad, accepting bf applications RIGHT NOW

user7: dude.... Dude.... DUDEEEEE

user8: his gorilla ass grip on the hook of her jean hook im ILL guys I'M SO ILL 🤕🤕

user9: u r so right queen, it's giving #domestic #hubbyandbubby #narasmithlife #walkhimlikeadog

yourusername: i like #walkhimlikeadog 🤯

maxverstappen1: I like #hughimlikeacat better 😌

yourusername: 🐶🐶🐶 ARF MAX

maxverstappen1: You are very VERY weird, Y/N 🤣🤣🤣😂😅

yourusername: ARF ARF ARFFFFF 🐕🐕🐩

user10: we got #walkhimlikeadog daughter versus #hughimlikeacat son before gta 6 😈😈😈🥲

landonorris: Damn, Max, get a grip, you are getting SOFT my boy 😹😹😹

maxverstappen1: Not funny, Lando

yourusername: 😹😹😹

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taglist: @hiireadstuff @sinofwriting @mehrmonga @the-untamed-soul @glai1023-blog @loloekie @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @sheastri @llando4norris @gwginnyweasley @carmenita122 @ririyulife @pausmoon @ur-fav-ave @eveninggstar @maddie-naps @erin-odonnell04 @rexit-mo @ems-alexandra @si1ver06 @iamred-iamyellow @bibissparkles @percypie @formula1blog @lanadelray1989 @rylieverstappen-sargent @luvsforme @eiaaasamantha @kaysmiles42 @mvaldez7821 @stinkyjax @sweate-r-weathe-r @laneyspaulding19 @mingyusbigrighttoe @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @stinkyjax @fandomz-queenie @theblueblub @mayusaatma @lanadelrey @formula1-motogpfan

some of these didn't get tagged, and i'm having trouble (?) it's being very weird, idk, so please let me know if your name is here and it didn't tag you ❣️

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author's note: ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾

[youn9racha]

ASMR

genre: smut—headcanon

words: 740

warning: auralism, mentions of voice kink, roleplay, s/d dynamics, potential hard kinks, masturbation, switch!felix, handjobs, mentions of daddy/sir/master kink, pornography plays a big role in this headcanon.

a/n: finally,,, i've been meaning to make one of felix a long time ago (i'm talking since before my undisclosed hiatus has taken over) but i just kept on procrastinating, but here i am now, pushing myself, but i do hope this doesn't seem forced. if it did, well then... i'm sorry? ig, but thats neither here or there. i hope you all enjoy it, and feedback is greatly appreciated.

Click here for recommended asmrs:

chan — felix — hyunjin — han — i.n — changbin — lee know — seungmin

This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised.

When he is single:

Felix was definitely born to become an asmr artist, or however you want to call it. if it were up to him, he'd definitely consider it as an art form, acting even.

He definitely uses his deep voice and accent to his advantage in many scenarios.

He doesn't just strictly do nsfw work though, he also does the occasional sfw content. (but he definitely knows that his audience is fed by lust).

He uses multiple media, but he's mostly on youtube for the sfw content, and for the nsfw stuff he's mainly on the hub and reddit.

He also has patreon for tips and requests and uses twitter to release a teaser or maybe releases some hot audios just on the whim to drive his audience crazy.

He also does occasional live streams on twitch for gaming and also maybe "unintentionally" seduce other streamers and his fans with his velvety voice.

Initially he wants to remain anonymous, but, unlike bang chan, seeing how much of an income he gets, and considering how unique his voice is, he really doesn't feel ashamed of himself to show himself off. (he could argue that it garnered more attention)

however, he doesn't post himself very often, so as to not take away his audience's fantasies.

now onto the content he creates:

Felix, like bang chan, is a man of generosity and often does what he asks of his audience

however, he is mostly known for his "boyfriend" series both in the sfw and nsfw realms.

In his youtube channel, you would see his content being very wholesome, seeing titles like "baking cookies with your australian boyfriend", "cuddling with your boyfriend after a stressful day", "positive affirmation from me to you", and many more. just overall, wholesome and comforting content.

however, his reddit and pornhub account juxtapose with his youtube channel.

He is mostly known for his deep-voiced moans and groans that come along with these scenarios

You'll also see him roleplay as deep voice character, pretending to be them for the sake of his audience, even down to altering his accent for the sake of it

just picture him cosplaying as ghost from call of duty... yeah, i'm going mental

Anyhow, he is also known for his words on these asmrs, regardless if he's aiming to be the dom, the sub, or the switch in these scenarios.

"oh, yes, who's a good girl for me?"

"oh, fuck, that pussy is tight for me~"

"yes, stroke that cock for daddy... just... like... that...mmh~"

"may i come for you? please, i-i've been such a good boy-ah!~"

Felix is known to have the most beautiful voice while getting pleasured, regardless of his position.

Despite having a deep voice, he is known to have many range, can create the most adorable sounds anyone could hear.

"please, baby... please let me come in you? i want to feel all of you...hmm~"

he truly could make anyone swoon with those adorable whimper.

He uses his hands and a fleshlight mostly, but does utilize lube and edits his audios to accentuate the wet sounds and to create ambience.

When he's in a relationship:

When you met Felix, you instantly knew what he does, but you never really ventured off into the nsfw content.

He had an amazing voice, just like those content he makes on youtube, he truly can match up with real life, almost making it seem like you were getting the full package.

however, when you found his nsfw account, you couldn't help but let your curiosity get the best of you and listen to them.

To say you were turned on would be an understatement.

Felix never really tried to hide that side of him, but it was just a matter of "i'll address it when it is mentioned" type of thing, and, although he was taken aback at first when you confronted him about it, he really didn't feel ashamed when you confronted him once he realizes that you enjoyed them.

You never really encouraged him to stop, and Felix never intended on stopping anytime soon, unlike chan.

You cheered him on, and often gave him ideas for certain scenarios.

He would from time to time uses you in his audios for the sake of "ambience" and lets your quiet moans melt through the audio, which surprisingly garnered positive reception.

So he proceeded with this endeavor and is in no way slowing down.

©︎ youn9racha— do not translate or repost in other medias.

[presidenthades]

⚠️Spoilers for S.2 ep.2, kinda❓

DAERON EXISTS, LIFE MAKES SENSE AGAIN!

Anyhow, your thoughts on the new episode🎤???

Oh, and in celebration of show!Daeron's confirmed existence: mini tiny Joffron doodle ig? Made with love, not with skill☝️💚🖤❤️

Wait omigod I love this. Why does it perfectly encapsulate the two of them. 😭😍🥰 They really do have a reverse Hades/Persephone dynamic! Honestly I love this art style, it’s giving a chibi vibe that I adore. I’m going to link this to my HOTD artwork list.

Anyway yes, Daeron truthers rise up. ✊

(Obviously, S2E2 spoilers below the cut.)

First I’ll start with new thoughts on B&C. After my rewatch, most of my feelings about E1 remained the same, but I want to update my reaction to B&C. Helaena’s muted reaction made more sense to me the second time around. It is consistent with her character, and the BTS info about her visions makes it understandable why she seemed to treat Jaehaerys’s death as inevitable.

HOWEVER. Viewers should not be required to watch BTS commentaries etc. to have full context for the scene. The background info about Helaena’s visions should’ve been in the actual episode. If knowing about Helaena’s visions about her children’s potential demise is that important, they could and should have incorporated it I nto an actual scene. For example, instead of her opening scene being her embroidering, she could’ve been scribbling about that vision in her notebook.

If for some reason this was too difficult to film, there’s one small change they could’ve made to B&C which would’ve made a huge difference, visions or no visions. When Blood says both children “look the same,” Cheese could have responded with “just kill them both.” This instantly heightens the stakes and makes Helaena’s actions more understandable to even the most casual viewer: if she doesn’t point out Jaehaerys, then both her children die.

End of E1 rant. Onto E2 rant!

I’ve seen a lot of different reactions to this episode. Some say it was great, some say it was awful. IMO, your takeaway of how good the episode was probably depends on who your favorite characters are.

I think Rhaenyra and Aegon had the best scenes this episode. Otto also had some banger lines, and Helaena made me feel a lot of emotions. Daemon did not come away particularly well, Aemond was a little weird, Alicent continues to be frustrating, and I’m convinced that Criston is the writing room’s whipping boy.

TGC really got to show off his acting chops this episode. Personally I wish they could’ve spent more time on Aegon smashing the LEGOs and bludgeoning Blood, but that is a me preference. I think Aegon really did love Jaehaerys, AND he is angry about the blow that has been struck again him as king. Both these things can be true at the same time. The end scene where he’s crying alone in his room proves that his grief isn’t just a show.

And I don’t mind that Aegon’s decision to hang all the rat-catchers makes him seem violent and impetuous, because he is violent and impetuous. The scene is also framed so that you understand why Aegon did it; we see Cheese hanging with the others. And let’s be honest, if Rhaenyra did something similar to avenge Luke (eg burn down Storm’s End because Borros contributed to his demise, which would kill a lot of other people too), a lot of viewers would cheer her on.

(I was definitely thinking during the “Aegon fires Otto” scene that Aegon could really use a Jacaera to kindly knock some sense into him. 🥲)

Speaking of the end scene…omigod Alicent why. 💀 Conceptually, I understand there’s generational trauma going on. Otto was cold with Alicent, who is in turn cold with Aegon especially. But like. Holy shit. Give your son a 5-second hug. It would’ve been nice if they could at least show Alicent feeling conflicted, like she wants to comfort her son but feels incapable, so she walks away.

Backtracking a bit: I feel like Alicent is consistently made the focus of the story in places where she arguably should not be the focus, and I wonder if this is because the showrunners want to take advantage of the fact they’ve paid good money for Olivia Cooke. But I truly do not understand why it was Helaena and Alicent at the funeral rather than Helaena and Aegon. Otto said something about “our gentlest souls” but this could’ve been a great opportunity to showcase more of Aegon and Helaena’s complicated relationship and shared grief.

Whatever my other feelings on the scene, I do think Phia and Olivia’s acting was phenomenal. Helaena’s panic attack during the funeral 😱. I really just wanted to emergency evacuate her from that mess.

I’m going out of chronological order, but I’m going to backtrack again to Otto making the decision to have the funeral as a PR campaign. It’s very Machiavellian, and TBH I understand why he chose to do it. It is a huge blow against Rhaenyra’s reputation. But I feel like the show wants Otto and Daemon to be the only actual schemers on their respective sides. Everyone else kinda just whoopsies or white-knights their way through the narrative. I just want to shake the writers and tell them it’s okay for other characters to be villainous. There’s a reason Daemon is way more popular than Criston. At least Daemon fully commits to his bad decisions.

I kinda feel bad for Fabien Frankel because the writers seem to really have it out for Criston. They really want to make him the most hatable character. 💀 Imagine if instead we got a more Machiavellian Criston who intentionally decides to claw his way up from nothing to become one of the most powerful people in Westeros. Even if he does reprehensible things along the way, at least he does them purposefully, not because he’s incompetent.

I almost forgot to talk about Aemond, because he really has not been getting a lot of screen time these two episodes. The brothel scene was odd but not as odd as it could have been. I wish the writers would stop having his personality revolve around Daemon, but it’s probably their way of building up to God’s Eye. Honestly, I would’ve preferred a scene of Aemond with his family dealing with B&C aftermath rather than fucking off to the brothel.

Now, changing topics to the Rhaenyra and Daemon divorce scene. I think viewers’ reactions to this scene depend a lot on whether or not you’re a Daemon fan. He really comes off not great in the entire sequence from when Rhaenyra learns about B&C to when Daemon leaves. Also, it’s very obvious Sara Hess wrote the scene; she’s been vocal about how she dislikes Daemon, and a lot of what Rhaenyra says seems to be opinions that Sara has shared. I think Rhaenyra was right to call out Daemon for B&C and for lying to her face about it.

It may have been better if they had more buildup showing cracks between Daemon and Rhaenyra, because she’s also calling him out for a lot of stuff besides B&C. There was the S1E10 argument and choking scene, but some more interaction in S2E1 or E2 where they’re at odds would have made it fresher in viewers’ memories. But it’s not necessary, and I think the scene works as is.

Despite viewers’ feelings on this scenes, it was VERY well acted by both Emma and Matt. And it leads to Rhaenyra’s interesting interaction with Baela. Rhaenyra refuses to risk Jace and send him out on patrol near KL, but she tells Baela to do the exact same thing. It’s very subtle, and the scene is framed as a positive thing between the two characters, but this is probably the most morally gray decision Rhaenyra makes in this episode. She won’t risk her child, but she will risk Daemon’s child immediately after they fought.

The Mysaria scenes were interesting. I really don’t mind the show’s efforts to whitewash her. She’s horrible in the book, but show!Mysaria is actually sympathetic for the most part. She worked her way up from nothing but the people in charge of the system keep stomping her back down. I think her dialogue about Daemon/Otto/powerful men was heavy-handed foreshadowing that she’s going to end up serving Rhaenyra, who is notably not a man.

I don’t have a lot of groundbreaking comments about Erryk & Arryk. It was very emotionally impactful…and I wish the episode had ended either with them dying, or with the scene where Aegon is crying by himself, rather than ANOTHER Alicole sex scene. 💀

Overall, this episode had its highlights, and acting is phenomenal as always. But the writers really need to figure out what to do with Alicent and Criston, other than have the fuck all the time.

[rexscanonwife]

First Impressions

The galaxy was in pure chaos. She wasn't one to shy away from a bit of chaos now and then. In fact, some would say she was something of an expert back in her padawan days! This was different, however. Ever since The Battle of Geonosis, everyone from the outer rim to the heart of Coruscant was in a tizzy to say the least. Drawing lines, choosing sides, making plans, and in the middle of it were the Jedi. Once they were the galaxy's humble peacekeepers, now they were expected to fight this war for the citizens they had sworn to protect.

A/N: I suddenly got in the mood to write a little something about the day Kepler was assigned as Brea's padawan because I don't think I've talked very much about how everything started! No warnings for this one, just a short drabble and some dialogue to sort of establish their relationship dynamic at the beginning to set the stage. Maybe I'll add onto it and include their first mission, maybe not, but for now here it is! (Divider cred. @/cafekitsune)

Brea’s foot tapped anxiously against the spotless floor of the temple as she wrote out the report on her last mission, her boots leaving slight scuffs on the pristine marble in the process. She'd developed the nervous habit over time after suddenly finding herself in the position of Commander, less than a week after becoming a Jedi Knight to begin with.

She had no battalion to command. When she was deployed on missions, it was usually either as backup for a Jedi General who'd gotten in a bit over their heads as they attempted to push back Separatist droids with their clones, or she went out solo. Using her skills to scout out potential threats, in which case she was solely responsible for the outcome of such missions…and for all the paperwork. Her least favorite part of the job.

Getting shot at by droves of nasally-voiced droids was somehow preferable to this. Her eyes strained against the walls of text on the datapad before her, a headache beginning to form from blue light exposure. Her focus started to wane as she wondered how a droid could have a nasally voice anyhow? What kind of person would program them with that particular kind of voice box? Was their intention to annoy the Grand Army of the Republic to death?

“Speak with you, may I, Young Callisto?” An unmistakable voice and speech pattern shook her out of her thoughts.

“Oh, Master Yoda! How can I help you?” She said, lowering her datapad to reveal the short, green Jedi before her.

He was not alone, however. A young boy stood awkwardly just a few inches behind him. His small frame was emphasized by his posture, shoulders slightly hunched as he looked nervously between her and the back of Yoda's head. Though his robes were disheveled and seemed to be just a bit too big for him and his signature braid was done rather sloppily, he was obviously a padawan. Seemed the right age, probably between 12 and 13 years old. He wore thick goggles that obscured most of his face, but behind them his brow was furrowed, and he had slight wrinkles under his eyes that he was definitely too young for.

She didn't have to use the Force to know that this was a kid who didn't want to be here. That begged the question, why was he? She looked back towards Yoda for answers.

His large ears twitched as he leaned against his cane, always taking such a long time to say what he was going to say. She tried to remind herself that she was in the presence of someone much older and wiser than her and to not get impatient.

“Young Callisto, a very important task for you, I have. As you know, spread thin across the galaxy are the Jedi. Yes. Very thin.” He started pacing slowly, his cane tapping against the floor as he did so. “As many hands as possible, we will need to win this war.”

Finally, he gestured to the boy. “Introduce yourself, young one.”

He seemed unprepared, as he suddenly snapped upright and his hands fumbled to clumsily grip at his robes. “O-oh, me do it? Ok, uhm…my name is Kepler Quinn, Master Jedi!” He punctuated this with a quick and shallow bow, more akin to a nod than anything else. His small voice had an extremely distinct squeak to it, as though it couldn't decide whether the pitch wanted to settle up or down.

“Well, it's uh, nice to meet you, Kepler!” She smiled invitingly to try and set him more at ease, “Heh, so polite. Thank you, but I'm not a Master.” wait…

Brea began to piece together just what Yoda was suggesting and was stunned into silence for the briefest of moments. Not long ago, Anakin had told her about how a padawan was suddenly sprung onto him without so much as a warning, and in the middle of a battle no less. Sure, she had thought about perhaps someday in the future taking on a padawan learner herself, but she always thought it would be a long time from now and that it would be her own choice. And with the war going on, she just didn't have the time.

“Master Yoda, I- I- don't know…how good of an idea this is. I mean, I've only been a Knight for how long?” She stammered, not wanting to sound like she was just outright rejecting the kid when he was standing within earshot. “Do you really want me to be a master?”

Yoda hummed thoughtfully, stroking his chin “a strange and unusual time this is for us all, Young Callisto. Do things the way we have in the past, we cannot. Learn to adapt, we must. And learn from you this youngling will!” He pointed at her with his cane for emphasis.

“In need of help, General Skywalker and his men are. You and Young Quinn will go to the front lines and assist them. Yes, that is your task.”

Brea perked up just a bit upon hearing this. Ever since seeing Anakin on Geonosis what seemed like only yesterday, the two were as thick as they had been as younglings, but with how the war was going they hardly had any time to spend together. They usually ended up posted in totally separate star systems and always seemed to be running off to a new mission. This would be a good opportunity to catch up with him, once she was done saving his butt, of course.

She breathed in deeply through her nose, and out through her mouth, resting her free hand on her hip. This was classic Yoda. He wasn't allowing her a lot of time to consider it, if Anakin needed her help, then she would never be the one to keep him waiting. “Well, Kep. What do you say?”

“I guess I don't really have a choice, so…” He replied with a hint of bitterness, his eyes not meeting her gaze. This gave her a bit of pause.

“Hmm, decided then, it is.” Yoda glanced up at her knowingly. She hated when he did that, like he had some sort of trick up his sleeve in order to teach her a lesson. “If unsure you still are when you return, another master we will find for the youngling. There is no time to waste. Leave immediately, you must!”

“Yes, Master Yoda.” Brea said in unison with the boy, as they watched the ancient one shuffle down the temple hall and out of sight. There really was no arguing with him in the end, and at least for now, it seemed Brea had a padawan of her own.

—--------------------------

That was how she found herself where she was now. Her ship was roomy enough to comfortably house two people, but she had been so used to riding alone that she couldn't help but feel a sort of…weight in the Force around them. She sat arms crossed in the pilot's seat and watched the lines of blue and white light streak past through the cockpit window. There were few places as good to strike up conversation in than hyperspace.

She looked over at Kepler, who sat stiffly and silently in the co-pilot's seat, as though he was afraid to move even a muscle for some reason.

“So, this is your first time off-world, isn't it? it's exciting, huh?”

“I dunno. I feel more nauseous than anything.”

“Eh, that's normal! It'll go away after a while.” She said with a wave of her hand, a deceptively blasé gesture to hide the fact that she was actually floundering just a bit. She'd been trying to break the ice between them for a little while now, but had only managed to get similarly dry responses from him thus far. She was normally so good with younglings. When she visited the initiates when they had a break from their studies to play in the courtyards, they had lots of fun. But this one was so different. Most children raised in the Jedi Temple never see anything else until they reach padawanship, the little guy should be ecstatic right now!

But she wasn't sensing any sort of joy from him right now. Not a hint of excitement. He sat disgruntled and the slightest bit on edge like he was waiting for something terrible to happen at any moment.

“I hope you're not worried about it being your first mission, too. I promise, it won't be that ba-”

“You don't have to keep trying to talk to me, you know.” He said suddenly, cutting off her train of thought.

She quirked an eyebrow, eyeing him from the side as she idly flipped a switch here and there on the control panel to keep the hyperspace jump running smoothly. “I want to talk to you. It seems like we're gonna be spending quite some time with each other from now on, right?”

“Sure. If you say so…” He said under his breath, but just loud enough that Brea heard it over the hum of the ship's engines.

If she says so? That was more than a little concerning to say the least.

“Well, did anyone say otherwise? Come on, we're in this together now.”

He stayed quiet, retreating into himself both physically and emotionally. That wasn't good, she needed to get him to elaborate more so she could finally figure this kid out. What would her Master have done if she needed her to open up to her…?

“Well, this reminds me of my first mission as a Padawan. My Master Yora Tos was a very powerful Jedi, and she had such a kind soul. But she was also such a chatterbox. There we were, it's my first time entering hyperspace, I'm trying to focus be amazed by it and she just would not stop yammering on and on and on and on and on-”

She heard him heave a rather large sigh. Bingo.

“Alright, I'm sorry, it's just…I don't have. A very good track record with this sort of thing.”

“What, with hyperspace?”

“No, with my Masters.”

Masters…plural? It wasn't necessarily unheard of for a padawan to be reassigned once in a while. Sometimes the matchup just didn't work out for one reason or another. It seemed like what was bothering him ran a little deeper than that, though.

“How many…Masters have you had?” She pried carefully, not wanting him to clam up again. She was worried she'd made a mistake by asking when he didn't reply right away, but after a few moments and another large sigh, he did.

“Three.”

She blinked. Three previous Masters? Ok, now that actually was a little bit unheard of. Now she was starting to understand him a little bit. She only ever had one, so maybe this wasn't a matter she could relate to personally, but she felt that she could at least try to sympathize with him.

“Jeez, that's rough, buddy. Why did you drop them? You didn't like em?”

He turned away from her, leaning against the arm of the seat and resting his chin on his hand. “I didn't. They dropped me. Because I'm, well… I'm not really cut out to be a Jedi.”

Her head swiveled towards him, “Hey, don't say that! I'm sure it's not true.”

“Well, I mean? I kinda tend to fall behind, someone is always having to wait for me to catch up. My saber technique needs work. I can barely move a pebble with the Force. And on top of that I'm always getting sick.” He emphasized this with a wet-sounding sniffle and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his robe. “I'm not exactly a star pupil.”

Brea exhaled through her nose as she pondered this. All of that stuff had always come so easily to her, she couldn't imagine how frustrating it must be to struggle so much with it.

“Well, everybody has stuff they're not so good with. It just takes time. And the right guidance! Who were your previous Masters anyway?”

“Well, there was Master Tiin, and Master Koth, and I guess most recently Master Windu.”

“Whew! Well I can hardly blame you, kid.” She said raucously, “That one definitely wasn't your fault.”

He tilted his head to the side as he turned towards her, suddenly seemingly interested for the first time since they met. “What do you mean?”

“Listen, Master Windu has always been bit of a hardass.” She began, leaning back in her chair. Surprisingly enough, this got what she thought was actually a snort out of him. It was almost laughter. Not quite, but close enough. “Ha, that's probably why he's on the Council now, so I doubt much has changed since I was a youngling. His standards are so high you couldn't reach them if you were at the highest point of Cloud City.”

“Yeah…” He turned away, his expression starting to fall again.

Shoot. She dared to reach over and tried to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch ever so slightly. She retreated a bit, but suddenly it seemed like a new resolve had settled in her mind. Somehow she wasn't convinced that this kid was the problem here.

“Listen…if becoming a Jedi was easy, then everyone would do it, right? If you're here then it means you have every right to be.”

He said nothing, merely humming a noncommittal reply in return before looking ahead through the cockpit window. Her eyes turned in the same direction. The star streaks that had been shooting past them at impossible speeds suddenly slowing until they stopped entirely and returned to their natural shape as points of light in the far distance. The whole ship shook slightly as they were finally dropped out of hyperspace.

Brea sighed and rolled her neck to pop her upper vertebrae before turning her attention to the control panel, switching the ship from autopilot to manual controls again.

“Alright. Let's get down there and save Skywalker's skin!” they began their descent and soon they would be breaking the atmosphere. “In my experience, hands-on learning is way more useful than anything you can learn from silly old books anyway!”

She glanced over at him and saw how his eyes widened as he watched the planet's surface slowly approach them. His lips pulled tightly in a sort of grimace as he was no doubt imagining what sort of scene awaited the both of them there. So, he was a bit nervous about his first mission. In an ideal world, it wouldn't have been under these circumstances, but at least one thing was clear to her. She wasn't gonna let anything happen to him.

“Remember, I got your back out there, kiddo.”

He swallowed harshly and turned, throwing her a thumbs up and some semblance of an awkward smile, revealing that he had a gap between his two front teeth. Something she hadn't noticed before now.

Fear response or not, this was the first smile she'd seen from him this entire time, and as she returned her focus to the ship's steering apparatus and prepared for landing, she smiled back.

[rin-and-jade]

Job Roulette.. or Not: A Post about Alter Roles

Roles like Hosts? Protectors?.. maybe a Cleaner? an Academic?.. why is there an alter who comes out only for driving?! What about these other alters who don't really do much--they got to have one right??

--Are probably what you might be thinking when this topic comes up. But, there's something more into it,, it's not all about what job or how the role is assigned to an alter only.

Well, for this post, lets talk EVERYTHING about how roles work, what kinds exist, why it's there?? And especially, why are some more task specific, multi-role, or even... none? Bowl straight to the point, let's roll out. Haha punny

Ok J, spill. What are they?

Hold on. Im pulling out this dictionary definition of it--ah!

"defined positions that are associated with given responsibilities and are usually allocated according to the position or ability of each person."

To put it in system terms, it's how different parts can do something that others couldn't, or, feel a sense of responsibility in one particular aspect. That's making sense right? But oh.. you still want to know why they're there at the first place. Fine, follow me!

Yeah, show me why!

As aforementioned, this disorder boxes up our different parts of selves with amnesia and weaker bonds of connection which really sets us back on easing our 'modes' for different situations.. not only that, a part's moods and state/personality can greatly affect what kinds of jobs they get, it's not so random as you'd thought.

So, thing is, because some alters have a distinguished ability capable in doing something, depending what fragment or pre-existing knowledge/experience it holds, that can become it's very own job task.

They can be hereditary (upon split or formed), gained (fuse or passed traits), or even learnt (by its own commitment, without any prior skills). Roles come from many origins, and none of them are so different.

But, some are more complex..

I get it, some can have more than one, have ultra specific ones, or literally just don't have any. Now it makes you think--if it was from predisposed strengths each alters naturally have, then why are some more niche? or like, anything else? I know why:

Our brains are complex alright. We both can think maybe we can do (even if we don't like it) and not do something, and these are all compartmentalized in each alters, so basically its part feelings, part acceptance of such trait, and part commitment as the formula. Even confidence or the call to action affects this outcome!

This can apply to who can handle more than one jobs, or for those who are more specific or lesser known roles. In fact, roles do not have any limits, they are specifically tailored for your functionality so don't fret if you have an alter who's job is only to sleep, or anything else 'silly' !

What about the ones without.. roles?

Do you think it feels wrong to not have roles? While it is true that roles are needed, they're not actually a required standard for everyone to have a job task. Mainly, ANP's are the one who usually have roles, but EP's can too.

If they do not have a role, they might be disinterested or think they don't have any potential, or sometimes they're only there to hold memories / don't have the qualified skill sets, and thats okay! You can take proactive action in anyhow you'd like, just remember, every parts aren't forced to contribute, you know? It doesn't make them useless, maybe more on passive support/back ups.

I've also seen some systems who don't really have roles because the alters are all well-rounded, as in pick up other's tasks and that they're not assigned/compelled to do a particular job at all times, like being flexible. everyone's different!

Make sense, anything else?

Well, that we are not bound to roles, they do not define us, and that we can lose, or change roles according to our growth. Have anyone ever mentioned that?

Im aware that we tend to put too much emphasis on having jobs and being contributive, but the most important thing to keep in mind is that we all in this together, and to help each other, in a way or another.

Never forget that you're more than your job! Maybe try to enjoy other parts of life, yeah?

--

Thats the end of the post. What will you do if you find a new alter with no impressions of having a role? How do you see roles in your own pov? What's the first thing you'd do if you were to be free from your job task, if any? Feel free to let me know, i hope this has been informative, im willing to add anything if something's missing!

- j

[koorinokujira]

Transformers thoughts that wouldn't leave me alone - Forgotten melodies of eld

I have a bit of a tendency to overthink my favorite media and make strange associations with other things, and Transformers is no different right now. Those robots are spinning in my head like leftover pasta in a microwave. Anyhow, last night I was thinking about Cybertronian music.

(Ramble incoming! Also I might get stuff wrong, I am still fairly new in the fandom, after all. So please, forgive my potential ignorance.)

Now, there usually isn't that much lore on it from what I've seen, which absolutely sucks and I need more. What I've also noticed is that there often seems to be more of a focus on the musical instruments (which I also definitely need more lore on), rather than vocals. And hoo boy do I have thoughts about that specificallly.

Cybertronians have voice boxes, right? And considering their mechanical anatomy, it's pretty safe to say that they can hold on for way longer than our vocal cords. After all, it's not like a computer or its speakers start breaking down after a few hours of music being played continuously. Of course, such a voice box would be more complex, and there are definitely some more unique ways for it to break or damage, but... I generally like to think they are pretty durable when they are used for speech or song. Which brings me to the concept which I decided to call "mechanical elves", or something to that effect.

Now, what does that even mean? It's simple; I was inspired by the portrayal of elven music in various fantasy media, like J. R. R. Tolkien's works. Songs that reach the deepest parts of your soul in an ancient, ellegant language, voices that sing heartwrenching ballads for hours on end about tragedies that happened millennia ago. And I thought... wouldn't that work for Cybertron? Or at least, Cybertron in its beginnings?

You have a race of giant, mechanical beings, many of which have lived for millions of years. And they do love their music, even if we often have no idea what it's like and get only snippets from their culture. You have people like Blaster, who is literally nicknamed "The Voice" in the IDW1 comics and uses his voice to inspire his fellow Autobots, among other things. Just their voice boxes alone have so much potential, and that just makes me feel stuff, honestly.

Why wouldn't they sing for incredible amounts of time without stopping, at least when the times weren't so complicated just yet?

Did the first Cybertronian who ever hummed a melody feel so much joy that he simply kept going and couldn't stop, before excitedly teaching others? When a friendship started to feel more than it already was, did the night start with a passionate serenade sung by a singular voice, which, as the hours went by, turned into a duet full of affectionate words to one another? When a Cybertronian died for the first time, did his brothers sing for his memory, and to survive the sorrow as they had no tears to weep?

Mechanical voices crying out in raw emotion to let the world know they're there, only for others to answer. Languages and dialects no longer spoken, beautifully haunting melodies long forgotten. And as the time went on, the world started to get more and more quiet, before the old compositions finally gave way to the new ones. Perhaps the Titans who yet live still remember a few notes or words once sung.

All that's left of the beginnings now is a requiem doubling as an ode to hope.

Its words?

"'Til all are one."

[midnightsun-if]

Oh, if we are talking about our other siblings (love them all, and our moms), my favourite is Christian. I can easily imagine my MC, when she was still a baby, fallowing him around like a little tail (that's what my dad used to call me, when I was smoll and followed him around - 'my little tail'). Especially since Christian was a little bit uncomfortable (scared even) with the little MC in the beginning and maybe tried to avoid her, I just imagine that made her even more persistent. And if someone asked why she couldn't leave her poor stressed out brother alone, she honestly said something like 'he's funny'.

Ok, sorry, I got a little bit carried away with my imaginary scenarios. Anyhow, love our disastrous big bro.

I think I might have to implement a choice either later on or somewhere in the first chapter where you can choose the sibling you were either the closest with (or tried to be), because I think that’ll make some of the angst later on so much sweeter. Especially if your MC has a relationship like this with Christian and you finally uncover what happened between him and Cienna… Will your view of him change? Will you stop loving him? Or if you’re close with Cienna… Will you think she’s been too harsh? Do you think she’s weaker because of it?

Percy will be the unproblematic bean that we all know and love… although she definitely has her moments later on that I think will be enticing to angst lovers too.

Thank you so much for sharing this with me! I absolutely loved reading it! Truly gave me an insight, and potential ideas, into your MCs mind and how she interacted with the siblings — especially Christian! 💜

[venture-through-the-mist]

Songs of Solitude

TW: Hi there! Before we get into this fic, I have a bit of a trigger warning to mention to y’all. There is a very brief moment in the last paragraph of the fic that, depending on how you read it, could be interpreted as a mention of potential suicide. Nothing happens, this is fully just Loid being worried about Lotus (he doesn’t really know her, after all, and the situation is definitely odd), and that isn’t really how I’d intended for it to be read anyhow, but figured I’d put up a warning in case.

Anyways, with that out of the way, the fic begins under the cut.

The singing begins on a day not too dissimilar from any other, by his account, at least. At first, he wonders if it’s simply yet another of his Albrecht’s ‘surprises’. It certainly wouldn’t shock him if that is the case, Albrecht always did enjoy concealing his inventions until their revelation suited him. It doesn’t bother him, not until he hears a shrill, questioning voice.

“Mister Loid! Mister Loid? Hey!” He sighs, turning to the brightly colored creature.

“Yes, Bird 3? What is it?” He’s known that the bird in question has been able to ‘escape’ that cage for…a while now. Granted, it isn’t entirely a cage, more of a large resting area, so this should not be surprising. His eye twitches slightly as the bird squawks again. Gods, why couldn’t Albrecht have chosen some other creature fo—he interrupts his own mind, scolding himself for the thought instantly. The Cavia have been through quite enough in their time. 

“What’s that sound? I thought it was the voices, but it doesn’t sound like ‘em. Rark.” Loid sighs once more. It seems he’s likely going to have to investigate what is certainly another one of Albrecht’s many projects. Strange that it seems to have decided to start working again now, but he supposes he cannot fault a machine. 

“I do not know. I suspect it’s something of Albrecht’s. Would you like me t—“ He’s interrupted rather abruptly as another voice shouts, the words punctuated with sharp hoof-beats, and he notices Tagfer nearly sprinting over.

“LOID. There’s someone over at the edge of the cliff. Not a Tenno. How the hell did it get here?” He frowns, adjusting his glasses—a nervous habit, he supposes—, before trying to appease the anxious Cervulite. Surely he’s mistaken?

“Are you quite certain that whoever it is isn’t a Tenno? I haven’t seen anyone else come through here.” The Cavia lowers his head, shaking it. He stomps a hoof on the ground, clearly agitated.

“Yes, I’m sure. Go see for yourself.” The animal’s nerves are, admittedly, not pairing well with his own curiosity, and Loid sighs. None of them will get any answers if he doesn’t investigate, will they? 

“Fine. Show me where they are.” He follows the Cervulite across the dunes, leaving Bird to his own devices for the moment. He will not cause…too much trouble, Loid hopes. As they near the edges of the dunes, where sand begins to meet the stony outcrops which fall away into the misty nothingness below, he does catch sight of a figure. He cannot discern the details from this distance, but the silhouette doesn’t seem too dissimilar from the average Tenno’s. He almost misses Tagfer’s abrupt stop, and he very nearly crashes into the creature. The animal’s thin tail thrashes in the air, his head shaking from side to side. Tagfer stomps a hoof down, though the sound is muffled by the sand.

“I’m not going any further. Something’s not right.” Loid rolls his eyes, but, given the Cervulite’s state, thinks it wise to refrain from arguing. 

“Alright. I’m sure it is only a Tenno. You needn’t be so concerned.” Tagfer glares, his tail flicking, the movement calmed now that he knows he doesn’t have to continue the trek. He turns, though mutters a parting comment to the man.

“Don’t die.” Loid huffs, amused. He continues his approach, noticing that the singing seems to get louder as he nears the figure. Well, that gives him one less thing to worry about, and one less invention of Albrecht’s to keep up with. Now closer, he finds that he can discern the tone of the singer properly. She—it is a woman, he realizes—sounds…distracted. The notes are sharp, disconnected. Lonely. He wonders which of the Tenno could possibly be in such a state. He frowns as he begins to see her properly through the fog. Why does she stand so close to the edge? What is she looking at? His curiosity is piqued as he notices the garments she wears, the crested helmet that adorns her head. This is certainly not a configuration of Warframe that he has seen yet. Perhaps Tagfer was correct. She must hear him, and the singing halts abruptly. She does not speak, however, so Loid takes it upon himself to take the first step towards conversation.

“I apologize if I have disturbed you. Might I ask what you are doing out here?” She turns, and as she does so, a memory flashes in his mind. A description, one given to him by many Tenno, eager to tell the stories of the world outside the Sanctum. The crested helmet, the flowing robes…these belong to a creature that he has only heard tales of. The Lotus. The leader—the mother—of the Tenno. The being who many have held partially responsible for the near-fall of the Origin System, and the being who was ultimately responsible for saving it regardless. She speaks, her voice poised, as would befit a leader.

“Do not apologize. It is I who have caused a disturbance. I am…answering a call. One that seems to have led me here.” That is…woefully cryptic, even by his standards. He cannot see her eyes, cannot see much of her face for that matter, which puts him ill at-ease. He has little way of reading her. 

“It has led you to the edge of the cliff?” His skeptical question causes her head to turn slightly, perhaps glancing back into the near-empty Void below. He notices something in her hand, an odd rectangular object.

“What is that?” Her attention is directed back to the object, away from the nothingness that is mere footsteps away from her—Loid finds himself relieved by that, though he is unsure why—and she hums softly.

“I am not sure. But it is calling to me, trying to influence my thoughts. Can you hear its voice?” No, he finds he cannot. Even as she shifts, holding it slightly in front of herself so that he can get a better look, Loid finds himself unable to determine what exactly the device is. He certainly does not hear any sound from it. But, something she had said sticks in his mind like a thorn, sending a spike of unease through his bones. Surely It is not…He shakes his head, both ridding himself of the thought and serving as a reply to the Lotus. He hears the being sigh, notices her shoulders lower slightly, almost as if she’s discouraged by the fact that only she seems to hear whatever is calling her.

“It wants the Tenno. I am not sure what for, but It…makes promises. Things that can be granted if I allow It to take them. Memories that can be…altered.” Loid groans softly. If he had any hope that the Indifference was not the one behind this, it has been squandered, dashed to shreds. 

“The Indifference is known to do…strange things in order to get what It wants. And what It wants, It cannot have.” He notices the Lotus shift, tilting her head slightly. Her tone is rather curious, if guarded—understandably so, of course.

“The Indifference. Some of the Tenno have mentioned It in passing, but never enough for me to be properly aware of what they are speaking about. I…” She trails off, and Loid notices her form tense slightly. He has no way of knowing what exactly It is showing her, but it cannot be pleasant. Perhaps that is why he’s rather surprised when she begins to address him again.

“I cannot—no, I will not let It harm them. It seems that I am a distraction, keeping Its attention off of my children. I will endure.” She sounds only slightly distant, something in her tone indicating that she isn’t entirely focused on the conversation right in front of her. Yet, he notices a firm determination in her voice, something that proves its existence further by the set of her jaw, the rigidity of her back. It seems that he and the Cavia have another mind to work with, someone else who can understand the destructive capability of the Indifference. If she wishes to endure Its torment to keep the Tenno out of Its clutches for just a while longer, well, Loid finds that he won’t stop her. It will only prove beneficial to his efforts anyhow. In her solitary vigil, she gives him more time to prepare, more time to ensure that their next move is successful. 

“Then welcome to the Sanctum. If you find yourself needing anything, I will do my best to aid you.” Her only response is a firm nod as she turns to face the fog once more, turning to look towards the massive expanse of floating rubble and the screaming maw. As he too turns his back, Loid hears the song begin anew. The sharp, determined notes sound only slightly less lonely than before. He makes his way back to the Sanctum, his shoes nearly sinking in the sand. He scoffs quietly. Of course. As two figures become clear, he realizes that the Cavia remain nearby his workspace. Two voices speak at once, one shrill, curious, the other sharp, still agitated.

“Soooo? What happened, Mister Loid? Did’ja find whoever’s making that sound too?”

“I told you it wasn’t a damn Tenno. At least you didn’t die. That would’ve been a mess.” Loid narrows his eyes at the Cervulite. Any response he would’ve given, however, is cut off by a third a voice. The fish.

“Have you discovered what is causing Tagfer to be in such a state of distress? Is this yet another conundrum that we must work out how to solve?” ‘We’? Loid nearly laughs at the absurdity of that. Yes, he has grown fond of the Cavia, but make no mistake. He is the one solving—or, attempting to solve—the vast expanse of ‘conundrums’ that seem to be lurking around every corner. He tempers his response, however. It will do no one any good for him to be upset with the fish. He’s done nothing wrong. Not really. Besides cheating at Komi, at least.

“Yes, Fibonacci, I did. Now, may I explain, or would you all prefer to speak over me once again?” He’s met with a somewhat remorseful silence. Blissful silence. Which…is about to be broken when he reveals what he has to tell. He exhales sharply. Might as well get it over with.

“Fantastic. Now, yes Tagfer, you were correct in that she is not a Tenno. However, I will also tell you that you needn’t be afraid of her. She is the Lotus, the Daughter of Hunhow, the leader of the Tenno. The Indifference seems to be targeting her in order to get to them. She will be spending some time here to distract It, which should buy us enough time to prepare for our next steps.” He grits his teeth as Bird 3 interrupts.

“So is she making the sound?” He nods, but before he can get a word in, the bird continues. Sometimes…sometimes this creature is insufferable. 

“She sounds sad. Is she sad? Can we cheer her up? Maybe she’d want some of the shinies that I have lying around! Rark.” Well, he might not be the most…obviously intelligent of the animals, but even Loid has to admit that the bird has more emotional intelligence than possibly any of the others, himself included. He adjusts his glasses, wondering how exactly to word this. He settles for simplicity.

“She seems fine, if a tad lonely.” Once again, he isn’t allowed to continue speaking, and he has to hold back a groan of annoyance.

“We should go say hi to her then, right Mister Tagfer? Mister Fish-O-nacci, we can say hi from you too!” It’s the Cervulite who replies, stomping his hoof in annoyance.

“No, Bird. If she wants to mess with It, she can do it on her own. I don’t trust her.” Now, that seems uncalled for, and Loid finally manages to enter the conversation once more.

“She’s trustworthy, Tagfer. She isn’t someone you need to be worried about. She’s actively trying to help. However, I do think she wishes to do this alone.” Whatever ‘this’ is, he supposes. Not that he thinks that’s necessarily a great idea, but it’s a better plan than he’s got at the moment. Somehow, that appeases them, at least enough that they don’t continue to discuss the matter. Tagfer snorts, his hooves clicking against the floor as he returns to his spot by the entrance to the laboratories. Bird 3 seems to understand, and begins his trek back to his gilded ‘cage’. Only Fibonacci remains nearby, and he keeps silent. Thus, a new era begins. The Lotus never ventures into the Sanctum, always remaining at the cliff’s edge, as if she’s physically repelling the Indifference from leaving its position in the Void. Her song continues, day in and day out, hardly—if ever—pausing. She does not eat, she hardly sleeps—and Loid is still unclear as to if that hour of silence truly meant that she was asleep—, she simply sings. He keeps watch, telling himself that it’s only for the Tenno, but he knows he is lying. Despite everything, the Lotus might very well find a sort of family in the Sanctum, if she so wishes to. As the days pass, her tone changes. Sometimes, it is firmer, more determined. Others, she’s lonely, saddened, desperate. It’s always distracted, the notes sharp as if she must take a moment between them in order to recall which will come next. He can tell that this takes a great toll on her, but Loid is unsure what he or the others could possibly do to lessen her discomfort. So, he keeps watch, venturing away from his workbench when he can, or when the sound becomes too uncomfortable to listen to—though, her voice is always beautifully melodic—, venturing quietly to the edges of the dunes. He watches from afar, eying her for signs. Signs that this is simply too much. Signs that, gods forbid, the edge of the cliff, the call of the Void, is too tempting. Yet, despite everything, her form remains steady. Stiff, yes, but she does not waver. Her resolve does not falter. It must not. So, day in and day out, she sings. Day in and day out, she drowns out the incessant voice of the Indifference whilst Loid throws himself into his work. He finds that he too is missing out on sleep in order to find the missing piece of the puzzle. Two sides of the same coin, each tasked with their own unique tragedy. Each both waiting for and dreading the day the call is answered. Not by the Tenno, no. By someone else, though he’s unsure of who. But one day, for better or for worse, the call will be answered. The Lotus’s melody will cease. His work will be finished. But not yet. No. He won’t be late this time.

[magic-is-beauty]

i just finished sweet tooth season 2 and wtf why did a decent amount of good characters die?? like overall both seasons 1 and 2 were phenomenal and i love both seasons but like why did everyone have to die. to an extent i can understand killing johnny kinda as a shock i guess and to show Abbott's absolute cruelty,greed and indifference but it still hurt and aimee i sadly understand why they killed her i guess also as shock since she just her kids back but i suppose also to show that the sick could get anyone idk but it just felt devastating since number 1 the hybrids just got her back and 2. haven't both the hybrids and aimee herself suffered enough!? anyhow the animal army had SO MUCH potential to be something more since the whole concept of them was so intriguing and the writers never used their potential but instead killed them all which just felt like a huge cop out to both their concept and their characters but i guess there was just too many characters and concepts to fit in this series. now onto tiger like why did they introduce her again to just kill her in the last episode like it makes zero sense to introduce a character and then just kill them especially when tiger and bear were on the road to reconnecting and being a duo again. and don't get me started on her death which makes no sense like at all?? (i'm making a separate post on tiger death so i'm not going to continue it here).

anyhow i'm going to give my opinions on characters just because i physically can't shut up about this show

Gus - Gus is my sweet baby boy who desperately needs a hug after what he's been through like it felt like he could never catch a break and he definitely deserves one i do admire his optimism though

Jepp - he was always born to be a father like as soon as i saw him with Gus i was like this guy just became a father without even realizing it. his backstory is devastating like this guy was put through so much just to find out that the thing he was looking for was already gone. he acts tough and he is but he really is a sweet guy with a heart of gold and i'm glad i got to see his progression from being cold to being a lil bit of a softie who protects the people he cares about. i did quite enjoy his bickering with bear though it was quite funny

Aimee and Birdie - I unfortunately don't have a lot to say about them but I do think that they were interesting characters !! Aimee with both protecting,caring and loving these hybrids like they were they were her own probably knowing that they probably needed that in a world that was so cruel to them. Birdie instead of keeping Gus with her and constantly having to run she made the very smart and probably very hard decision in letting Gus go with Richard in order to live a fairly normal life where he could actually be a child which i appreciated since she knew that with her Gus wouldn't get the life that he deserved which in my eyes was her version of protecting him

Johnny - Johnny is again my sweet baby boy who deserves every good thing in his life like i never expected to love him as much as i did but that face was so freaking lovable. he tried his best in his life and i love that for him was devastated when he died a very cruel death by his asshole of a brother

Abbott - He deserves nothing good in his life instead he deserves every bad thing to come into his life like dude come on you're a terrible person who tortured and killed literal children without mercy just so you could live what a few more years

Wendy and other hybrids - Again I don't have a lot to say about Wendy either but i do love her relationship with the other hybrids it was actually really sweet and i'm excited to see where her characters goes next especially her and bear's relationship as siblings! the hybrids were so cute tho i loved how each got their own very different personalities

Adi and Rani - I see a lot of people hating them and I can understand a lil bit of that but I don't think I can ever fully hate them. I think both of them especially Adi are very complex characters but do I hate that Adi literally killed children to find a cure that wasn't even there 100% like dude you think cutting these poor kids up is going to help and I hate him for that. I do think his slow descent into madness is quite interesting though like going from a doctor,to a doctor during the sick,to just a dude who has a sick wife,back into a doctor who now knows that the person before him was cutting up hybrids for a cure that his sick wife was taking,to now a doctor and a scientist who is now pressured to find a cure,to a scientist who has gone into madness trying to find a cure even though his wife wants to leave and actually live a life before she dies like i'm paraphrasing but it is so interesting. Rani is a cool character tho and i think at first living with the sick she wanted to live but i think over time especially after seeing what was being done to hybrids in order to supply her medicine for her life she just got tired of living and seeing these poor kids die just for her to live and she just wanted a life with her husband to just live before she was gone to just see and experience things with Adi before the sick took her life

The animal army - I'll just say this once THEY HAD SO MUCH POTENTIAL and it was wasted by killing them off like they could have been this cool concept on how these kids who were around during the sick survived and became this army and it was thrown away

Tiger - Tiger was a amazing character who definitely gave me lesbian panic and had such a interesting relationship with bear with them being both best friends who knew each other for such a long time and also co leaders who had such differing point of views and were definitely in some sort of situationship. again death was devastating and was just getting good since her and bear were finally getting back to being friendly with each other. alright and now i'm going to talk about that whole sister line that i see some people talking about and when i watched that scene i didn't exactly interpret it as you already have a sister like relationship with me but kinda interpreted it as stop overthinking this sister thing you have me on your side being there to help and you already know how to be a great sister but i could be wrong

Jordan - I don't hate Jordan i am not a huge fan i found him lowkey kinda irritating and annoying but i do think he's a good example of how easily people can be manipulated into believing what the big guys (the last men) are spewing. also i think he definitely started having a thing for bear before finding out she was animal army

Becky/Bear - Becky is such a interesting character who again gave me lesbian panic but i digress like she was child who started an entire army just to find her sister like how freaking amazing is that !! also the fact that she is a child soldier who knows how to kill people and talks to adults about killing people is actually quite sad like she deserved to be a child and actually have a childhood but instead she had to grow up way too fast. and the fact she lost her family twice (her adopted family to the sick and her animal army family) is so sad like this girl cannot catch a break for the life of her. the trio of bear,Jepp,and Gus was actually really sweet tho like between Becky and Jepp's bickering and Gus trying to stop them fighting to jepp and bear being protective of Gus and them all fitting together like a weird ass puzzle is just perfect. Her relationship with Wendy i'm excited to see it continue and how it flourishes !! also i think after hearing that the animal army killed Jordan's dad she felt real guilty about that but she couldn't exactly tell him that she was apart of that so she was probably in her freaking out but you know she had to up a a apart that she was not in the animal army and she actually wanted to join the last men. also i think bear found Jordan more as friend since she lost all of hers before and she just tolerated his presence since he was her ticket to find answers but i can understand Jordan x bear shippers if they're people out there who do i just personally don't ship them but i will happily respect people who do! however i am a tiger x bear shipper cause like they were giving each major heart eyes and just seemed to be in love with each other but that's just my opinion

alright that's all i'm excited to see what season 3 of sweet tooth brings me !! (excuse any spelling or maybe grammar mistakes i wrote this a 3 am)

[bomberqueen17]

the far side of the world

i've made it via audiobook to book 10 of Patrick O'Brian's Jack Aubrey / Stephen Maturin series and I initially read these books so long ago that time and again I'm like oh i definitely didn't read this one i don't remember it at all and then I stumble across something that I'm like ... oh, no i definitely read this one so like. well. i just can't tell. But i really do think I'd read these before, and I just was too young to fully understand some of the bits.

I'm making myself not look up spoilers for things so I can be surprised by them as they happen. But some of the things are just. Well. Anyway. I'll cut, so as not to discuss spoilers with anyone else who wanted not to be spoiled.

I was sort of sad, for this book, because Pullings had been promoted and thus wouldn't be in the ship anymore, more's the pity, but oh joy, he has come along as a volunteer! Won't Mowett, who is now first lieutenant after his departure, be jealous or feel slighted, Stephen asked, and Jack says why, anyone else would, but those two get along so well and have already worked it out between them, there will be no trouble among them. Stephen muses that they are polyandrous husbands, to be sure, married to the ship, and Jack needs the word defined and then is sort of gently skeeved-out at the entire notion of polyandry, despite his own imperfect command of monogamy.

This finally drove me to look at AO3 to see if there were any fanfiction specifically of this pairing, because I would completely read Mowett/Pullings/HMS Surprise, treated with any kind of gravity (and crack would also suit). Alas I found none, and distressingly little Pullings/Mowett either. In my mind I have dubbed them the Tubular Husbands, as Mowett is initially described as a "perfectly tubular young man" (I think the description is meant to hint that he is still slender with youth and has not really filled out into full adulthood yet, as I believe he is meant to be a teenager in that first book), and later Pullings is also described as somewhat tubular in form, I think in a musing by one of our principal characters that he has recently filled out and thus is no longer quite so caterpillar-like. Anyway I think Tubular Husbands is a perfect ship name for them and if I were in a fic-writing way at all currently, and not so taken up with my various ongoing shit, I would totally write it. High, excellent potential there.

But I digress. Well, not really, that's about all I had to talk about.

It's hard to quote snippets from an audiobook but the other night I was enamored enough of this passage to transcribe it. Stephen is speaking of Jack's wife, Sophie, who is a dear friend of Stephen's, he and she never having had the slightest romantic chemistry but understanding one another perfectly on a human level for many years.

"I desire you will not top it the Othello, brother, for shame? Stuff on you. If any man so far forgot himself as to make a licentious suggestion to Sophie, she would not understand him for a week. And then she would instantly lay him dead with your double-barreled fowling piece."

Everyone in these books is slightly autistic, to be sure.

Simon Vance is a great narrator, but any accent he does that is not English is just awful. His American accents are painful, and for an Italian woman he did the same bad French accent he does for every Frenchman. it is a shame, otherwise I do like his performance a great deal. Well, on 1.25x speed, otherwise the pauses for effect drag on too much. I do not need a languid cadence for a thirteen-hour piece, thanks much. But it's a delightful performance on 1.25x speed and I am enjoying it greatly, I just wish he had listened to like one Italian person speaking English before doing all the bits with Laura Fielding. Do you really think an Italian would pronounce it Lauxhra with that guttural French R? Meestehr Matuxhrîn! Non, I seenk not.

Anyhow I'm as far as the pacific ocean in book ten don't tell me what happens but do tell me your headcanons about the tubular husbands and just how dedicated they are to this undersized but sweet-sailing frigate.

[delimeful]

a still-glowing ember (2)

warnings: g/t, remus pov-typical violence/gore/innuendo, ignoring one's needs/magical burnout, self destructive behavior, hypothermia, death mention

-

If Remus didn’t find his brother soon, he was going to burn this stupid forest to the ground.

He decidedly ignored the way the night’s cold was seeping into him, frost biting deep enough that he probably couldn’t even conjure a spark, let alone a flame.

That wouldn’t stop him. He’d figure out how to start a fire the human way if that was what it took.

(And afterward, if Roman’s spark had already extinguished by the time he found him– he would find him– Remus would figure out how to burn to death the human way, too.)

They’d never be able to come back to this valley, anyhow. Remus had snatched three whole territory markers from a shifter as he headed north, using the decision-making process that had gotten him labeled ‘a danger to himself and others’ at his first colony.

What could he say? Roman was the closest thing he had to impulse control.

He’d considered going back for another one– the temperature drop as the sun set was killer, literally– but stealing foxfire was the sort of thing one couldn’t repeat without getting gleefully disemboweled by a pissed-off fox shifter, and who would track down Roman then?

Already planning exactly how he’d make fun of his brother for losing to a measly storm, Remus flapped his wings sharply, sending another wave of warmth through them and ignoring the way the cold pit in his chest deepened a bit more.

It didn’t matter. He’d always wondered what it would feel like to gutter down to ashes, anyhow.

The world’s most torchable forest continued to look the same no matter how far he flew, all thick-trunked trees and mossy undergrowth that he’d normally be eager to taste test. There was barely anything resembling a breeze, so the murmur of rustling leaves had been completely overtaken by the hum of insects and distant calls of night birds.

The lack of wind was just another stroke of bad luck. Normally, without any drafts to coast on, sprites would find a perch to occupy. He couldn’t glide for long, meaning that his half-frozen wings were working twice as hard to keep him in the air.

He had to keep moving. Roman was out there somewhere, perched in one of these identical trees or flitting from branch to branch in his own search. If he actually cared that Remus was missing, that was. Remus’s brain was beginning to suggest otherwise.

Maybe he’s glad to have the chance to get away from you, his mind offered. You should hunt him down and break his wings into little frozen splinters.

There was a heavy thud and rustle nearby, and Remus veered towards it, because investigating things that could potentially murder him sounded way better than listening to the squishy gray matter in his skull.

The source of the commotion turned out to be a sizable bear, shuffling its way down the trunk of a large tree. Remus circled around the scene on quiet wings, taking in the practiced movements of the beast.

Oh yeah, that could definitely murder me, he thought, successfully sidetracked. In a single hit, even. One of those paws probably weighed as much as three of him.

It was a moon bear, he was pretty sure, just barely able to see the telltale sliver of cream fur on its chest in the dark of the night. Not one of the more carnivorous species, boo.

No idea what it had been doing up there, but he didn’t have time to pursue the distraction any further.

With all the turning, his glide had shifted to more of a controlled fall, and he flapped his wings a few times, ignoring the way the bear’s attention shifted towards his direction. The flaps were frustratingly weak, slowed by encroaching icy numbness, and he forced another surge of warmth through them.

His spark pulsed painfully, and in the next moment, his vision blacked out entirely.

His wings flailed out to try and brake automatically, but vertigo had struck like a viper, and he could hardly tell up from down. There was wind in his ears now, which probably meant that he was currently hurtling towards a very splattery end.

He’d always said he wanted to go out screaming and covered in someone else’s blood, but he couldn’t even draw breath to yell, his whole body struggling to right itself amidst the pain of nearly burning himself out.

There was a sudden impact against one wing, hard but thin– a branch? Any semblance of direction vanished as he tumbled head over heels through what felt like an endless stretch of bush. Each stinging lash hurt, but by the time he hit the ground, his momentum had slowed enough to make the impact totally agonizing instead of extremely fatal.

He lay there for a few long moments, stunned or possibly paralyzed. He couldn’t really tell if the snapping sounds had been the branches around him or all of his bones. Slowly, his vision began to fade back in, each blink bringing a new arrangement of black spots.

Distantly, he finally registered an odd sound, one that was gradually growing closer.

Snuffling.

Oh, right. The bear.

Moon bears weren’t particularly active carnivores, but their primary meat intake was carrion. He remembered because he’d thought it was extremely funny, and also an excellent fact to gross Roman out with.

Remus attempted to twitch a wing, and failed miserably. His whole body felt like it had been tenderized into a paste.

… He was pretty sure he counted as carrion, at this point.

Getting eaten by a bear was a cooler death than hitting the ground because he forgot how to fly, at least.

The rustling of leaves intensified as something began pushing past the bush’s branches, presumably searching for him.

There was the sour taste of misery on the back of his tongue, knowing that if Roman was still alive out there somewhere, Remus had abandoned him with not even a corpse left behind. It was his own fault, he thought with a pang of aimless violent fury. If he’d been smarter or quicker or more reserved about his search, he wouldn’t be in this mess.

He was distracted from the impulse to bite down on his own arm– half to vent his anger and half because if something was going to eat him, he wanted the first bite– by the sensation of something soft and warm grazing him.

It was like his body remembered it was freezing all at once. He leaned against the warmth despite himself, his breath catching as a new wave of involuntary shivering agitated every bruise and bump he had, and struggled to think past the sensation.

The thing grabbing him wasn’t a bear mouth, he realized, mildly disgruntled. There were no teeth. Only a bunch of flexible, appendage-like protrusions poking through the brush and curling around him.

The mystery of it all was the only thing keeping his mind off his shrieking nervous system as his battered frame was steadily pried free from the bush’s tangled grasp. He stared down at the fleshy lump settled across his chest like a band and abruptly realized he was looking at a fingernail.

A hand. Had a human somehow grabbed him? Remus blinked, dizzily sinking into the warmth of it. Maybe they could help him with the forest fire. He’d been planning to set something on fire human-style, hadn’t he?

“Try to stay awake. Your body temperature is dangerously low,” a low, measured voice informed him.

Remus hadn’t even realized he’d closed his eyes until he opened them to the sight of a considerably larger face looking down at him. Not human after all, going by those fangs and the round, fuzzy black ears atop the stranger’s head. Where had he seen those ears before…?

The stranger had continued talking, not that Remus had caught any of it, and was now levering his arm up between two fingers and pressing on it. It felt gentle, but sensations could be deceiving in the cold, so it was totally possible he was about to watch his humerus get snapped in two. The stranger was staring at him expectantly now, as though a question had been asked.

Remus didn’t have an answer, but having finally figured out just what kind of shifter was holding him, he did have something to say. Inhaling past his bruised ribs, he tilted his head back against the palm he was resting on to make eye contact.

“You’re beary hot,” he managed, and with his piece said, proceeded to immediately pass out.

–

Remus woke up to fur in his mouth.

“Pfah,” he said, coherently.

The fur underneath him twitched, everything swaying slightly as though wherever he was laying wasn’t exactly solid ground. He was also sweltering, which was a great state for him to be in if he didn’t want his spark to go out from overstress. Really though, how much fur did one have to inhale to start coughing up hairballs?

There was a careful oversized breath, and then the surface below him abruptly shifted to something much flatter and smoother. Fabric, Remus realized, his cheek pressed against distinct woven threads.

“Hello,” a voice rumbled through him, large and close. “You’re on top of me. Please don’t be alarmed.”

Remus waggled his eyebrows blearily, still too disoriented to even contemplate being alarmed. Besides, he didn’t startle easily. He was normally the one alarming.

“Did you at least buy me dinner first?” he asked, his delivery weakened by the instant pain that blossomed in his chest. “Ow.”

“My apologies,” the voice replied. “I was unable to reduce the bruising of your ribs, since applying ice would have only worsened your condition. I did not prepare any dinner, because you were unconscious.”

Either this guy had the best deadpan in the business, or the innuendo had completely flown over his head. Remus was delighted regardless.

He struggled to push himself upright, his entire body protesting severely, and a giant hand lifted into his line of sight, hurriedly curving around him as a supportive measure. The feeling was familiar, and Remus went rigid as he recalled exactly how he’d gotten here.

“Where are we?” he asked, all traces of his lackadaisical attitude gone.

If the stranger was surprised by his sudden intensity, he didn’t show it. “My home. It’s a cave near the northwestern edge of the valley, and I brought you here after seeing–”

“You motherfucker,” Remus swore, and twisted to bite down on the stranger’s hand.

The fingers contracted briefly, but surprisingly enough, didn’t collapse down to instinctively crush him.

“Ow.” The stranger’s voice was insultingly monotone about the attack, which admittedly hadn’t even broken skin. “Stop that. There’s no need, I don’t intend you any harm.”

Seeing that his best efforts weren’t cutting it, Remus unlatched his jaw and craned his neck to scowl up at them. “Forget harm! You kidnapped me while I was in the middle of something!”

“Yes,” they replied dryly, “dying. I noticed.”

“How long has it been?” Remus asked, shoving to his hands and knees. “Is it still night?”

There were two hands hovering anxiously over him, now. “Not long has passed. There are still several hours until dawn breaks. Why?”

“Because I’ve got a featherbrain brother to find,” he said, “so sorry to smash-and-dash, stranger, but you’ll have to abduct me to your cave against my will another time.”

The stranger went quiet for a long moment, during which Remus painstakingly managed to push himself up to a standing position, though his wings were limply dragging behind him.

He couldn’t really see very far before his vision went blurry, so he wasn’t sure entirely where the exit was, but he could figure it out. It was a cave, after all: either he’d find the opening or he’d walk endlessly deeper and deeper into the earth like a dumbass.

Before he could successfully balance well enough to take a step towards one of those destinations, though, a shadow fell over him.

“My name is Logan,” the shifter spoke up, “and I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

As easily as a breeze would pick up a leaf, Logan scooped Remus off his feet back into his cupped palm.

“Nobody ‘lets’ me do anything!” Remus snapped back, thrashing as best he could against the grip. Seeing as he currently had the strength of a newborn kitten, it didn’t do much. “Come on, you can eat my corpse later, I’ve got time-sensitive shit to do!”

The comment earned him a minor twitch. “I have no desire to eat your corpse. That would defeat the entire purpose of this venture, which is to prevent you from becoming a corpse in the first place.”

“My corpse, my business!” It was frustrating to know that if they had met in normal circumstances, Logan was exactly the sort of stiff-backed repressed nerd that Remus would have delighted in teasing. Almost as frustrating as the fact that the dork wouldn’t let him go!

With a huff, Remus gave up on avoiding agitating his wounds and threw himself into struggling with no care for bodily harm.

“Listen to me,” Logan tried, sounding slightly more harried. “Your internal temperature is only barely beginning to recover. If you expose yourself to the frigid weather outside for any longer–!”

“Oh, I’ll expose myself alright,” Remus snarled, because what was the point of nonsensical threats if they couldn’t also be saucy? “Roman is out there in that weather!”

“And you’ll be no help to him if you choose to freeze to death out of simple, ignorant stubbornness!” Logan literally growled, the noise vibrating through Remus and lingering in the back of the shifter’s chest. “I will help you search once you’ve stabilized, but until then, you are at my mercy.”

Remus stared up at him, in utter disbelief that someone could make playing nursemaid to a sprite sound so threatening.

Logan’s expression softened, but his grip remained firm. “I refuse to sit by and watch such foolishness. I won’t be made to explain it to your brother.”

Maybe it was the way his words assumed Roman’s survival after Remus had spent the whole night imagining the worst, or maybe Remus was just exhausted enough for a rational argument to have an effect on him for once.

Either way, he clearly wasn’t winning this fight. He let his body flop limply against Logan’s hand with no little amount of petulance.

“If you don’t help me search, I’ll learn how to perform surgery on giants just so I can fill your organs with flesh-eating wasps.”

Logan took the concession for what it was, and only raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t it be simpler to lock me in a room with the wasps? My flesh would be eaten either way, right?”

It was the perfect question to distract himself with. Remus launched into a heated defense of the differences between external versus internal flesh consumption as torture methods, barely noticing as Logan carefully moved his limp wings back into a more comfortable resting position.

The shifter kept asking questions as he cupped his hand against his chest, creating a cushion of warmth on all sides. Remus kept talking even as drowsiness began to set in, a sprite cradled up against the heartbeat of a bear shifter. Heh. He had always wanted to cuddle something that could maul him.

Remus knew the warmth rekindling in his chest was his spark. Still, it felt a little like hope, too.

… Blech, Roman had been rubbing off on him.

He’d have to return the favor once they were reunited.

[shealynn88]

2023 Writing Wrap Up

Thanks to @citrusses for the tag, it's always fun to reflect on what I've done! Tagging @all-or-nothing-baby, @makeitp1nk, @phdmama and @apricitydays-lazynights

I actually wrote about half of these stories this year, but this is what I posted this year. I spent a good month digging out and wrapping up some WIPs that had been hanging around. They're at the bottom, since most of them are not HP related.

If you are a Drarry fan and want my best of the year, let me suggest my kinktober oviposition offering:

A Charitable Endeavour (Harry Potter|Drarry)(E) (2,322 words)

If you like rarepairs, I would suggest these two, after paying close attention to tags:

Never Too Much (Harry Potter|Harry/Remus)(E) (3,432 words)

A Gift of Forbidden Fruit (Harry Potter|Hermione/Bill,Hermione/Ron)(E) (6,805 words)

For all 29 stories I posted to ao3 this year, keep going!

Beginning of 2023:

For Everything, a Season (Harry Potter|Drarry) (1,342 words)

A Christmas fic for the Drarry Microfic exchange of 2022 which, just like the one for 2023, started out being something very different, and ended up this - a short snippet of an older, married Drarry, reflecting and enjoying their life.

The Old is New Again (Harry Potter|Drarry) (1,471 words)

I wanted to do my own take on trans!Draco, and this became Calla, and honestly? I love her.

Kinktober was so much fun. I really wanted to challenge myself with these, and I continue to be challenged with more of these stories that'll go out in 2024. It's been so much fun, especially writing kinks I don't share, since I have to really dig into characters and why the kinks appeal to them.

dare to dream it, dare to be it (Harry Potter|Harry/Sirius/Remus) (1,886 words)

I loved writing this boot worship kink story, I loved finding the ways that it's important to both Harry and Sirius, and exploring Harry's hopes and insecurities when it came to Remus.

Never Too Much (Harry Potter|Harry/Remus) (3,432 words)

This watersports story is so wholesome, honestly. It's E rated, but it's an established relationship, and it's very much about trust and vulnerability, and I love that aspect of exploring kinks like this, that can involve judgement.

Unlocked (Harry Potter|Drarry; Harry/Sirius) (1,205 words)

This collar kink story was one of the most fun ideas I had. I wasn't able to flesh it out as much as I wanted to, but I'm definitely hoping to revisit this magical collar idea in the future. There's so much potential!

A Charitable Endeavour (Harry Potter|Drarry) (2,322 words)

Ovipostion! And one of the few Drarry fics I wrote for Kinktober. I actually really love these versions of Draco and Harry - Draco, an insatiable Veela, Harry, who is happy to attempt to satiate... and Luna, who needs some help with some dragon eggs. I actually have a few more fics planned in this verse, but we'll see if I get to them. So much filth to write, so little time.

A Gift of Forbidden Fruit (Harry Potter|Hermione/Bill,Hermione/Ron) (6,805 words)

The one I knew wouldn't hit, but I had to write it anyhow. It has infidelity, it has body worship, it has imperfect people trying to do their best for the people they love. It burrowed into my head and wouldn't let go, and I'm proud to have written it.

I started posting microfics to ao3 this year, including some older ones that I'd only posted on tumblr.

Your Spark to My Tinder (Harry Potter|Drarry) (717 words)

This was actually a ficlet I wrote on tumblr for @phdmama, and later posted to ao3. Short and sweet antagonistic Drarry.

The Nature of Kindness (Harry Potter|Drarry) (50 words)

A painful look at how Draco sees himself.

Where the Sea Takes Us (Harry Potter|Drarry) (651 words)

A fun merman!Draco fic.

Magnolia (Harry Potter|Drarry) (127 words)

A Hanahaki ficlet with an ambiguous ending.

A Lesson in Snogging (Harry Potter|Drarry) (129 words)

Smokin' but T rated Drarry.

Keep on Driving (Harry Potter|Drarry) (150 words)

Draco is newly divorced, Harry offers to give him a ride. Possibilities.

Might Seduce Your Dad Type (Harry Potter|Drarry/Sirius) (250 words)

This is 3 microfics, and I'm actually incredibly proud of it. It starts out Drarry, then ends up with them and Sirius. And it's a pretty solid little story in 250 words.

And the Christmas wrap up for the year!

This Time Next Year (Harry Potter|Drarry) (3,574 words)

An incomplete Christmas fic I'd meant to finish before Christmas but got behind on posting. Spoiler alert, it's actually a prequel to last year's microfic exchange, the first fic in this list.

The Heart of Our Home (Harry Potter|Drarry) (2,592 words)

This year's Drarry microfic exchange fic! Cottagecore with a scant spoonful of angst, and a sprinkle of sentient house fun.

Another challenge, which I set for myself, was to post stories that had sat around in my WIPs for a long time. I generally needed to add something, but in most cases I found that, even if I'd meant it to be a lot more, they stood alone as they were, or with some brief connections between scenes. I learned a lot from this effort.

Another Beginning (Teen Wolf (TV)|Deaton/Sheriff Stilinski) (3,168 words)

This was such a healing story for me to write and to put into the world. These two characters don't really get a lot of attention, especially in a romantic way, but I think they both have a really intense loyalty to the pack that makes them uniquely suited to one another, and I was really glad to be able to get this out so other people could enjoy it.

Our Relentless Dreaming (Dragaera - Steven Brust|Vlad/Morrolan) (4,431 words)

I'd had this one partially finished for quite a while, and I'd planned to tailor it for Yuletide and gift it. That...didn't work out very well, since I ended up being on the Yuletide naughty list, but I was still able to tweak it and gift it, and enjoy having it out there and off my WIPs list. It got a hearteningly beautiful reception, and I appreciated that so much.

Picked Clean (Harry Potter|Draco & Harry) (989 words)

I never entirely knew where I wanted this to go, but I wanted it to be a darker look at Draco, especially, after the war. I wanted to take both Harry and Draco in a new direction, to understand them in a different way, and I really enjoyed exploring this take.

The Taste of You Lingers on my Tongue (Hannibal (TV)|Will/Hannibal) (627 words)

A dark but poignant first kiss vignette.

I Know the Pieces Fit (Teen Wolf (TV)|Sterek) (2,700 words)

I held onto this so long. There was one little section that I couldn't get to 'feel' right, but seeing as how this is one of the most popular things I posted this year...I think it's safe to say, it was the right time to release this post-series fic to the world.

Say Anything (Supernatural (TV 2005|Wincest)) (100 words)

A drabble featuring Jess.

Stalemate (Teen Wolf (TV)|pre-Sterek) (395 words)

I started a S1 rewatch, and started doing episode tags and inserts. This was the first one, from ep 1, where Stiles comes across Derek in the grocery store.

Skewed Normal (Teen Wolf (TV)|pre-Sterek) (378 words)

This was from the rewatch, S2, a little snippet exploring Derek's view of the world, and him protecting Stiles.

I Want to Give You the World, I Want to Give You Yourself (Supernatural (TV 2005)|Jody/Donna) (776 words)

I love Jody and Donna, and I loved exploring their relationship, how Jody would navigate it and what she would get out of it.

Between a Wolf and a Full Moon (Teen Wolf (TV)|Sterek) (2,832 words)

Xenophilic E rated fic with a lot of heart. I am a big fan of writing unhinged but wholesome fic.

Dating (Supernatural (TV 2005)|Destiel) (100 words)

A drabble where Sam accuses Dean of dating Cas.

In Grief, We're the Same (Teen Wolf (TV)|Dargent) (2,057 words)

This sat in my drafts because of a transition issue...I added a sentence and let 'er rip, and I like it a lot. It's a story of grief, of similarities, of people coming together in hard times, in hard ways, in the ways that work. It's about the slow process of working through guilt and grief, and how it's just a little easier with someone who understands.

Show Me What You Got (Supernatural (TV 2005)|Wincest) (871 words)

Some short Wincest filth that I wrapped up a year later with one final scene.

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 6: The Devil Takes Care of His Own

Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

Rating: M? (Still figuring out the rating system) (might eventually be M anyhow)

Warnings: language, I think this chapter is pretty tame?

Word count: 2,255ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being a sounding board for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being a cheerleader, and allowing me to screech at her about things that have happened during the writing process. Seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y’all! 💛

Author's note: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! 💛🤓

Stella pulled up to the ranch. When she had gotten a text from Rip last night to come in today by noon, she had wanted to die. Breathing out loudly, she shut the car off and prepared herself for the potential heartbreak that was about to happen. She looked to her left and realized she had parked next to Kayce’s truck. ‘Shit. What’s he doing here?’

She immediately felt her chest tighten. What if John had lied to get him here to back him into a corner and to help make sure she would stay in line when he fired her and kicked her out?

“Fuuuuck,” she drug the syllable out quietly. She shook her head. ‘No. There’s no way Kayce would let that happen.’ Sliding her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, she hopped out of the SUV.

Glancing around, Stella could see a lot of activity for the day in full swing. It looked like they were separating steer prospects they didn’t want to keep. She didn’t see Kayce, but she did spot her brother. She smiled affectionately seeing him doing the work he loved to do. When her eyes landed farther to the right, she saw Tate leaning on the fence watching with childlike wonder.

She wandered over to the little boy. “Hey bud!”

“Oh hey Aunt Stell! Isn’t this cool?”

“Yeah it sure is. I love watching them.” She smiled. She whispered conspiratorially to him. “It’s even more fun to do it though.”

Tate looked at her with wide eyes. “You’ve done this before??”

She smiled. “Yessir I have. Plenty of times. With my brother and your dad, and your grandpa.”

“Woaahhh! That’s awesome! I wanna do it too!” Her best friend’s son practically started to levitate with excitement.

“Well you’ve gotta be just a little bit bigger for that, bud.” She chuckled. “Speaking of your dad, do you know where he went?”

“I think he went to talk to grandpa.”

Stella sighed. “Okay I’m gonna go find them. Stay on this fence and not the inside one, alright?” She ruffled his hair gingerly and he giggled. Stella knew Tate knew better, but she couldn’t help herself to give the warning anyhow.

Stella circled around and gave everything a passing glance. It was almost like an out of body stream of consciousness. Her eyes stopped as they landed on the two men in question looking in her direction. She was sure she turned seven different shades of pale. Stretching her neck from side to side, she walked toward them. Little did Stella know, they watched her from the moment she pulled in.

“Is this my judge and jury pair?” It was spiteful of her to say that. She cringed and started again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be like that.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” Kayce asked, surprised at her rough greeting. Stella’s eyes darted to John, whose face was stoic, but his eyebrows raised slightly. He hadn’t told Kayce.

She tried to smooth past her slip. “Nothin’. Y’all just seemed like you were ready to make big decisions for everyone’s day. So the judge,” she motioned at John, “and the jury.” She finished pointing to Kayce. “I’m also just in rare form today apparently.”

Kayce decided to ignore that and looked at his dad. “How’s that stallion treatin’ ya?”

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving.” John snorted and looked around.

Stella laughed quietly. “He’s definitely giving everyone a run for their money. And I’m almost outta money.”

“Kayce, let me borrow Stella for a second.”

The younger Dutton stopped shifting on his feet. He passed a look between his dad and his best friend, confused. “Sure. Don’t need my permission.”

John waved his hand for Stella to follow him. Kayce caught the sight of her wiping her hands on her legs. Why was she nervous to talk to his dad, of all people? This is the girl that told his dad to ‘go fuck himself and get off his high horse, it’s not just about you’ when she defended him back when she was 18. He reached out to grab her arm, but his fingertips barely brushed it. She fixed him with a look that made him stop any form of question.

When the eldest Dutton and Stella walked around the corner, she let out a heavy sigh. She leaned her shoulder on the wall while she placed her hands in her back pockets.

“Well, let’s have it, sir.” She tried to brace herself for the hit.

John pinned her to her spot with a look of warning. “I heard your conversation with Rip last night.”

“And I meant every word.” She answered confidently. “If you think I’d have loose lips, you really don’t know me like I thought you might have.”

Kayce had snuck up behind them. “What the hell are you accusing her of?”

Stella threw her hands up and let them slap back on her thighs. She hadn’t planned on telling Kayce, but he inserted himself into the problem.“Well, now is as good a time as any. I overheard a conversation, and decided to sneak out instead of making my presence known. Your dad saw me leave, and then I lied to him about it because I didn’t know he saw me.”

“So you’re questioning her integrity?”

“No, son, that already happened. I’m telling her she’s allowed to stay. My men trust her. My son,” he paused to look directly at Kayce, “trusts her. I’ve never had any issues. So I’m letting it slide. Once. I think she’s learned her lesson. But Stella?”

She looked at him wide eyed. “Yessir?”

“Lie to my face again?” She understood the hidden meaning of the slippery slope. “Now, I’m going to go see my grandson.”

“Stella, c’mon.” Kayce left her no room for argument. The way he turned and walked off told her he was definitely pissed. She rolled her eyes and fixed her glasses. “Come on.” She heard Kayce press.

Stella picked up her pace to catch him. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’. Jeez.”

Kayce whipped around at her when they got to the tack room. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?!”

She placed a hand on the middle of his chest to keep him out of her face, “woah woah woah there, cowboy. I didn’t keep anything from you,” then removed it just as fast. “You were dealing with a lot. It’s not your responsibility to mend my busted fences.”

“But he’s my dad, and he should fuckin’ know better. Especially when it comes to you.”

“Those kinds of things get forgotten. Especially when it wasn’t happening to his family, Kayce. Of course he remembers yours.” Both sets of eyes glazed over for a minute, recollecting the memory.

“I could have reminded him. I could’ve made your life so much easier.”

“Yeah, but how will I learn anything if you’re fixing things for me all the time?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “You won’t always be there to save me. Also, just because I’m your best friend, doesn’t mean I should get preferential treatment either. I’m still an employee here, ya know.”

Stella went to lean against the work table against the back wall. She leaned back on her hands and gazed at Kayce. “You know, this is the same exact conversation you helped me have with my brother when I turned 18. I’m not doing it twice.” She scoffed out a humorless chuckle. “Everything is fine, Kace. Next time I’ll announce myself to the conversation with bells and confetti.”

“That’s not funny, and you know it. This could have been bad.” He scoffed back at her, but still came to lean next to her. Touching shoulders like always.

“Rip wouldn’t have let it get there.” Stella defended.

Kayce had a sudden realization. “Wait, is that why you thought I was here? To help kick you out? Do you really think I would have let that happen?!”

She sighed harshly. “No Kayce. I don’t. I do, however, think your dad would have lied to get you here and back you into a corner. I’ve seen him do it before.”

“Also wait a minute, Rip?! I could stop the problem at the starting gate.” Kayce ignored the accusation about his father. He knew she was right.

She joked. “So now we’re derby runners? I thought we were cowboys.”

“Stella…” He let her name fall off in a warning.

She put her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. It’s not funny. If I saw things start to really go sideways, I would have come to you. I promise.” Stella fixed her glasses while she played with the bottom of her T-shirt. It was time to change the subject. “So how are you? How’s Monica?”

“I’m alright. Day by day, you know. Monica…? She’s holding on, but I can’t talk to her.”

Her face scrunched up. “Since when can’t you talk to her? I would expect that to happen between us before it happened with you two.”

“There’s something I did that can’t be forgiven.”

“Kayce… I highly doubt there is anything you could do, that she wouldn’t forgive you for.”

“Not this.”

“So what is it?”

“I can’t tell you either.” He looked down. Defeated. Stella observed him for a minute. He looked lost. Scared almost. The look reminded her of that day they snuck out and got trapped by a brown bear and she threw herself in front of Kayce right as Rip came galloping up to save them.

“Well, I know when you’re ready, you’ll tell me. But you’ve gotta talk to your wife, Kayce. You can’t leave her in the dark. It probably hurts her that you’re avoiding her.”

“You think I don’t know that? I just, can’t break her heart like this.” Stella reached over and patted his back between his shoulders.

“Whatever it is, cowboy, we’ll get through it. I’ll be here to help as long as you want me to be.”

Kayce pulled out his phone to check the time. His dad and son had been gone for quite some time.

“I gotta go get a horse. I need to find Tate.”

Stella practically jogged to keep up with Kayce. He was headed Rip’s way. Ryan and Colby walked in the opposite direction towards the friend pair. They were headed to dinner. Ryan could be heard calling Fred a dipshit. She let out a hearty laugh because it was the god's honest truth. As they got closer, they could hear Rip talking to Lloyd. He told him to give Fred his wages and send him on his way. ‘Oo shit.’ Her eyebrows raised. Jimmy limped by them.

She shouted at Jimmy. “What the hell happened to you?!” She stopped following Kayce to talk to Jimmy. In her peripheral vision, she saw Kayce stop and glance back at her and Jimmy to watch the interaction. Stella reached out to examine the bloody lip Jimmy acquired and the nice goose egg on his forehead. Kayce exhaled loudly, and Stella was all but sure there was an eyeroll and clenched jaw attached to it, but he continued moving.

Jimmy side eyed the youngest Dutton. “Uh, it’s nothing. You go catch up with Kayce.”

Rip yelled at Stella as he and Kayce went into the barn. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ clean ‘im up! Let everybody see!”

“I’m at least gonna give you some Tylenol. Rip can suck my ass if he gets pissy about me going to the bunkhouse for that. C’mon.” She pulled Jimmy along to the bunkhouse.

As Stella searched for the Tylenol, the air was tense between them. She could feel he wanted to ask her something.

“Go ahead and ask Jimmy. I’m mostly an open book.” She nosed around in the top cabinet.

“Oh it’s nothing.”

She looked at him disapprovingly above her lenses. “Yeah and I’m Miss America.”

“Okay so I’m probably wrong, but is there something going on between you and Kayce?”

If she would have had water in her mouth, it would have been spat across the room. “What?!”

Jimmy fidgeted around. “Well you guys are really close and I’ve seen how you look at him.”

Stella found the bottle in the back of the cabinet. She turned to face Jimmy with as much seriousness as she could muster and a deadpan face. “For the love of god, don’t repeat that thought to anyone else. I’ll be dead in 24 hours. Whether from embarrassment, or Monica murdering me herself, I don’t know.” She snapped the cabinet shut. “No, there's nothing going on between me and a married man. He’s just my best friend. Always has been, always will be.”

“Oh yeah definitely. I just maybe thought —,”

“— Well you thought wrong.” Stella interrupted, and roughly shoved the bottle at Jimmy. “Here’s your Tylenol. Keep those thoughts to yourself. Clear?”

“Crystal.” Jimmy watched as Stella stomped off. He heard the telltale jingle of her keys and the front door slam.

Stella stormed past the picnic tables where everyone had gathered. Ryan and Colby called out to her as she stalked by, only to be ignored and left perplexed. Even Rip and Lloyd shared a look.

By the time she made it to her SUV, she reached a boiling point. She huffed and puffed while blindly searching for the unlock button. Hopping in, she jammed the key into the ignition. Stella was ready to go home and get away from this cursed place for the night.

She felt like a child with how she reacted. If anything, her reaction made her seem guiltier than she was.

[danganronpa96]

If Trial 2 was the other way around, with Saiki killing Retsuko and Kaidou surviving in his place, how do you think things might have changed?

Ah yes, Saiki the furry killer (/j)

Kaidou… won’t be doing so hot proceeding his execution. Just like how Saiki was, but instead of never wanting to leave his room, I think Kaidou would want to leave eventually, but is too afraid and grief stricken to really move.

Latte, arguably the closest to Kaidou at this point, would definitely appear at his door every meal opportunity, leaving something nice by his door, talking to him about things, and leaving to give him time on his own to take the food into his room. Hell, sometimes she’ll just appear to gives more words of comfort, perhaps with Mai in tow if the two are together.

I think, at one point, encouraged by Latte’s words, Kaidou would appear in the restaurant one morning. Everyone is startled, not just because he’s finally there, but how he looks. No more bandages. His blazer is worn normally. He’s even tucked in his shirt to hide his hand-made tears in the seams. Kaidou finds it hard to remain this way, even a little embarrassed not in the comfort of his usual Jet Black Wings get up, but he knows if he’s going to face the reality of Saiki’s death, he needs to accept the reality of his own problems, too.

During the motive, I don’t think any partners would change. In that case, Hayasaka spends some time building up a small fatherly bond with Kaidou instead. I’d like to think he starts understanding why Latte is so protective over him, especially as he gains a newfound respect for Kaidou abandoning his fantasy persona, even if it is tricky at first. It’d also be funny if Kaidou got roped into joining the investigation gang, still out here suggesting silly ideas at first, but then claiming he wants to try his hardest to really help L and the others.

I don’t think Kaidou would have too much influence to change the chapter 3 case. Yuri might consider him a potential target at first due to his vulnerability, but since he’s always being coddled by his separate parents (tm), she doesn’t see the point. I do think it would be harder to get Latte on her own however, as she’d have both Mai and Kaidou around to probably convince her to keep safe.

Survivability wise, Kaidou could potentially make it. Or… maybe I’m evil and he would end up a victim somewhere anyhow, despite all the efforts he tried to overcome. I can’t really talk about any further plot aspects too much since we’re only at the end of chapter 4 currently lol

[sporkberries]

I saw your post about Tim and Jason and I’ve never agreed about something more. We need more fics where them getting closer is at least canon adjacent instead of the stuff we get in fanon. A lot of their fanon content really grosses me out because it sort of reads like Tim developing Stockholm syndrome for Jason who repeatedly abuses him but can’t be blamed for it because of “pit madness” 🤢. That might just be because of my personal experiences but it really grosses me out a lot of the time

YEAH NO I 100% AGREE. I think portraying Tim as automatically forgiving Jason for the awful things he does(TO TIM) and ohh Jason wants to hurt him but its not his faulltt. Is so fucking UEGH. I think its not only a disservice to both of their characters but a really weird dynamic to tag as “fluff” and “hurt/comfort”.

I especially dislike the Titan’s Tower stories not just because they misrepresent the actual scene(which is very ridiculous imo) but because having Jason beat the shit out of Tim and then WRITE ON THE WALLS WITH HIS BLOOD and then being like ohh no he’s his care taker now is so 😨. Like imagine someone beating you so bad THEY CAN WRITE WITH YOUR BLOOD and then them kidnapping you and “taking care of you” thats so fucked…

I think the fandom in general can turn Tim into a bit of a punching bag which… fair. Im not going to pretend like i dont like angst BUT when portraying these traumatic events or his interactions with the people around him they kinda make him… spineless? Which IS a valid trauma response but its not Tim. Tim can be literally on the verge of death and he’ll still probably be shit talking you y’know? He can be self sacrificing yeah but… come on.

IDK. Jason pre reboot is kinda not a great person and i think the fandom WANTS him to be and they want to twist it into “pit madness”(which isnt a long lasting thing) or “he protects women and kids”(does he?) when it just… isn’t true?

Fanon Jason as a whole is just kinda an OC with bits of current Jason mixed into him, he doesn’t exist outside the fandom. This is why i sometimes joke about being a “jason todd hater” when i dont really have much against the character(other than most his comics being shit 😔) but because i dislike some aspects of the fandom he represents.

I do think Tim and Jason have the POTENTIAL to get along. They’re both snarky bastards and that dynamic is fun to write and mess around with but there is A LOT of baggage to unpack. Titans tower stuff aside Tim broke Jason out of prison which resulted in Jason donning a batman suit and killing a bunch if people which Tim feels EXTREME guilt for. So even if pre reboot jason wants something to do with Tim(which i think he does as he continually reaches out to him) there is a lot they would need to work on. Which i admit would be interesting to read but sadly a lot of fics dont really follow the comics that well.

Anyhow closing this off i also want to mention again how the fandom prioritizes Tim’s largely fanon(or lobdell written so shouldnt be acknowledged ) relationship with jason over his long lasting canonical relationships with female characters( Cass and Helena[HELENA IS SUCH A VICTIM OF THIS OH MY GOD AND FANON JASON STEALS SO MANY OF HER TRAITS AN-]) 😔

But yeah fanon jason and tim is weird and i’d be interested to see an actual brotherhood develop between the two but i think it would take a lot of work from the both of them(which DC will definitely not put in 😔)

[halfagone]

That’s a good point, she probably only knows him as an adult, not his age. Hmm, how do you think Danny and Marinette would get along anyhow? I know he’d get along with Adrien like a house on fire, but I feel he and Marinette have some similarities as well.

If you think about it, in a great deal of ways, Danny could probably be compared to Chat Noir just minus all the flirting. And for all that Marinette- as Ladybug- rolls her eyes at his puns and wordplay, we have seen her go along and even banter back with that same humor. Marinette handles Chat just fine even as a civilian, so there's no difference on that front.

At the same time, Marinette is a very anxious person. We see that she has very good people skills and she knows how to corral a group together, much like Danny can, but sometimes she really struggles to get out of her own head. Danny, on the other hand, can be a little too dismissive at times so I can see that being a potential conflict. It's often the same case with Ladybug and Chat Noir.

And it's not always because they don't take something seriously, they just don't take something serious enough for her. Marinette is a prepper, she always tries to keep ahead and plan things out, where Danny tends to go with the flow. Of course this does stem from the threats they face; Marinette knows that the akuma are coming from someone somewhere, whereas Danny often just fights individually ghosts. Occasionally they'll team up, but very rarely is there a joint, united effort between them.

To a degree Marinette always goes with the flow, due to the nature of akuma, but you get the feeling from the way she plans out her speech to Adrien about how she's actually in love with him that it's more due to force of circumstances. Otherwise she does try to keep track and get ahead of Hawkmoth.

On Danny's end I can see him viewing Marinette in a couple different ways. She could always remind him of his sister, which would be understandable since the pair share a lot of the same qualities. They're supportive and energetic and they're always there with a plan or idea. But sometimes that can be overwhelming, and sometimes they make mistakes, like what Marinette did with Marc and Nathaniel. None of them are perfect by any means, but that's part of what makes them realistic.

You don't even have to make Danny the Ghost King to have him empathize with Marinette's situation as Guardian. In a lot of ways he's been forced as the Portal's keeper as well, and if anything happens to it who knows what becomes of him. That's a lot of responsibility that- in a certain perspective- is keeping them chained to other duties neither of them asked for but keep anyways.

Marinette tried to turn down the Ladybug miraculous once, but took it up again.

If we're counting Phantom Planet here, Danny's done the same. Even if we just count Identity Crisis really, Danny has done the same.

But there's a price for everything, and it's not a price they're willing to pay.

Danny's situation definitely mirrors Adrien's more, with a neglectful parent that's hurting them at home with their dismissiveness and also out on the field. The only difference is Danny is aware that's his parents hunting him down; Adrien doesn't get that luxury and pain.

I can definitely see them being friends; I've written them as friends. Their relationship wouldn't be as deep as Danny and Adrien's could be, and nowhere near what Marinette and Adrien have with each other. I don't think they'd be a couple for a lot of the same reasons I don't think Danny and Sam could really work as a couple, if you were wondering about that as well.

They'd have really cute banter if Marinette brought out her more teasing side and I can picture Danny giving her a rough time like a good older (younger? I've written him as older but he can definitely be younger if we wanted him to be) brother.

It could be very sweet is all 😊