#because we know what happens when those two get together - they lose track of time everything else fades away

[whateverisbeautiful]

I love waking up and reading your Richonne posts. You pretty much hit on every scene and I am so thankful for that.

Could you go over maybe a 2 part take of what you think had happened during the months of them getting to know each other during the prison times. Also, the months they got close together in Alexandria before they became official. Since, the show robbed of us seeing those scenes. I would love to hear your detailed theory on it because you know these two characters so well!

A 2-parter? You’re speaking my language, anon. 😋 Thank you for this message. 🙏🏽 And for some reason my mind read this ask and added in “a detailed play-by-play” of what I think happened and so that’s pretty much what I ended up writing. Starting with Part One - the time in between Seasons 3 and 4 at the prison that led to Rick and Michonne being like this in the season 4 premiere ⬇️💗:

I always like to think about what specific context from the actual show could most inform these type of unseen scenarios and then shape what I envision from there. So I first started thinking about where Rick and Michonne landed in the season 3 finale. 

If I remember correctly they both rode in the car together after saying their goodbyes to Andrea, and Daryl drove the bus. I feel like that car ride might have laid another small stepping stone toward growing Rick and Michonne’s fondness for each other. I don’t imagine that they even talked much in the car because it was a somber vibe after losing Andrea. But I can picture Rick seeing Michonne quietly emotional in the car, and for reasons he’s not fully aware of yet seeing her upset affects him and his want to comfort her is stronger than he’d expect.

I can picture something like when they pull up to the prison after Woodbury, Rick just lets her know that Andrea isn’t the only one who thinks it’s good that Michonne found them. And the silence after is so clearly his “I’m glad too.” But you know how back then Rick tended to say something that felt like it was almost going to be a profession about his fondness for her but then he’d sorta retreat - I think he’d do that and just add that they all are glad she’s with them. And Michonne would just give an appreciative smile and walk away because she’d still be pretty heartbroken over losing yet another person she cared about. 

Then I think going forward, that loss, on top of the loss of her boyfriend and baby, makes Michonne maintain a friendly distance from everyone in team family for a while. Like she’s always keeping herself busy by independently tending to tasks that help around the prison, going on runs, and trying to track down The Governor. But Rick still keeps an eye on her from afar.

And if I remember correctly, because it’s been a minute since I’ve watched these seasons, Rick and Michonne both weren’t members of that new committee that was formed. So I can imagine that maybe there were times when some of the other people closest to them were in meetings or away which may have prompted Rick and Michonne to chat a bit more - but still keeping it light and brief, not having extended conversations yet. Perhaps both would find themselves observing each other at times - Michonne seeing Rick out farming, Rick seeing Michonne out taking down walkers around the prison’s perimeter. Except maybe not watching her with binoculars this time lol.

Then, going off of info from s4, I think during these months that we didn’t see something that might’ve slowly but surely made Michonne lessen some of her lone wolf ways is when Daryl asks her to join him on runs. She agrees to go with him and they build a friendship.

And then whenever Michonne is back at the prison she starts getting closer to Carl too because they bond over things like books and comics. And perhaps Michonne and Carl especially bond when she brings back a bag of candy for him after one of her runs. They share some together and learn Michonne doesn’t mind the stale M&M's, and that becomes a running joke between them. 😊

So with Michonne getting closer to two of the people closest to Rick - Carl and Daryl - that starts bringing Rick and Michonne around each other more often too in a more social context. And this is where that crush we saw had clearly formed by the s4 premiere really starts taking root.

Like Michonne and Carl build this really natural, lighthearted, playful rapport and then it leads to Michonne lightly joking with Rick too. I picture that Rick is a bit bashful around her but they still occasionally have that flirty subtle-but-not-subtle “must’ve been something else then”/“you want to drive” type exchanges.

And Daryl definitely peeps these moments at times and knows you don’t even have to be an observant tracker to pick up on the stuff between Rick and Michonne. But he keeps those observations to himself...for the most part lol.

Michonne has playful banter with Daryl too but subconsciously she can feel that her exchanges with Rick feel different. And Rick loves it whenever Michonne spends time with them around the prison. It feels like family. 

Other TWD scenes that I think give a glimpse into what that time between s3 and s4 might've looked like are when Rick asks if she’s okay after she hurts her ankle, and when Rick washes up and asks if Michonne needs help with cleaning up those walker bodies. Lots of exchanges like that going on. Showing they care and like each other but are moving slowly toward really getting close.

And through these exchanges - of which it’s rarely ever just the two of them in private because Carl or people are usually always around - Rick and Michonne start to pick up on more and more things they like about each other.

I like to imagine that perhaps whenever the community had some downtime in the evenings or nights, it’d so often end up being Michonne, Carl, and Rick hanging around each other. With Judith there too sometimes, who Michonne seems to keep this subtle distance from as the baby triggers too painful a wound. 

But when Michonne starts to really care for them and feels herself getting closer to them - finding herself thinking about Rick and Carl while on runs and looking forward to their little exchanges - she starts going out further and further to look for the Governor - and subconsciously, part of that is to distance herself.

Rick isn’t crazy about her going off alone to find a certified madman but only really shows his disagreement in facial expression and maybe an occasional remark to Daryl about how he wants her to be safe. (And Daryl knows Rick wants that and more when it comes to Michonne, ijs.).

Maybe one time Rick does mention to Michonne that she doesn’t have to go out so much or so far but she’s adamant that it is something she has to do - hence why she makes that “It’s worth a shot" comment when she’s talking to Rick and Daryl in the s4 premiere.

She might already know Rick feels a type of way about her going on these missions cuz he briefly mentioned it before (and because he can't help but wear his emotions right on his face lol), but her subconscious also knows that staying around Rick too long is too vulnerable and wakes up too much within her that she thought died a while ago. 

Finally, I picture that there’s one night when Rick, Michonne, and Carl are just enjoying some downtime chatting together as usual but then either Carl falls asleep or somehow he leaves to talk with one of the kids around the prison and it’s a rare moment where it’s just Rick and Michonne together.

And that night they start talking on a more personal level. They don’t divulge their life stories or anything because I don’t think they really deep-dived into getting to know each other like that until the second half of season 4. But in this conversation, they do open up just a bit more and give more insight into how they think and operate, which they refreshingly find to be quite similar. And in the areas they learn that they’re different - they find that refreshing too.

And I like to think that their talk on this one night was one of those things where -  you know how people say they were conversing with their person in the early stages of getting to know them and they just never wanted the moment to end and they could have stayed talking to that person forever and damn near do talk to them for more hours than they realized? It was like that. 

Rick and Michonne both know in the deeper parts of their psyche that spending that time together just felt right. Falling for each other is still something they're doing subconsciously rather than cognizantly at this point, but what they are aware of is that they do enjoy each other a lot. And how right it feels to spend time with each other also subconsciously scares them a bit. Almost like it’s too right too fast. So those walls go right back up after that conversation ends and they don’t really get a chance to talk on that personal of a level again until the prison falls.

Even though deep down both of them really would like to have that time together again, and low-key Rick is so eager for another chance to just be around her like that, that just hearing her riding back from one of her outings has him springing up from his farming session with Hershel in order to run and greet her and ask if she’s going to stay a little while. 

And that’s my take on what I think happened between Richonne in the time between season 3 and season 4. 👌🏽😌

And Anon, you know you’ve tempted me with a good time by asking to have a part two about the time between No Way Out and Richonne’s canon episode The Next World. So I'll try and have a (possibly less lengthy 😅) Part Two on the way soon. 😊

[xcziel]

has anybody else thought about how jk could easily manage sofia's parts of slow dance or is it just me?

[circeyoru]

Cuddles of Another Kind = Requested

[Lucifer x Reader x Alastor] - Headcanons

The Request

Lucifer and Alastor doesn’t see eye to eye. Full stop. Just look at their rival when they were bantering on who’s the better dad for Charlie

Now, you. Are you the luckiest sinner in Hell or the unluckies. It’s up in the air

You blame it on your weak heart to fall for such charismatic demons. Both of them make you smile and laugh like no tomorrow and they live for your smile and laughter. Both of them also make you feel comfortable and safe, something they hold in high regard and with pride

It was somewhat established that you were the apple in Lucifer’s eye and the muse to Alastor’s broadcast, with such big figures, no one fought for your attention or affection. When it came to choosing who, you couldn’t and surprisingly Lucifer and Alastor compromised

(It was after them losing track of you in the middle of their argument and competition, then you were kidnapped by some mafia that wanted to have the King of Hell and Radio Demon begging on their knees to their boss. They saw that the other wanted you safe and happy, so when it came to you, they’ll bend a little)

You are a physical touch type of romantic, you love touching your significant other some way (not suggestively). Whether it was handing hands, or leaning against them, or playing with their hair

You also knew Alastor loves his personal space and his aversion to physical touch initiated by others, so you would turn to Lucifer for such clinginess (Surely you should have also know Alastor wouldn’t mind you touching him!!!)

Alastor: Darling, where are you going? You: Oh, to find Lucifer, wanna cling to them all of a sudden, you know. Those urges to just hug or touch someone. No worries, I won't overstep your boundaries! Lucifer: My beautiful temptress, come to me!

It’s those times where some playful rivalry would appear

Charlie: The TV’s not working… Angel: Mister Smiley is not in the mood. Can’t ya heard the static? Vaggie: What happened this time? Husk: No “my beloved doe” to hug him, plus [Reader]’s with your dad Charlie: Oh…… Well, maybe we can cheer— Alastor: (even more static, they should have been quiet)

Alastor had to tell to your face that he was find with your touches and physical affection. Though it was more like showing you and whispering into your ear. “My dearest darling doe, why do you deprive me of my affections from your delicate hands. Now you need to double what you gave to that short king to me. Your time and your touches.”

After that it was cuddle times together. You even got a bigger bed from the two of them. So you three can lie there without pushing one another off the bed

Make room for Lucifer’s wings! It’s bigger than all three of you! But so fluffy! His wings act as the big spoon to cocoon you all

To make things fair, you sleep in the middle (obviously) and the boys sleep on either sides. Alastor’s head is laying on top of yours and hugs your sides while Lucifer sleeps on your chest to hear your heart beat, his legs crossing yours

Honestly, you don’t need your blanket cause it will get thrown over the bed’s edge by the time you’re awake. So Lucifer compromises with his wings to cover you mostly, the tips maybe covering Alastor

Overall, you can expect your cuddles to lull you to sleep because it was that comfortable and safe, even in Hell and with the most dangerous two demons so close to you. But you know they will never harm you

These cuddles are a privilege to you and you alone

Note: Hehe, headcanons are fun, short and quick~ Thanks for the request!

Circe Y.

Other works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

[who-is-page]

I've seen (typically older) therians talking about how they feel that their subculture as animal-people and nonhumans is slowly disappearing. This is a point that, in all honesty, I'm inclined to agree with-- although I think I'd perhaps frame it less as "disappearing" and more as just "changing."

Because let's be honest with ourselves here: is the subculture actually vanishing, or is it just evolving into radical new dimensions as excited newbies join and find different focal points for their nonhumanity? As they express themselves in whole new dimensions and ways, as they explore a digital landscape that didn't exist ten, twenty years ago? As the older members lose touch with the newer members, and no one bridges that gap between the two?

I think I'm also extra frustrated because when I see these discussions go down, a lot of the time they're either 1) self-pitying, or 2) finger-pointing.

It's not bad or wrong to look around and realize that the community you found comfort in has changed in ways you could have never predicted and which leave you feeling off-kilter. But approaching these changes with a complete lack of curiosity, with an absolute woe-is-me sort of perspective, where you drag your feet and glare bitter daggers at everyone else, isn't the way to do anything.

And going around trying to pin blame on whoever happens to be at hand is an even worse way to approach it. "It's the furry fandom's faults!" "It's the alterhumans' faults!" "It's the humans' faults!" Who does this approach realistically help? What does this do, beyond ostracize people and make whoever is saying it feel temporarily vindicated in their solitude, in a vicious cycle where they never step out of their ivory tower and always use how alone they are as "proof" that they're right?

I think having discussions about the ways the subculture has changed is extremely worthwhile. But I think that they're at their best when enthusiasm over sharing takes a main, central point. When you see people excitedly telling others about Werecards for the first time, or when you get to introduce someone to the concept of personal websites and webrings, or when you link someone who's only just starting to learn that there's others like them to old and new groups and forums alike. These are the ways you keep those traditions alive, these are they ways you get people both informed of and really excited about them.

And like, maybe I'm just cheesy and optimistic, but building bridges is way more fun than building walls! And more than that, I also think it's fundamentally something that's significantly more helpful and productive. I'm always so hype when I see community projects taking off that involve connecting many different people, especially if they're centered on a specific group or identity, but I also think that those sorts of things are how we keep a community healthy and moving, how we avoid things getting stagnant and rotting away.

I've said it before in past essays I've published and I'll say it again: alterhuman communities survive through their internal momentum. We're still around and kicking because we're a bunch of opinionated, passionate animals and objects and entities and people and concepts and and and-- this is what we are! This is how we all, both together and individually as separate groups, continue to be around. We write. We argue. We dance. We leave tracks. And then others see all those things, months or years down the line, and they know they're not alone. They know that it's okay to join in around the campfire, and they end up leaving their own tracks, and the cycle repeats.

So I guess what I'm saying here is that I'm not just beseeching people to create, but I'm asking you to create with others. To extend that paw towards the people around you in your immediate community spaces and wider, and to realize that yeah, the digital grains of sand and time might erode and change the landscapes we're all in, but we can still have a damn good time exploring the new nooks and crannies around us and showing others our old hidey-holes and favorite spots to watch the sun set.

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 5

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.5

“Hey, stretch. You here to play doctor?”

“I’d just like to interview you. I’m not going to touch you if that's what you’re concerned about.”

“Why not?”

“...ANYhow, I have a few questions for you.”

“Yes, I'm single.”

“Not those kinds of questions. Can you tell me your full first name?”

“Can you give me yours first?”

“Fiddleford.”

“Stan.”

“Okay, Stan. Where are you from? And don’t you dare say from my dreams.”

“Well yeah, I’d say ‘from your dreams’, not mine. Other than that, probably some gutters or a ditch somewhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“As far as I remember, I’ve been out on the streets, or in prison. I think I had a car at some point? But I dunno what happened with that, it makes my head burn trying to think about it.”

“Do you have any family?”

“No.”

“Do you remember ever having a family?”

“I don’t remember having one, but I feel like I had one before.”

“What do you feel like happened to them?”

“They probably got tired of my BS and told me to take a hike. It’s how it always goes with me.”

“That’s a theory you’ve put together. I’m asking what you feel like happened.”

“Feel like I had a dad who was waiting for an excuse to get rid of me. I feel like I had a mom who was a liar - I probably got it from her. Maybe a sibling or two? But they don’t want me around.”

“And what do you think about Stanford?”

“You mean the guy who drugged me, kidnapped me, and is keeping me prisoner in his evil basement sub-lab in the middle of the woods? I gotta say, he makes an impression.”

“But does he seem familiar to you?”

“I don’t think I could forget someone like him” 

“Is it because of his six fingers?”

“It’s twelve , and no, that's pretty normal compared to all of his other weird crap. It’s because he’s fucking crazy , and convinced I’m some mystery twin of his. But let’s stop talking about him, and talk about you instead. Are you single? You doing anything later?”

“Stay on track, Stan. Let’s take a step back and go back to talking about you. Have you recently gotten into any accidents or sustained major injuries?”

“Define ‘major’.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Judging by your friend's reaction to the stab wounds when we met, I don’t think your definition of major injury is the same as mine.”

---

"What did you determine, Fiddleford?"

"It wasn't easy to glean things because he would not stop flirting with me - was he always this way?"

"He was a little girl-crazy when we were younger, I didn't know he liked men. But that doesn’t matter right now, what were your findings?"

"He has full cognitive function. And based on your scans he has no signs of brain damage - comparing images of his brain to yours, his genetically identical twin, there isn't any morphological difference. Based on my interview, it sounds like he's never sustained significant head trauma neither.”

"But..?"

"If he really does have amnesia, it wasn't caused by a head injury."

"What else could it be?"

"A few things - perhaps he took a drug or substance that warped his brain chemistry. Or- more likely in my opinion, based on his lifestyle and what little history he tells me, he might have undergone extreme distress that caused a mental breakdown."

"Mental trauma can cause someone to lose their memories?"

"Our memories can be a shield and a sword, Stanford. Even good memories that can comfort you through a difficult time, can also cause pain and frustration when compared to a bad predicament.

He must have gone through something so traumatic that the only way his mind could cope with the stress was to... forget things. This is a phenomenon known as repression . Most of the time, a person would repress the traumatic event itself, but it looks like he’s defied the statistics and forgotten everything else instead.”

“He can’t be… that traumatized, right? This is Stanley we’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what he was like before, but he’s got a mullet, Stanford. There ain’t no way he's in a good place mentally.”

"And how would repressing memories about our family- about me , possibly help him cope with trauma?"

"If I'm going to be frank with you, this is the first time in the years that I've known you that you even mentioned having a twin brother . You've talked about other family members before, such as your older brother Sherman, but never him.

If his mind had to prioritize which memories to keep, why would it keep memories of someone he isn't close to?"

"We are- well, we were close."

"Were is a strong word, Stanford. Survival focuses on the present, not the past.”

“... What can we do to get his memories back?”

“I’m not a therapist. But perhaps if you can get him out of the survival mindset, he’d be open to some introspection.”

“So we must disable his fight-flight-freeze response…”

“Stanford Pines, I will throw that damn tranquilizer gun down the bottomless pit if you don’t put it down. Ya'll really need to stop using the slippery slope of science without consideration for morality like it's a damn seesaw. There are other ways to get him out of fight-flight.”

“Such as?”

“I would suggest you make him feel like he’s in a safe space, but that might not work.”

“Why not? He’s perfectly safe here.”

“But does he know that? From his perspective, you’re a stranger who shot him with a tranq dart and imprisoned in your basement for scientific exploitation. And I’ll remind you, this is all without his consent. He is here against his will.”

“It’s for his own good.”

“According to you, someone he thinks he doesn’t know. This may be your twin, Stanford, but he doesn’t know that. You need to gain his trust; maybe he would have trusted you by default in the past, but that isn’t the case now.”

“I… I’m not sure how to do that, Fiddleford. At one point, we knew everything about each other. And now I barely know him, and he thinks I’m a stranger. I’m still angry at him, and still bitter about what he did before he left home, and I’m disappointed in the conman and convict he turned into… but I’m sad, because he's convinced he’s not my brother.”

“You ain’t exactly the same person you were even when we first met all them years ago. People change. How about you try talking to him?”

“Just talking to him?”

“This may be difficult for you in particular, but you should try talking to him like he’s a person; and not a science experiment, anomaly, or an equation you’re trying to solve… Hey, hey don’t be looking like the last pea at pea-time now. I believe in you, you got this.”

“Thank you, Fiddleford.”

*Ford goes back downstairs to the lab. Fiddleford waits for him to be out of earshot before speaking*

“Bless his heart. This is going to be a disaster.”

To be continued…

[riniworld]

fulfil my wish

yandere!emperor oc x general!f!reader

warnings// obsession,yandere theme,mention of killing and blood,breaking bones,not proofread, let me know if i missed anything!

refrence// you,my love,flower,your majesty-honor, she/her

a/n//i don't actually know if all of this make sense-

it's been months since you've got married to taron,and you hated every second of it.

your place is in the field with a sword or in a war not in this luxurious life full of lazeness,but he prevented you from using the sword again saying it's too dangerous for an empress to go to the war.

in the start you didn't mind because you don't want to hold the sword against your home,but you can't handle it anymore when you couldn't even go out the castle.

your life start to become plain and boring,you literally had read the entire library.

whenever you open the topic with taron he close it immediately.

You've gave up on getting out from there and didn't argue about it more untill...

You have a younger sister who got married early to one of the soldiers who was under your wing, but he died in one of the battles so you took her and her children responsibilitys on you,You found a job for her to support herself and her children, and you visited them every month but after what happen you forget about her.

you were on your way to taron to give him some papers he had told you to bring because he forgot them in the room when you stumble on one of his correspondents telling him news about the empire and he mentioned something about your sister losing her job.

you had alot of questions first is that how does taron know about her? second Why does he receive her news? She doesn't even live here,but all those questions faded away when you realize you should go visit her.

You were jolted out of your thoughts when the door opened,the correspondent bow in respect and go.

taron smiled softly when he saw you "ah did you bring them already?"

you put the papers on his desk "what did the correspondent told you?" you asked like you didn't hear anything,maybe he'll told you what happen to your sister in details.

"Don't bother yourself with it, it's just normal news about the state of the empire"

you nod in acknowledge "I'll go now then,i need to do something"

"do you now? why don't we drink some tea together,We don't usually sit together" he took your hand and kissed the back of it

you pull your hand quickly "no thanks" then you left.

but then you stopped in your track,Why don't you get closer to him? Maybe he'll let you out the castle then? this idea hit you as you made your way back to him.

you opened the door aggressively "you know what let's drink tea together i don't have anything to do"

taron was confused as much as he was happy,did you finally decided to give him a chance?.

"sure,of course come sit" he said and pull the chair for you to sit on.

when you sat down he demanded the servants to bring two cups of tea in a rush

you sip from your cup in tense,since he sit down he kept just looking at you.

"your tea will get cold" you point out.

"hm?....ah yes,yeah right" he shake his head like he just come to his sense.

you roll your eyes when he wasn't looking.

he sip from his cup befor he speak "What is the reason for the sudden change in behavior,hm?....it's not like i'm complaining of course"

you pause thinking of a reason "...nothing really....I'm-just bored."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise "you're bored? Did the servants fail to bring you anything? do you need anything? should i punish someone?"

"whao there,it's nothing like that i just.....it's boring being here all the time"

he sigh "i don't like where this going to."

"why so? all i ask is a little walk in the cit-"

"no." he shuts you up immediately. "we've talked about that before,if you need anything I'll send someone to bring it to you."

"it's totally different! i need some fresh air"

"the garden is big enough"

"but it's annoying to be in the same place over and over again."

"look.." he say as he made his way to you taking your hands in his "it's all for your safety,we don't know what will happen if you set your foot outside the gates."

"i belive I'm more than capable of myself." you say in annoyance.

taron chuckle slightly "yes,i trust you can of course, let's just say i don't want anyone to see your beauty as well...If I didn't have to, I wouldn't let the servants see you at all"

"that's bullshit" you mutter under yout breath.

"i know you're not the type to stay in one place,but you'll get used to it"

you glare at him in anger and pull your hands from his.

taron sigh in frustration and ran his hand through his hair.

"is boredom the only reason that you want to go out?"

you stayed silent for a moment, "no...i want to visit my sister."

"...oh..you have a sister?"

what a liar,it taking everything in you to not punch him, "i do" you say between gritting teeth.

"don't worry about her,just tell me where is she and I'll take care of her." he smiled at you.

"no need, just let me visit her." you say in desperate.

"I'll think about it" he goes back to his side of the table "i would love to spend some more time with you but i have duties to attend" he say in an apologising tone.

you left the room without saying anything,knowing that it's just lies and he won't let you go.

you're laying down on the bed,you couldn't sleep last night thinking of ways to visit your sister.

Even if you can avoid the servants, you will not be able to avoid the guards outside.

you sigh and gets up to change,you'll think better in the fresh air.

When you open the door to leave, you're stopped by a guard standing at the door.

"please forgive me,your majesty,But it's orders you can't leave your room."

you scoff and get inside,that happened alot when taron get guests.

you sit beside the window looking out at the garden lost in thought,you heard rambling outside the door,that most be the servants busy providing hospitality,poor people.

but that when an idea crossed your mind,everyone busy with the guests,no one will notice you snaking out,And if you use a little of your power as an empress, you can leave, and no one will tell taron immediately.

you open the door again and cut the guard before he say anything "i need to use the lavatory."

the guard look between you and taron's guest room,you clear your throat to get his attention again "I'm sure taron wouldn't mind,in fact he might even get angry if he knew you didn't let me go." you feel a little guilty to use his fear against him but you know you had to,for your sister.

the guard stood in front of you in tense "as you wish,your majesty,but let me escort you."

you had no choice but to accept,now you're here in the toilet thinking about how to get rid of him.

You use one of the moves you had learned as a general,

You pull him in quickly as you apply enough pressure to the carotid arteries,while you cut off the blood flow to his brain, render him unconscious.

you mutter "sorry" and left,walking slowly to the outside gates you've bumped on one or two of the servants who questions you if you need anything or telling you that taron don't want you to go out now,but you brush it off by some excuses as he the one who told you to bring him something or you want something personal from a room.

You have successfully reached the outdoor garden, you made your way to the gates and the guards stopped you "sorry your honor but you are forbidden from leaving, it is the Emperor's orders"

you expected this to happen "I've been given permission to leave"

the guards look at each other and then one of them speak "excuse us but we have to ask his majesty about this"

"are you calling me a liar?" you say sternly.

the guard started to get tense and bow his head "i would never your honor!"

"it's-it's just for safety,your honor,so his majesty won't get upset" the other guard says shakly

"there's no need to disturb him right now,i belive my word is enough to go by,isn't it?"

the guards opened the way to you and shouted "yes of course your honor!"

it would be strange for you to go walking in this clothes in public so you take a trolley to escort you.

your eyes land on a clothes shop,it sells ordinary clothes just the thing you need so you told the trolley driver to stop by it, when you enter everyone star at you,not that they recognize you thank to taron's possessiveness, but because you look more like a royalty to buy something from a store like that.

you ignore the stars and whispers in your way looking for something more comfortable you can run in it if needed...or fight.

when you find what you want and wear it you head to pay but then realize that you didn't bring with you any money,cursing under your breath as you think of something you can pay by, your eyes landed on your ring,your wedding ring,it's not like you loved it anyway so you give it to the seller who look at you with shock but eventually take it of course even if it was too much for the price.

as you walk out the store,you tries to hide your face as much as you can so the trolley driver won't recognize you,when you get far enough you start to walk casually but fast trying to reach your sister as fast as you can before taron knows about your disappear and make a huge deal of it.

8:00p.m

it's been two hour when those shame of royalties has been here,taron grew annoyed,What they say is all bullshit to him,he could kick them out easily and for no reason but he doesn't want to deal with the drama that will happen... not now at least not when you finally softened up to him a little bit,his mood ease a little when he thought of you.

he wonder if you're asleep right now,and hope you're not, he want to spend some time with you again.

8:30p.m

oh finally they're gone!,taron bid them farewell coldly and fast he didn't even escort them to the gates but can they complain? they're lucky enough he even accepted to meet them and didn't kick them out by 5 min.

taron head to your room and got angry when no one stand at the door,didn't he set a guard here?.

he opens the door to your room slowly so he won't wake you up if you were sleeping,But all his annoyance changed to shock when he did not see anyone in the room he made sure to not let you out didn't he?!

taron shouted for the servants to come and by seconds three servants bowing on their hands before him,no one dared to left their head up not when their emperor is angry.

"i belive I've made myself clear to not let y/n left the room,haven't i?,so where is she now?" his tone is terrifyingly filled with coldness.

"We-we were s-s-so busy hosting that we didn't notice anyone leaving,your-your Majesty" one of them say shakly with terror.

"you useless insects!" he shouted "I'll deal with you later,go and prepare my horse and let some of those guards prepare themselves too...quickly!" he demanded.

the servants hurried to do what they had been told.

taron knew exactly where are you going to,if you only waited for some days, he was going to take you there of course he was, why would he prevents you from visiting your sister?? he was just going to make it a surprise but you had to break his words and now you ruined everything, he has to make you learn how to obey him even if he have to use power.

day later

it wasn't easy to left the empire the guards was everywhere, you even had to hide somewhere for like three hours.

but eventually you're out know and close to your sister's house it only take an hour walking.

.

.

.

you finally here after alot of trouble,you knock on the door and your sister opened the door real quick.

"ah-y/n! what-what got you here?"

you didn't answer instead you throw yourself at her and hug here tight,she return the hug but there was something strange about her, she sutter and seems like really anxious,you shrug this feeling off maybe she's still brokendown.

she guster you inside "I've heard about what happened" you say while sitting down.

"o-oh really? it's not a big deal...and i-i heard about your marriage" she brings some tea and biscuit to a table in front of you.

"ugh don't talk about that now,it's miserable..that sham of a man thinks he have the right to control my life or something"

"y-y/n ac-actually he's-"

"but it's true my love, i do have the right to control your life" someone cut your sister off, you recognize that voice, taron

you stand up in a defensive pose quickly wich lead to knock the tray off "what are you doing here?!"

"what? am i not allowed to visit my beloved wife sister?" he said with innocent tone.

you look at your sister with a questioning look,but what got you angry more is how your sister shiver in fear, what did he do to her?!.

"i swear to god taron if you've hurt her!" you warning.

taron only chuckle slightly "I've never heard you say my name,it's like honey when you say it"

you didn't replay don't want to go further with his playing.

taron's expression suddenly turned serious "now let's go back to the castle,and you're going to come with me obediently" he say coldly

you wanted to argue but your sister life is on the line,before you even replay he grabbed your arm and dragged you to his horse behind the house, he ride the horse at first and demand "ride" as you ride hesitantly.

The road to the castle was quiet and full of tension, you knew full well that there would be consequences when you return, but at least your sister was safe.

as soon as you reached your destination, taron took you by your arm forcefully and then threw you on the floor of the room.

you fall on your back hard but you swallow your groan,Before you lift yourself off the ground taron place his foot on your neck It chokes you a little.

"you broke my words,flower. i have to make sure you won't do it again." he say strangely calm as he tuck down and take one of your arms

the next thing you hear is a cracking noise,fuck he broke your arm.

you bite your lips to not scream and sound weak,All thanks to your training as a general,but you eventually let a little groan escape as he force more wight on it.

"you broke my heart,flower. The least i can do is break your arm,and this still not as much pain as I felt" with every word come out his mouth he twists your arm more "be thankful i didn't kill your sister."

with that he left you alone,you lift yourself up and embrace your arm letting out a few tears,it of course doesn't hurt like the battles injuries But this is the first time someone has broken your pride, and who did it? The person you hate most!.

you swear you'll get your revenge someday.

someone knock on the door,you gave permission to enter, the castle's doctor entered,she respectfully told you to sit on the bed so she cast your broken arm. (i guess it's like that?)

When she finished, she wished you a speedy recovery and left.

taron entered as soon as the doctor left,he looked at your arm for some minute before he exhale and sit down beside you.

"you lost that" He takes your good hand and place your wedding ring in your finger,a blood-stained ring,did he kill the clothes seller?!.

"you of course hadn't gave it willingly,so i brought it back to you, don't mind the blood it'll go easly with some soap" he was smiling, how can he smile when he just killed an innocent person!.

maybe the blood on the ring will remind you what taron can do without guilt, if you hadn't listen to him this would've been you sister blood.

he's terrifying.

finallyyyyyy

hope you like it :)!

have a nice day/night♡

[atopvisenyashill]

Out of curiosity, what are your personal headcanons and takes for Septa Rhaena and her relationships with her siblings and cousins? Was she cruel to Daena and Elaena similarly to how a lot of septas abuse women who don't conform properly to gender roles (George, a lot of nuns did cool things!)? Or was she one of the exceptions and was OK with it?

Well I do think George is gonna take um, probably some different avenues than me. I think Rhaena IS more likely to be a sort of “mean nun” type, because as you say George loves those, and he doesn’t really pay attention to his septa characters in f&b (we really lose track of rhaelle once she’s sent to be a septa, just one or two minor details after that, & we get very little of maegelle). but i also think he’s going to go straight up “naerys & aemon were in love” and im not into that. like, i’ve accepted that’s where it’s gonna go, im fairly certain i’ll still like naerys regardless of what happens, but MY view of naerys is To Me the better view of her aksjdj & it really informs how i view a lot of the era where viserys ii is still alive.

but getting into MY personal headcanons-

obviously becoming a septa feels like an outlet for her coping with the Maidenvault. Where Daena and Elaena both act out, Rhaena draws in on herself in an attempt to appease Baelor - if she’s perfectly proper, he’ll give her freedom. And it’s not even so stressful really, when she’s left alone to pray and sew and study scripture. She’s said to be meek and passive, so I don’t exactly picture her like Maegelle, in that she would ever play peacemaker between say Baelor and Daena. But at the same time, I suppose I want her to have some of the same spine as her sisters, or some of the same madness as her brothers.

I imagine, like, someone who never speaks up bc talking gets you ✨male attention✨ and she’s trying to avoid that specifically. It means she doesn’t berate Daena and Elaena for acting out, and I like to think she’s even There With Them as a tagalong though she’s not actively helping. For Elaena, this is encouragement. For Daena, it’s cowardice. Daena wants her to HELP and feels like Rhaena is no better than one of the guards. Elaena feels encouraged to keep being herself every time Rhaena silently locks eyes with her across the room. It doesn’t matter to Daena that Rhaena didn’t tell the guards about Daena sneaking off. It doesn’t matter to Elaena that Rhaena did nothing but pray when Baelor called her a whore after she cut her hair. And Rhaena doesn’t think either of them are harlots, she just feels like they’re fighting something they can’t win against. When she’s asking Daena to pray with her instead of sneaking off to make a scene in a wedding gown, she’s not saying “you’re a temptress” she’s saying “i don’t want them to cut your tongue out and send you to the silent sisters.” At the same time, when she’s holding up a mirror so Elaena can make sure her bob is straight, she’s not really saying “I think Baelor is in the wrong” because that’s not how she would conceive of it at all. I think Rhaena does disapprove of her sisters’ antics and Daena can feel that judgement, but also Rhaena sees her sisters are chafing in this environment and wants to ease their suffering. I think Daena and Rhaena love each other very much, but don’t understand each other, and eventually come to resent the other for not being ~open minded enough - to Rhaena it’s like, well, you know I can’t fight, you know i’m painfully socially awkward, why do you expect so much, why is who i am never enough. On the flip side, I think Elaena understands her sisters very well, but Rhaena never quite gets Elaena either. It doesn’t bother Elaena; she meets Rhaena where Rhaena meets her.

NOW. I think Rhaena and Naerys fucking HATE each other. I think they’d get thrown together a lot but the way they Do Religion is very different. Rhaena is out here praying for the Mother to soften Aegon’s heart to his wife, and Naerys is out here praying to the Stranger that Aegon chokes on his vomit in his sleep. Naerys very much believes that people who fuck too much are harlots, but she feels Daena was taken advantage of by Aegon in an attempt to escape, and AEGON is the harlot. He is an unholy man corrupting everyone around him and it’s not poor dear cousin Daena’s fault. Look at her, she wanted to be a maiden warrior - does that sound like a wanton whore to you? I think Naerys agrees with the stuff Rhaena is doing as a way to ~escape the lusts of men~ but when she’s hearing Rhaena pray to the Father to show Baelor the light and see his sisters are not sinful, Naerys is looking at her like “what the Fuck are you yapping about.” Rhaena simply believes Baelor is overprotective because he lived through the Dornish War and saw the worst of men. Naerys believes House Targaryen is being punished by the Seven and must be cleansed with fire. They go to the Sept at DIFFERENT TIMES bc Rhaena gets so nervous about what to say to her that she wants to vomit bc every time she tries to comfort Naerys, Naerys just glares at her and moves pews.

Both of them are in Elaena’s ear talking about how the other one is a huge bitch. Daena doesn’t talk about Rhaena with Elaena; some things are too painful. Rhaena DOES talk about Daena with Elaena, but for her it’s very much “i don’t know how to help her, i don’t know what she wants from me” sort of unloading that Elaena says little about. After Daena dies, Rhaena and Elaena talk about Daena CONSTANTLY; Rhaena feels guilt that she couldn’t calm her sister’s anger & needs to share about her, reminisce about her. I think she continues to live with Elaena (wherever Elaena may be) throughout her life, as best as she can.

[m00nsbaby]

Why'd you only call me when you are high?

Marc Spector x F! Reader.

Tags & warnings. Angst, unrequired love, mentions of addiction. (Alcohol.) A story made of tiny little pieces of other stories.

Word count. 3.3k

Summary. It became an exhausting routine, something physically draining yet mentally suffocating. It came to a point when you wondered how you were able to deal with this without collapsing every time things got worse.

You met on one of his missions, or perhaps one of yours; that point was never clarified.

You could barely exchange a few words until, for security reasons, both of you had to stay locked in a hotel room for two days, or maybe it was three, you weren't keeping track.

"Do you think about your brother a lot?" You questioned, looking up at the ceiling. You were on the bed with your feet towards the pillows, and Marc's legs were already numb from sitting on the floor, back against the edge of the bed.

You pulled a sigh from him.

Before the confinement, you probably would have thought it was an insensitive question to ask, but it turns out that after 12 hours, both seemed to have descended into madness enough to vomit your life stories to each other.

It almost seemed like a competition to see which story was worse.

"Yes." His gaze was fixed on the floor. "A lot."

"Do you feel like he's with you? Do you believe in those things?" The ceiling had started to form shapes in front of your eyes. Or maybe it was just your tired vision that had already memorized every mark on it.

"I don't believe in those things." It was so strange to hear his voice out of combat, it was sweet and velvety without losing that raspy undertone. "And if I did, I think RoRo would be mad at me."

"He wouldn't be, Marc." You preferred to close your eyes rather than continue forming false figures on the ceiling. "It wasn't your fault."

"I know." It was the last thing he said, not believing his own words.

"Would it be too risky to order room service?"

Marc looked at you, he was pressing his lips together to suppress laughter, and you had pushed yourself far enough onto the bed that your head hung off the edge of the bed. He could feel your hair brushing against him.

In his eyes, you were quite a character.

"Are you hungry?"

"Why do you ask like that?" You turned to look at him. He seemed upside down from your angle.

"We could've died like three times since we got to the country, and who knows how many more times once we get out of here."

"And what does that have to do with my hunger?"

"Aren't you scared?"

"Are you?"

"No." He was. Marc was always scared, but he never showed it, especially now that you were supposed to be a team. He wouldn't drag you into his anxiety when you seemed so carefree.

"Then neither am I."

He gave up, still looking at you.

"What do you want?" He broke contact with you only seconds later, as he got up to retrieve the room phone.

You understood much later that in those 72 hours together Marc talked to you about things he never shared with anyone else, and neither he nor you understood where that sudden trust between you two came from.

Perhaps it was just one of those times when two people click effortlessly, chemistry just happened, and both accepted it.

"Do you have a place to stay?" Both of you were a mess. Marc's curls, for the first time since you had known him (approximately 14 days), were a mess, although it suited him, making him look more carefree than usual.

You, on the other hand, had applied lip balm about 17 times in the last few hours, and every time you saw your reflection on any surface, you complained about the noticeable dark circles. At least the wound on your cheek was healing.

"Of course, I don't live on the streets." You got a laugh out of Marc, who responded as if it were very obvious.

"Are you sure? Because it looks like it."

He nudged you with his shoulder, and this time you laughed.

"I hate flying." The sound of his suitcase on the floor and the number of people walking back and forth around you were testing Marc's already limited patience.

"Is there anything you don't hate?"

"Doubtful."

"Hey, look." With your free hand, you pointed to the airport's food area. It turned out you had been walking for about 40 minutes trying to find something to eat. Marc was about to murder someone just to get a donut, or at least that's what he had said.

After seeing how the mission ended, you didn't doubt his words.

"Maybe it was worth it." He had an impressive ability to joke with a serious expression on his face and the most monotone voice you'd ever heard. "You know, the mission."

"For a donut?"

"For two donuts. Choose whatever you want, I'll pay."

"Are you going to spend two dollars on me? Marc, please, I can't allow that."

You talked little as you ate your donuts at your uncomfortable two-person table. As the time to leave approached, you began to feel weirder.

On one hand, there was the feeling of being at home, the relief of having survived one more mission, and knowing that today you would finally sleep in your own bed. On the other hand, you weren't a person with many friends; saying goodbye to Marc was going to hurt.

And you couldn't stop thinking that this would be the last time you saw him. He also didn't seem like the type to keep in touch after these things.

"So, are you going home?" The airport exit was getting closer, and you couldn't help but feel nauseous.

"Right now?"

"Right now."

"I don't know, I don't think so." He checked the time on his wristwatch. "I'll call my wife to see if she can pick me up."

Oh.

Oh.

"Ah." You tried your best not to seem surprised by the casual mention of his partner. You smiled forcibly and mentally wondered why the nausea had increased. "Well, good luck then, Marc."

You let go of your suitcase and didn't give him time to step back when you hugged him tightly. You were complete opposites, the girl who wasn't afraid to express her feelings and the guy who suppressed what he felt as much as he could.

Still, he hugged you back. His arms tightened around your waist, and you clung to his neck for a few extra seconds.

"Good luck." He whispered back, the tiny window of time where he could close his eyes and enjoy your scent one last time.

When you let go of him, both of you were abruptly back in reality, trying to put on your best faces for each other.

"I'll call a taxi, so I'd better hurry." Your hand returned to your suitcase as you took a step back, still looking at him.

You couldn't even fully turn around when he called you.

"Wait." He fumbled in his pockets until he found his worn-out phone, the one he used only for missions or to talk to Layla when the line where he was wasn't secure. "Do you have a personal phone number?"

You always wondered if Marc had intentionally avoided that part of his life, if he also felt strange being with you and that's why he preferred you to think he was single.

Turns out, contrary to what you thought, keeping your friendship afloat actually turned out to be quite easy. You didn't take long to exchange messages and calls.

It was a bit more complicated, as it turned out you lived in completely different ends of the city, and both of you were busy more often than you'd like. But you also managed to visit each other.

He came to your apartment first, looking like a little kid touching all your stuff and entering as if it were his own home.

"You drove here?"

He waved the crumpled bus ticket he still had in his pocket.

"So, are you staying here?"

"Or I'd have to leave in an hour to get there at a decent time."

"Touché." You smiled, his presence didn't bother you at all. In fact, knowing how difficult it would be to meet up, you preferred him to stay there for as long as he could. "I have a guest room."

That night you hardly slept. You seemed like little kids at a sleepover. You watched movies, ate junk food, and talked.

You talked until their throats hurt.

You talked, talked, talked about everything and everyone. You discovered that was what you liked doing most with Marc, talking.

At 5 in the morning, you both went to sleep, and just a few hours later, you were saying goodbye to him again.

It always seemed strange to you that he didn't live with his wife, although you swallowed the urge to ask. You didn't complain; it would have actually been quite awkward to stay in the same house as her.

The next time was your turn to go there, and the formula repeated with two small exceptions.

He took you to his favorite café before you both got comfortable in his apartment. He ordered for you, in fact, insisting that his recommendation would be better than anything you could choose.

Marc had only one bed in his small apartment. You refused to let him sleep on the couch, so you ended up sharing the bed, each on a different side. You knew you would think about that night more often than you'd like to admit.

You heard his phone ring a million times, and he didn't even glance at it. You weren't afraid to admit that if he was ignoring his wife for you, maybe you didn't have a problem with it.

A routine formed for you both. You saw each other at least once a week, both spending an exorbitant amount on travel back and forth, but your lives sometimes became so heavy that you both convinced yourselves you deserved a break.

Oh, and you had a label now. Apparently, for the past two months, you had been best friends, and things were going perfectly, with one small exception.

You didn't want him as a best friend, and your feelings seemed to grow stronger as time went on.

Strangely, things between you two got more complicated when he and Layla started having problems. You always thought it would be the opposite, that maybe if there was a bit more space between them, you'd get more attention from Marc.

Were your desires wrong? Yes, worse than wrong, in fact, but when you were with him, seeing him smile, you couldn't help but wish for their relationship to finally end.

"She hates you," Marc had said over the call, and you laughed, almost cynically.

"It's obvious she hates me, Marc. We spend a lot of time together."

"I think she has a point, you know?" You heard him take a sip of something.

Ouch.

"I know." You cleared your throat. "Maybe you're not giving her her place."

That was the first of many, and so began the agonizing task of having to act as Marc's emotional support. Since he wasn't willing to fully separate from you, he simply lived with the idea that his wife would be on top of him all the time.

"And what did she say afterward?" It was your script all along, lying on your back on your bed.

Your ceiling didn't have cracks or imperfect figures like the one at the hotel in Cairo.

"That I'm not giving her her place, again." Uhm, who would've thought. Just as you suspected. "She doesn't like that I can talk to you and with her it's just… No."

Your heart raced, and you could only cover your emotion by clearing your throat.

"Why not, Marc?"

"I don't know, it's… It's weird. With you, everything is so easy."

If only he could stop being so sweet for just 5 minutes, it would be easier not to be in love with him if he just chose to be a jerk.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I guess that's how having friends works." He chuckled, but it gave you a pang in your chest.

"Oh, yeah." You cleared your throat again. "I suppose so."

"What should I do?"

'Leave her.' You thought.

"Maybe talk to her. Tell her that we're not romantically interested in each other, right?"

"I've tried that before, she doesn't listen to me."

"Divorce?"

He laughed as if you had told him one of your best jokes.

"Don't be silly, that's never going to happen."

Marc wasn't foolish; he knew perfectly well about your feelings for him. However, he preferred to keep pretending that he simply didn't know rather than lose his best friend. He didn't even know what he would do if one day you weren't in his life.

The truth was, he had never formed such a strong and profound bond with anyone else, not even with Layla.

You learned to know a side of him that you didn't like. He had always been honest with you about his problem with alcohol, and the situation was that you had spent so much time with him while he was 'clean' that you started to believe his alcoholism was now under control, or whatever that might be called.

"She's going to leave me." You heard him sob on the other end of the line, and your stomach churned just hearing the fear reflected in his voice as he uttered those words.

You wondered if anyone would ever feel that fear of losing you too.

"You're drunk, Marc." It was all you could say. "She's not going to leave you; everything seems more dramatic when you're like this."

"I promised her I'd stay away from you." He confessed in the midst of a sip of whiskey.

Was he even aware of how much he was hurting you? Probably not, and you wouldn't be the one to remind him of it the next day.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and closed your eyes for a few seconds, forcing yourself to regain composure.

"Is that why you're not coming home anymore, Marc?" Your voice cracked, but he didn't seem to care.

"I can't keep hurting her." You bit the inside of your cheek; otherwise, you were sure you'd yell at him.

"Marc? I have to go to sleep."

"Of course, I… I'm sorry, really."

Your skin grew thicker from that night onward, as you accepted that there could never be anything between you and Marc. You had to forcefully digest the fact that his heart belonged to someone else, even though that truth had always been right in front of you.

You couldn't remember the last time Marc had called you just to hang out like you used to do in the beginning.

It was fun. A lot of fun. You would hear him doing things around his apartment, sometimes the creak of his bed as he dropped onto it to speak more comfortably, occasionally you'd watch movies together and discuss them, and once or twice, you fell asleep on the call.

Now, you dealt with the same thing every week – the same daggers stabbing into your heart because, as you saw it, it would be more painful not to have him in your life at all than to have just a part of him.

Besides, of course, your love came coated in a thick layer of concern; it was impossible not to, especially when you saw your best friend slowly deteriorating due to a relationship that seemed to be going downhill. At this point, you didn't even know if it was your fault or if it was simply happening because they weren't compatible.

You couldn't leave him alone, even if you wanted to.

"Are you drinking again?"

"Just a little."

You sighed heavily – that's all he heard from your end.

"I'd prefer if you insulted me." His voice was soft, for a moment, you swore you were hearing the Marc who adored you not too long ago. "Your sounds of disappointment hurt me more."

"I'm not disappointed."

"You are."

"I'm worried."

Another long silence from both ends.

"Would you rather I call you tomorrow?" Oh, Marc, running away from your feelings again.

"That would be fine."

"Okay. I love you."

You didn't respond and simply hung up the call. A horrible migraine had been killing you for the past two hours, since Marc started his speech of the day about why Layla deserved someone better than him but he refused to let her go because he was selfish, and blah blah blah.

Someday you had to explode, right? No one can bottle up their feelings for so long.

It happened while Marc was spewing another story about Layla and how everything was different when they first met. You wondered if it was a pattern for him.

"Marc?" You whispered, and he finally fell silent.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I have to tell you something."

A prolonged silence. Longer than you would have liked until he spoke again.

"No."

"Huh?"

"Don't say it. Please."

"Marc, I have to…"

"I beg you, I don't want to hear…"

"I love you, Marc." You broke when the words managed to escape your throat. He understood that even though you told each other that all the time, this was different for both of you.

"No, don't do this, please." He sounded almost as desperate as you.

"I love you so much, and believe me, I've tried not to." You spoke quickly before he could interrupt you or hang up the call. "But I can't, Marc, I don't know why."

"Y-You know I'm with Layla, you know I love her." Why did it sound like a reproach?

"I know! You remind me of it every night while I'm breaking into pieces." You sobbed, and his chest tightened. "I can't do this anymore, Marc, I can't."

Your sobs and laments were the only things that could be heard on the call for a few minutes as he tried to figure out the smartest thing to say.

The truth was, he was blank. Did you want him to lie?

"I don't… I…" He cleared his throat and tried to stay calm even though he was on the verge of losing it.

"I know you don't feel the same."

Thank God he didn't have to say it out loud.

"I-I don't need you to reciprocate." Were your hands trembling over this nonsense? You felt like a heartbroken teenager. You wanted to hit something to check if that would bring you back to sanity. "I need you to understand that I can't keep doing this."

More silence.

More damn silence.

"Okay." It was all he said.

You wished with all your heart that he would beg not to lose you as he begged every night for Layla not to go.

"Okay." You repeated afterward as you sniffled.

It was all so unfair. You were sure you heard your phone's screen crack when you hung up the call.

Though, you felt so shattered that the stupid glass in your hand was the least important thing to you at that moment.

Anyone would think that would be the end, but it turns out Marc Spector didn't give up easily.

And you understood he had not an ounce of fear of losing you. Marc feared not having someone to talk to at night, he feared not having someone to support him and tell him he was right, he feared loneliness.

So you, with your heart completely broken and your spirits shattered exactly a week later, answered his call.

You told him that Layla was worth it and that he needed to get his life in order if he didn't want to lose her. And you repeated that in the following weeks.

Or was it months? Who knows, you had stopped counting a long time ago.

[saintheartwing]

Analyzing Arcane: The Redemption of Jinx (MAJOR SPOILERS!!!)

I know when to admit when I'm wrong. And I thought Powder, or rather, Jinx...was just plain beyond help. It looked like she'd fully given into her worst self.

And then...Arcane, Season 2, shows me how wrong I was...with the introduction of Isha.

We get a tiny HINT it's not too late for Jinx when she actually HAS a chance to shoot her sister...when her sister comes looking for her in the arcade they spent so much time in, and picks up Claggor's goggles.

She's fingering it, lost in thought about the past, and Jinx cries. It's not just the fact that it's her sister and all her emotions about what's happened recently are flooding, she's probably also thinking about how what she did got her friends killed as she watches her sister hold one of the last remnants of her friend's memory. And she just can't do it. She can't shoot her sister.

She runs off and runs into trouble, and of all people...SEVIKA is the one who helps out. The two used to hate each other, but with Silco gone, the two bond over the mess he's left them in. The Underground's crime bosses are tearing each other apart and innocents are caught in the middle, and they have a hole left in their lives, cuz despite the fact that he didn't do much on his own...Silco had a way of bringing people together and uniting folks that kept order. Things were mostly under control...now they're not. Now, the rules are gone.

And it seems Jinx wants to die. She lets Vi and Cait track her down and they're obviously intent on killing her. And Jinx is just fine with Vi doing that despite an initial and vicious fight.

In truth, when it's clear Vi's won, Jinx is like "I'm glad it was you" and just lies there ready to die. Then...Isha rushes in to save her.

And this...this is how we see what Jinx really needs. Jinx's entire life she has been almost entirely dependent on others for what she needs because she can't exactly manage on her own. The trauma she endured in losing her parents had her relying first on Vander and Vi, then on Silco. Then without him...without ANY kind of support structure...any kind of love...

She just doesn't have anything to live for. Then, with Isha, things change.

Now, she's not building bombs. She's painting bugs and having them do fun little gladiatorial battles. SHE'S the big sister figure who has to be responsible. And while all of this is happening, the city of Zaun is seeing Jinx as a rebellion against the police state Piltover is becoming, using her blue hair as a symbol of uprising, stoked BY Isha who imitates Jinx to help further stoke the flames of rebellion.

Later, Isha gets captured along with a bunch of other Zaun residents and tossed into Stillwater Prison. Jinx goes with Servika to bust them out, and...they're all grateful to see her.

All of them are just so happy she busted them out, she's absolutely stunned. She's NEVER had so many people openly happy to see her. And she's touched. And then...

Then it gets back. Warwick, the werewolf-esque beast that mad scientist Singed's been basically working on in the background of the series gets let loose.

And frankly her gun is like a POPGUN to him, it barely does a thing. It looks bad, real bad...until...he recognizes two things. One...the bomb she's got in her hand when she tries to blow herself and him up together. And two...her face. Her hair. Her eyes.

And he says one word that has Jinx realize the truth. The awful, yet still hopeful truth.

"Powder?"

Yes.

It's Vander. Jinx realizes her father figure isn't dead. She goes to Vi to tell her all about it, realizing that if Vander is TRANSFORMED but still able despite everything to recognize HER...then perhaps all the damage that was done all those years ago, maybe it's not impossible for it to be fixed. They can still be a family. It might not be what it was...but it'd be having her father back. Her sister back. And when they eventually find him in the mines, Vi actually reaches through to him.

I just about broke out crying here. They are a found family once again. Naturally, they want to try and cure their dad OF him being all big, furry and with violent tendencies, and luckily, Victor has a commune of people he's been healing of terrible wounds. He can make the blind see and the lame walk and all that, and he's happy to welcome Vander in, seeing him as perhaps his biggest test. He's a bit more...creepy cult leader but his compassion hasn't changed. For once, the sisters have hope. Vi even suggests "hey maybe we could stay here in this commune, it actually seems really nice" and Jinx is like "Wait...you WANT my opinion"? She'd been afraid Vi wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Now though that Vander seems like he'll be back to his old self, AND she has her sister and Isha though, Jinx is actually happy.

The selfishness she had inside her simply needed to be balanced out with a real support structure. She needed to know she was loved. She needed to know that Vi WOULD never give up on her. That love won't change. Nothing can change that bond, not ever.

Sadly...things end horribly. Singed comes by and he's brought Ambessa AND the Noxian army with them...just as JAYCE has come round. As we find out later on, Jayce has basically been to a bad future and he's seen what he thinks happens if Viktor is allowed to just keep doing his cult stuff...his idea of healing people will actually allow Hextech to overrun all of Piltover and BASICALLY ANNHILATE EVERYTHING into a kind of watercolor painting nightmare. The only way to stop it...is to kill Viktor, who's mentally STILL trying to heal Vander.

So Singed stops the curation of Vander AND with Victor being almost killed by Jayce, Vander is tragically lost in the beast of Warwick, and he's going wild. Worse still, there's only one way they can get away from him AND the Noxian forces, as Isha has gotten hold of the gem cores that have so much magic power...the ones which can EXPLODE. She loads three into Jinx's gun, dives under Warwick, and...

...well...

The good news is our heroes get away. The bad news is Jinx has now lost her father again, AND lost Isha. She is at her absolute lowest point.

She's not eating. She's so dirty and not bathing. Her hair is growing overlong. She even apologies to Cait saying that she never meant to kill Cait's mother, she didn't know she was even in the tower she fired on. Not that it excuses what she did.

Her inner voice in the form of Silco, now with a blue eye to contrast against the orange eye he had in real life, tells her that killing is a cycle. It's only stopped...when someone gets the courage to finally walk away. Jinx feels that he's right. There's only one way she can break the cycle. There is no "Good version" of her. She should die.

But who should show up? The "Boy Savior". Ekko.

Ekko has been VERY busy. Thanks to an experiment with Jayce and Heimerdinger, they got tossed into alternate timelines. In the one he and Heimerdinger ended up in, although Vi died...basically everything went great. Zaun got full freedom, it's basically utopian, his father figure Benzo AND Vander are alive, in fact Silco and Vander made good and they're still friends. Claggor and Mylo are inventors. POWDER is one too and she's...well, CUTE! He actually got a kiss with her on the rooftop they spent so much time at as a child. It's heartbreaking and touching. And he's there now with a "gift"...the work of him, Powder and Heimerdinger in that timeline...a device that sends you back four seconds in time. Though any damage done to you remains.

And so Ekko talks her down from the edge. "No matter WHAT happened in the past, it's NEVER too late to build something new".

She notices the device...and she sees those monkeys. She knows full well SHE didn't build that...though in a way she did, and I think she puts two and two together seeing his time travelling machine. And she makes the choice to fight for Piltover and Zaun against the oncoming hordes of Noxians, fighting alongside her sister.

Thanks to Ekko's time-travelling abilities, Jayce, Jinx, Cait, Mel, all our heroes manage to succeed. But Vi, seeing Vander in the state he's in, can't bring herself to just leave him...which is a mistake. Vander seems basically gone...and so Jinx sacrifices herself to save Vi.

Seemingly blowing herself and Warwick up, though it's implied at the VERY, VERY end that perhaps she's NOT dead, because a zeppelin flying off is the last shot. A zeppelin JUST like the one Powder said one day she'd be flying in...

With THAT...as "The End"..

So...the bottom line of the show being that if you're willing to change and make yourself better...you CAN be. It isn't too late for you. Though you cannot do it on your own. People need to be surrounded with those that love and care for them to give them that final push sometimes, and that's a good thing. The whole season two has shown that if Jinx had the love and care of those who she loved and cared for...she could be the "better version of her". And seeing Vi would never, ever give up on her gave her the strength to be that.

I've never been so happy to be proven wrong about a character. Thank you, Riot Games, and thank you, Fortiche, the French studio that made the beautiful animation for this amazing series.

Seriously, folks. Go watch this on Netflix. PLEASE.

[smtown-tourist]

Ever since the AMIGO practice video dropped, it’s been going around again how killer SHINee’s live performance skills are, but what I don’t really see much of is people discussing why. Why are SHINee’s live performance skills so good? How were these five ROOKIES able to outshine their seniors in a skill they’ve been doing for so much longer?

The answer is simple: Timing. SHINee, as rookies, learned the valuable skill of timing when it comes to performing live.

Now, I know what you might be thinking: of course they’re good at timing - how else are they gonna be able to stay on track? And you’re right. It does seem like an obvious answer yet I don’t think you realize how important timing plays into singing and dancing live.

We all know that it’s hard to keep your voice steady when dancing, but what SHINee has learned is to make their voices flow with the choreography. In order to do that, it’s all about rhythm and timing. If for even a fraction of a second their timing is off, it’s going to throw off their rhythm, therefore throw off their ability to steady their voice. Same goes for timing when they need to breathe. Singing and dancing is a cardio workout. If they can’t time their inhales and exhales correctly, then they’ll be out of breath and unable to sing when their turn comes.

A lot of that has to do with the structure of the choreography. It’s been analyzed before that K-pop choreographies will be structured in two ways: either based on the rhythm of the instrumentals or the rhythm of the lyrics. SHINee’s choreographies, if you’ve ever paid close attention, often have the dance moves lining up with the rhythm of the lyrics. Sometimes all three will line up, but not often will you find their choreographies solely following the rhythm of the instrumentals. Again, that is because it’s harder to keep your voice steady when your voice isn’t following the movement of your body. It’s a balancing act, and what happens if your timing is off? You lose that balance, i.e. your voice becomes unsteady.

This is also why SHINee is always able to stay so in-sync when performing: because of their timing. It becomes a domino effect if they get their timing wrong. It’s not just about staying in-sync with one another for aesthetic purposes, it’s making sure they have the timing right so that their voices can flow with the choreography and they can breathe at the required times. Timing is the aspect that binds everything together.

So, yes, SHINee are great singers, great dancers, great at being in-sync, and have great breath control and those things combined together are what make them such great live performers. But those skills would be useless if it weren’t for their ability to time everything correctly.

I hope my analysis shed some lights on things, and if you were already aware of everything I stated above, great! I’m glad we’re on the same page. Of course, this is not meant to bash any of the hard work SHINee put in to perfecting their vocals, their dancing skills, their teamwork, any of that. It was simply an observation that I made to help everyone look deeper than the surface level of a performance.

Sometimes I think we get a little swept up in the theatricality of K-pop to realize that so much more goes into it and knowing the timing of every tiny piece is what binds it all together. SHINee has mastered the art of timing, which is what allows their talents to shine the way that they do on stage. In my opinion, it’s truly remarkable and shows their dedication to perfecting their craft.

[domoz]

Hmmm okay prompt: premise: people can, once in their lifetime, basically will the universe into granting whatever is their soulmate's greatest wish at the time they do this. Shinobi will usually save this to use as a get out of death free card (which USUALLY works, because "survive" is a pretty strong impulse when you're about to die, but not always), riches are common, as are the deaths of abusive bosses/parents/etc.

...we all know what Tobirama's greatest wish has nothing to do with being alive himself. So now they're about to die AND have to deal with Kawarama and Itama (plus or minus Hashirama depending on when you set it) who have no idea what's going on.

Oh Youve Done It Now

It's been years since Tobirama has felt this chakra. Longer still since it's been turned towards healing him.

Even with it, his whole body aches. Exhaustion piled upon exhaustion, and he'd lost track of his injuries very early into the fight. He knows only that it hurts to breathe, yet his body stubbornly continues to do it despite each inhale rattling inside of him.

He must be dying, he thinks. His mind has conjured up some fantasy to comfort him as his life fades.

"I know you're awake, otouto." Hashirama's voice, in the same tone he'd use when one of his experiments was particularly troublesome -- exasperated, but ultimately unable to hide his worry. "I'd really like an explanation."

"I think I might have one." That voice would be Hikaku's, who should not be anywhere near here, and so the one whose presence only cements this as a strange dream. "Your brother, even on the verge of death, has only ever wished for one thing."

Silence stretches, the whole world is silent and muffled except for the sense-memory of sunlight through trees as Hashirama's chakra knits together bones.

A sigh. "He did warn me. Though I suppose this did work, in its own way."

"Wait, Hikaku-san, you--"

"But you're an Uchiha!" A voice Tobirama hasn't heard in many, many years shouts. It's enough to have him forcing his heavy eyelids open -- even if it's not real, he needs to see--

Hashirama is leaning over him, curtain of hair blocking out most everything else as he heals the crater that Tobirama's chest has become. He looks younger than he did when he died, though not overly so; a snapshot from those few years when he'd gained laugh lines but not yet stress wrinkles around his eyes.

"Don't sit up." He warns, his voice is stern, but there's something fragile in his eyes, "And don't infuse chakra, or I'll knock you out again."

He wouldn't even have to make good on the threat; Tobirama would probably lose consciousness for even trying.

"'nija." He says. Is all he can make himself say between the pain and the tightness of his throat. Hashirama smiles tightly and leans back -- enough for the two figures taking refuge behind him to lean around and look at him with wide eyes.

"Wow, aniki. You got old. What happened to your face?" Kawarama.

Whether he's referring to the red slashes that Tobirama had only made after his death or one of his other injuries, he doesn't know. It doesn't matter, really.

Tobirama's eyes burn. His instinct is to look away, to hide his face, but he doesn't dare.

"That's mean, nii-san. He's hurt." Itama is grabbing onto Hashirama's robe with one white knuckled fist and Kawarama's wrist with the other. The two of them are the same age that they were when they died, the same way that they've been frozen in Tobirama's memories. Kawarama was born first, but brought back like this, Itama has a year and a few centimeters of height on him.

Kawarama makes a disapproving noise -- his eyebrows are furrowed like they did when he was worried and trying not to let it show. He glances obviously to the side, scowls at what he sees, then puffs out his cheeks and steps out of Hashirama's shadow. He doesn't go far -- only to get close enough to sit by Tobirama's head and tug at his hair -- but Itama lets himself be dragged behind and releases his grip on Hashirama to pick up his hand instead.

I missed you. He wants to say. I missed you, I'm sorry, I missed you. He knows better than to leave things unsaid, sucks in a breath to try, and it's agony. Blood stains his teeth; his vision greys and Hashirama is saying something that runs through his ears without registering. His chakra swells until Tobirama can taste it on the back of his tongue,  until it drowns out the pain behind its own presence.

He loses time. Kawarama is petting at his hair now, and Itama is mapping the scars on his hands, but both of them refuse to settle, eyes flicking up to watch some threat. Tobirama is in no state to defend them if they should need it, but he forces himself to move despite the pounding weight of his head and look.

They are, he belatedly realizes, in a dome of mokuton vines, and sitting against the far wall, hands visible on his knees, is Hikaku. And he knows why his brothers would be wary of him, but after all these years Tobirama can't see him in that light any longer.

The Uchiha smiles wryly.

"I followed as soon as I heard where you were headed." He says. "No point in having a wish that never gets used."

"So you really are soulmates." Kawarama grumbles. And Tobirama wants -- he wants to promise Kawarama that Hikaku won't hurt him. That no harm will ever come to him again. But with a slow, choking panic, he realizes that he does not even have the strength to turn his head and see him again. He squeezes Itama's hand instead, fingers trembling.

"We're at peace now!" Hashirama says, leaning back from where he was holding his hands over Tobirama's chest to wipe at his brow. Tobirama can see a sunny smile in the corner of his eye. "Just like we used to talk about."

"...Uhm." Itama says after a beat. "If we're at peace, then who were those guys you were fighting?"

"Aah, that's, well--" Hashirama glances at Tobirama first, and then remembering that he's in no state to speak turns to Hikaku instead.

The Uchiha sighs, with that slight twist of a smile that means he thinks something is ridiculous but he won't say it.

"That was supposedly one of Kumo's best squads. Your death was enough of a perceived weakness that Suna started making aggressive action to claim more land. Kumo and Iwa started targeting our shinobi shortly afterwards…"

It's a basic summary of the political situation that Tobirama has been living with for years now, and he tunes it out without quite meaning to.

All of his most important people are here, are with him. It's a nice enough sentiment to die to.

--

It's dark.

Tobirama feels like he's withered dry and might crack apart into dust if he so much as moves a muscle. The pain of breathing isn't agony, anymore, at least. More an aching pulse that rises and ebbs with each breath.

He's horribly disoriented for a long moment --truly dead, now? -- he's lying down, something soft placed over a hard uneven surface, there are two tiny motes of warmth curled up on either side of him, and there's a conversation going on above his head.  That's probably what woke him.

"I should have known he wasn't over his prejudice against your clan." Hashirama sighs, "I'm sorry--"

"I'm not going to pretend he's our greatest ally, but I don't think you would have been able to do much better." Hikaku cuts him off sharply. Having lived past the age that Hashirama was when he died, he has apparently decided to abandon the deferential respect that he used to have. "I'm certain he would love to let us fight -- keeping them back is my choice. The countries we are at war with have no laws against eye theft. They have bounties for each bloodline they can take, and ours is the highest."

Tobirama blinks, but there is no moonlight for him to see by. They'd tried to make it work. Barbaric as the Hyuga seal is, it is useful; but no matter the modifications Tobirama makes to it, Hikaku cannot get his clan to agree to use it, and without it his clan members are all targets too tempting for their enemies to leave alone. But why is he telling Hashirama this…?

"We have as much sway as any other clan in the council. You are the one who named your own brother as a successor, and got half of my clan convinced they needed more power or risk being destroyed."

Hence the military police plan, and Tobirama isn't certain it will help much. If the Uchiha can't fight on behalf of the village, fighting within it is about the only thing left for them to do -- he figured he might as well at least make it productive.

"You know," Hikaku continues, voice flat, "There was a faction of my clan that wanted to follow in Madara's footsteps. We're all trying our best, Shodai-sama."

There was a plan to assassinate him, which Hikaku dealt with before it could become public. Tobirama is thankful for that, but it has left his soulmate deeply unpopular within his clan.

This feels like a very strange way to have one's life flash before their eyes.

"I… see. I apologize. I'll speak with Tobirama before making any more assumptions." Hashirama says, clearly cowed. There is a long moment of silence, then, "…Do you truly call him by his title? When the two of you are soulmates?"

"He refuses to ruin what little authority I have over my clan by acknowledging it publicly." Hikaku's tone is harsh, now, though if he has an issue with that he's never brought it to Tobirama's attention.

A moot effort now, Tobirama thinks muzzily. Hikaku might be thinking that too, from the way he sighs.

"Tend to your brother, Shodai-sama. I'll keep watch."

The wave of chakra his brother sends over him sends Tobirama into a darkness of a different kind.

--

When he awakens again he's horribly nauseous. The weightlessness of open air alternates with a dull shock that sends a jolting ache through his body every time it happens. It's manageable; Tobirama could fight through this, if he had to.

But he won't have to. Hashirama has him, one arm secure under his knees, the other his neck, holding him tight to his chest to try and mitigate the impact of each jump.

He's moving much slower than he should be, if his goal is to get an injured person to safety.

Tobirama peels his eyes open, squinting in the wind as the treetops whip past overhead. He has enough strength in him now that he can reach up and grab at the front of his robe, though he grunts from the effort.

"Anija." He rasps. There was still so much left unsaid between them at the end. Enough that Tobirama doesn't even know where to start, aside from the obvious, "I'm--"

"Oh Tobi, good! Hashirama doesn't even seem aware that he's cut anything off. "He's awake!" He announces over this shoulder, and drops from the trees to the ground, landing with a thump. Hashirama is obviously trying to muffle the impact, but it makes him twitch and hiss in pain regardless.

He's healed enough now that when Hashirama  goes to set him down against a tree trunk he can keep himself upright, but not without his arms shaking from the effort.

"We still really shouldn't be moving you." His brother comments idly as he sends a light pulse of diagnostic chakra through his system, "I really wish we'd been able to use a stretcher. And you're going to take forever to recover your chakra after how much I had to dump into you. But if you actually rest when we get home, you should end up alright."

His hands flutter around until he finds a water skin -- Uchiha mon stamped on, so it must actually be Hikaku's -- and shoves it in Tobirama's face. He's able to get a grip on it enough to hold it himself -- the water is stale but the he relief of it sharp, settling over him like a blanket.

"Hikaku-san went ahead to alert everyone as soon as we got into safe territory." Hashirama chatters on, "There should be a patrol coming to meet us. You really had us worried there for a minute!"

As he talks, Tobirama's eyes don't move from the two figures that have landed behind Hashirama and are peering over his shoulders.

"Seriously." Kawarama says, "I don't think you've ever slept that long."

"I--" Tobirama chokes out, "I haven't died, have I?" 

"No." Itama says, eyebrows knitted together.

"You'd better not have." Kawarama echoes with a scowl

"You're the only one here who hasn't!" Hashirama smiles, like he's made a joke, but it slips right back off his face at whatever he sees when he meets Tobirama's eyes.

"Oh, Tobi…" He says sorrowfully, but Itama beats him to whatever he's planning on doing, darting around Hashirama and carefully but forcefully wrapping his arms around Tobirama's neck. Not to be outdone, Kawarama squawks and secures a hold around one of his shoulders.

Tobirama's eyes burn, and he buries his face into a bony shoulder, so he's not able to see when Hashirama moves to pull all of them into his arms. He's lived long enough that the grief of their deaths had scarred over, but this has ripped the wound gaping open wide.

"It must have been lonely." Itama says, voice muffled in Tobirama's fur.

"We're here now though." Kawarama insists. His voice wavers so he buries his face in fur, too.

“Yeah.” Hashirama agrees, chin resting on top of Tobirama’s head. “We’re all here, now.”

[notoriousbeb]

Why is Harry Styles All Over TTPD? A Timeline

TTPD Notes Glossary

Upon much ponderation and rabbit-hole-ing I think a truly stunning chunk of tracks on this double album (20) are her processing her feelings for whatever the hell happened with Harry.  

What will likely be my Haylor magnum opus is under the cut because it is a bit lengthy. Good luck. Or I'm sorry??

I think they both pined for each other for years (well documented amongst the Haylors).  

Then she split with Joe Alwyn before she left London for the Eras Tour, but she waited to make the announcement public (probably to give him time to pack up his shit and get out of their shared house) until April 8. However, excited to be “Fresh Out the Slammer,” she reached out to Harry ASAP.  

I realize I might sound like an absolute raving lunatic, but I legit think Harry was at Taylor’s Arlington, Texas, Eras Tour shows, at the end of March/beginning of April 2023, and followed her to New York City for several days. 

While Harry was tied up finishing up the Asian leg of his tour until March 25, I think he came almost straight to her after that, and love-bombed the shit out of her in his excitement.

But then right before he had to leave for tour, with a stopover in LA for the Satellite video and Late Late Show shoots, he gave her some sort of pulling-away speech about taking a pause or pulling back or something, (I’d wager because of the two world tours), which she took as a total rejection, which caused her to lose it and move on to the disaster we call Matty. 

Then, in June, he met Taylor Russell in London. And maybe they were just friends at first, but then Taylor Swift started messing around with Matty, and then in July she started dating Travis and it went public in September. So, I suppose at that point Harry figured, "Okay, to hell with it."  

And now, somewhere in London, I imagine their shared good mate, Ed Sheeran, has a pounding headache and wishes he still drank whiskey.  

I hope the truth of it all someday comes to light in a tell-all book or movie. Or, at the very least, it would be nice if some more clarity surfaces in one of their albums, or a record by Ed.  

Oh, and I think Stevie Nicks, of all fucking people, knows the tea. She considers both of them “like [her] children.” She gave them both matching crescent moon necklaces. And has performed with them. And she wrote the intro poem for this record. Read that and tell me it doesn’t match the story I’ve written in my head. Stevie knows.

And now, the timeline. @foxes-that-run Also has a much more detailed 2023 timeline that I recommend.

There are, I shit you not, about a fortnight of possible days (March 29/30-April 12, 2023) where they could have been together...

March 29/30

Harry likely leaves Toyko after his March 25 show. Love on Tour doesnt start up again until May 13 in Horsens, Denmark.

March 31

Eras Tour is in Arlington, Texas, for N1. It's a rain show. She replaces "Invisible String” with "The 1." The surprise songs were "Sad Beautiful Tragic" and "Ours." Read all my notes on TTPD and go watch these two live performances again. They're...really something.

April 1

She sings "Death by a Thousand Cuts" and "Clean."

April 2

She sings "Jump then Fall" and "The Lucky One."

April 3-6

Neither of them are seen these three days.

April 7

Harry is spotted at baggage claim in Atlanta

April 9

Harry is at the Master's Golf Tournament

April 10

Maybe this is when he leaves her. Taylor goes out for drinks with Jack and Margaret. However, this was an obvious pap walk (the day she had those butterfly jeans on); were the paps maybe called to this location to lure them away from her apartment so a certain person might or might not have could arrive unnoticed after a golf tournament in Atlanta?

April 12

In the afternoon, Harry is spotted with his trusty brown duffel bag (sporting an air travel tag) leaving the gym in LA. In NYC, Taylor is pictured on the roof of Electric Lady (maybe shooting music video?) with a Gucci lion ring just like Harry's but with a green stone. I Mr not the 10th, I think this evening was when he said whatever he said that made her so sad; maybe he thought they should take a pause until their tours were over? Maybe he decided their combined spotlights were just too big to overcome? Who knows? Not me. But my nosy ass wants to know!

April 13

Eras Tour in Tampa N1. Taylor cries during “Lover"

April 14

Eras Tour in Tampa N2. She plays "The Great War" (performed with Aaron Dessner) and "You're On Your Own, Kid."

April 15

Eras Tour in Tampa N2. She plays "Treacherous."

April 21

Eras Tour in Houston N1. She plays "Wonderland" and "You're Not Sorry" (these choices seem…significant. In a not good way.)

April 22

N2 in Houston. She plays "A Place in This World" and "Today Was a Fairytale" (for her mom, who I am sure was being a rock for her at this trying time)

April 23

N3 in Houston. She plays "Begin Again" and "Cold as You"

April 27 and 28

Harry does shoots for the "Satellite" music video and the last episode of the Late Late Show. The scenes for the music video aren't used. In my opinion his face looks puffy on Late Late (maybe from crying?)

Eras Tour Atlanta N1 Taylor sings "The Other Side of the Door" and "Coney Island."

April 30

Eras Tour Atlanta N3 she sings "I Bet You Think About Me" and "How You Get the Girl." She cries again during “Champagne Problems."

May 5-7

Ah, the Nashville Era's Tour shows. Such fond, fond memories. She sang “Sparks Fly,” “Teardrops on My Guitar,“ "Out of the Woods,” “Fifteen” (Abigail was there, and she dedicated this one to her)," Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve” with Aaron Dessner and “Mine” (also Speak Now drop).

May 11

Dinner with Matty and Jack and Margaret at Casa Cipriani in NYC

Is it possible the villainy of Matty is that he planted the original story in The Sun that he and Taylor were dating? It ran May 3, two days before he showed up (from Asia) to the Eras Tour play with Phoebe Bridgers as the opening act in Nashville. I just always thought that was odd. Maybe he had a big fat mouth.

May 12

Eras Tour Philadelphia N1. She played “Gold Rush” and “Come Back…Be Here” (Aww, girl….)

May 13

LOT picks up again in Horsens, Denmark. He's smiling to himself all cute like during "Fine Line." Plus he played "Stockholm Syndrome" for the first time in yeeeears and looked delighted. :(

Taylor's surprise songs were “Forever & Always” and “This Love.”

May 15

Either way, she leaves Electric Lady studios with Matty in tow.

May 19

She plays "Should've Said No" and "Better Man." (Well, that's seems...not good.)

May 20

Ah, the day of the “Question…?” and “Invisible” combo. (Oh, Tay). Matty is seen entering Taylor's apartment with a big Louis bag full of what many people believe is the typewriter. I always assumed it was clothes or a synthesizer or some kind of equipment. ¯\_(ツ)_/

May 25

This is the last day she was seen with Matty (and the chorus of angels sang)

But, really, only he was seen outside her apartment leaving with his stuff. She wasn’t in town. 

They were never seen together again after May 15. 

May 26

Era's Tour Metlife N1. She sings “Getaway Car” with Jack Antonoff and “Maroon” (this was a very angry face Maroon).

May 27

Metlife N2. She sings “Holy Ground” and “False God," and cries.

June 22

Taylor records “The Black Dog” at Electric Lady. “Six weeks of breathing clean air,” if we’re being specific here (although she was touring and it could have just sounded good) would be May 11, 2023.

August 13

Stevie Nicks owns the opening poem for the album.

[formula1fanfiction]

Toto Wolff / George Russell

Title: The more you say, the less I know

Pairing: Toto Wolff / George Russell

Characters: Toto Wolff, George Russell, Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc

Prompt: Can we pretend that George being sick in Abu Dhabi was actually the start of his heat but he's the only omega in the paddock and when Toto smells him he begs George to let him HELP. Thank yu

George feels like death once he finally steps out of the car, he honestly doesn't know how he survived this race without a crash and somehow managed to secure a podium.

His heat has been threatening him the whole weekend, he had tried everything to stop it coming but nothing has worked and it looks like it's finally here. Maybe it wouldn't have mattered as much if he wasn't the only omega on the grid.

Oh and the fact he's been lying about being a Beta.

He quickly swallows the scent blockers Aleix has given him and makes his way to the cool down room. He just wants to get those over with then he can go back to his room and spend his heat with his toys.

George sits as far away from Charles and Max as possible, he probably would have on a normal day considering the way those two give each other bedroom eyes, although it had always surprised him that Charles and Max are together and not Pierre and Charles. George coughs as he sits down, both drivers give him a strange look .

"What?" George coughs again as he sits down. Max is smirking at him while Charles looks absolutely disgusted in him. "Did you fuck someone?" George chokes on his water. "What?"

"You smell like a bitch in heat." Max laughs, while Charles narrows his eyes. "Yes, it's affecting me as a Beta." George's heart pounds out of his chest. "How can they still smell him?"

"You're a Beta too, right?"

Charles knows?

Charles Knows!

"Yeah." George chokes out with another cough, a whole wave of slick leaks out of him, it's a good thing he's in his race suit, because he feels like he's pissed himself through his fire proofs.

Who was he kidding with scent blockers? He's way too far gone for that.

The podium celebrations happen without any further incident, he manages to stay a safe distance away from Charles and Max and his scent is covered by the smell of champagne.    

The problems start once he finally gets back into his garage. Toto comes over to congratulate him on securing second in the constructors championship. George knows he can smell his sweet omega scent, when his team principal's eyes dilate until they become fully black. "George." Toto growls, gripping George's forearm. George roughly pulls away and makes a run for it before he becomes too far gone and begs Toto to take him right here in the garage. Denying his body what it really wants.

George whines as he enters the safety of the toilet cubicle, he slides his back against the door and pulls his knees up to his chest. He's sticky with heat and the ungodly amount of slick he's produced. He doesn't know what to do, he's stuck here now probably for the rest of his life, he can't face Toto. Not now he knows. 

He doesn't know what to do, so George does what he does best and allows himself to cry. He feels beyond ill, all he wants is a massive alpha cock in his arse. He loses track of time somewhere between crying and flooding the place with his slick, when he hears an aggressive bang on the door. Fuck.  sweat pools off him, he could do with a bang himself, a hard one with his back preferably pressed against a soft mattress.  

it's only when someone knocks again, he comes back to himself. "Who is it?" He manages to croak out. "George, it's me Toto. Are you okay?" George purrs it's unbearable having an alpha so close to him. He can smell Toto's strong alpha scent through the door and George has to do everything in his power to stop himself from begging Toto to wreck him.

"I'm perfectly fine Toto." George surprises himself with how calm and collected he sounds, maybe Toto will just get the hint and go away.  "George, I can smell it you know." That's it then, his life as he knows it is over. "Right, yes. I'm sorry Toto. If you want to just step away, i'll pack my stuff and leave."

"Don't be silly George, who cares that you're an omega? George is convinced he's delirious at this point and palms his hard cock through his race suit. "George lets me in please." Toto sounds calm, collected and not angry at all. He sounds sexy, how has George never noticed before? George forces his own palm off his cock. 

"George, I can smell you. Please, just open the door, I can help you out." The words translate in George's brain to please George let me fuck you. He shakes his head, trying to clear his mind. This can't be happening.

"Open the door George." Toto is quiet for a moment, a whole minute passes before he speaks again. "Open the door George, that's an order." The omega inside of him is screaming at him to obey an alpha's order. George would love nothing more than Toto's knot but there are mechanics out there? What if someone sees and tells the press that George is a horny omega who couldn't keep his hands off his team principal in public. No, he can't.

"I don't want to, go away." George lies, he can't take it anymore and pushes his race suit off his hips and wraps his hand around his cock still covered by his fire proofs. "I know you want me to help you George, don't lie to me."

"You being an omega won't affect your seat, I promise." George's hands shake as he scrambles to unlock the door. He's barely aware he's done it but Toto doesn't hesitate for a second, pulling him off his knees and presses himself up against George's sweaty back. "You smell so good baby."

"Do you want me to help you with your heat, sweet little omega?" Toto's hands are all over his body, he roughly spins him around and picks him up. George doesn't hesitate for a second and wraps his long legs around Toto's body. "You're so wet baby." Toto growls into his ear, palming the wet patch on George's fire proofs. "Please Toto."

George has completely lost it now, his omega instincts have fully taken over. Toto squeezes  his ass and massages the round globes, not hesitating for a second despite the amount of wetness George is leaking. George is shameless and pushes back into Toto's hand, silently begging for anything. The movement pushes Toto's hard cock into George's. It's pain and pleasure all at the same time, he can feel Toto's massive cock against his but there is far too much fabric between them. 

"Patience baby, you'll soon get what you want." George is only half aware that he's pulling Toto's clothes off, pulling at the hem of his shirt and pulling down the fly on his pants. Toto momentarily steps back and calmly removes each of the offending garments, leaving George to go insane watching him.

"Want you." George mumbles, mouth watering as he sees Toto's beautiful cock, it's so big and he wants to take it into his mouth, so badly. He wants to choke on it and be suffocated by the smell of Toto.  "let me help you George, this isn't about me."

Toto pushes George forward and bends him over the sink, George catches a glance at himself in the mirror, he's a mess, his hair is plastered to his forehead, his cheeks are burning red and his eyes are glazed over completely with lust. Toto is finally freeing him from his sticky fire proofs and purrs approvingly at George's body.

"You're so wet George." Toto groans into his ear as he pushes two fingers into George, he scissors them apart as George arches up, getting as much as he can from those long fingers. "Don't think i've ever had a bitch this wet." George moans even louder as a third finger is pushed inside and roughly slammed in and out of him.

"I don't have to fuck you, not if you don't want it George." The softness of it fucks with George's head. "I can just finger you or help you out in another way." George melts against Toto's body. "Please Alpha, I want your knot, please."

George has no shame and bends himself further over the sink and grinds his wet ass into Toto's cock. "Fuck, George." Toto grips his narrow hips tightly and it sends shock waves down Georges body. "Toto, fuck me please."

"Who would I be to deny a begging omega." Toto presses himself against George's cock and slowly starts to sink his cock inside. Toto's head rests on George's shoulder and he so badly wants Toto to bite him, claim him, ruin him. Toto starts thrusting instantly slamming into George, every thrust sends a tidal wave of slick down George's thighs.

It's not even nearly enough, George is begging for more, it feels like Toto is almost holding back. "Give me more, please." Toto gives a little sigh. "Whatever my little omega wants." Maybe George should be worried, they are not using a condom and George isn't on any birth control but he's not worried, he wants Toto to fuck him full of his pups.

Toto is holding him holding him like he's precious and might shatter in his arms, George on the other hand is pushing his hips back and getting everything he needs. He moans loudly, so damn turned on as Toto slides his hips back and slams back into him, The pace is rhythmic and fast and delicious. "You're so good like this George." George grunts as he's filled with an extra hard thrust. "Such a cute little omega, begging for your alpha's cock like that.

Toto holds George's hips in an iron grip, to stop him bumping himself into the sink and hurting himself. The omega inside George giggles foolishly at the protection from his alpha while Toto slides their bodies together perfectly, both moaning loudly in sync with each other.

"I've always know George, that you were a little omega." Toto growls into his ear, speeding up his thrusts until the sound of skin slapping against echo's around the bathroom. "As soon as you presented me with that little power point with your sweet smell and your eagerness to impress." George cries out, as Toto hits him dead on in his prostate. "And you are aren't you George? Always so submissive and responds well to praise."

"Please, I need..." George doesn't really know what he's asking for Toto seems to understand, as he angles his thrusts and slams into George's prostate with every thrust, causing the omega to cry out in pure pleasure with every thrust into his body. George comes hard, untouched the cum exploding over his already wet through body but it's not nearly enough. He whines and squirms in Toto's grip.

"What is it baby, do you need your alpha's not?" George is far too gone for words, he nods eagerly. George doesn't care about anything other than Toto's knot right now, he will happily carry Toto's pups, hopefully strong alpha's just like daddy.  

Toto thrusts into him with all his might, squeezing impossibly harder on his already bruised his hips, while his other hand pushes George's beck, down bending him open even more. George groans feeling himself open up, ready for the knot he's about to receive.

George splutters and chokes on his moans when he finally feels Toto's knot sink inside of his whole and starts swelling larger and larger. George's thoughts dominated by being a good wife and good mommy and that's even before Toto has started to spill inside of him.

When Toto's knot finally pops and fills him with that hot fertile alpha seed, he can't hold back his second orgasm and comes completely untouched.

Toto pulls out of him and sinks down to the floor with George, just holding him. George has come back to senses, at least before the next wave starts and he's so fucking embarrassed with himself, begging for knots and pups. What was he thinking?

"What are you going to do about the next wave?" Toto his helping him onto his feet. "I don't know, i've got toys and stuff back in my room." Just gives a little shrug. "Why... Why don't I help you with your heat? We've done it once what difference does a few more rounds make?" And then Toto adds as an afterthought. "We'll get you the morning after pill as well."

George is apparently more gone than he originally thought because he purrs and agrees to let Toto come back with him.       

[tillywunderwing]

🎙️, 🤝, and 🧨 for the ask game.,,,.,

OKAY. LISTEN. this ask has been sitting in my drafts forfuckingever because I couldn't attach the audio file for the first question on my phone, and I thought 'well okay I'll just answer it on my laptop later'

I proceeded to Forget. ANYWAY. Totally hinged rambling under the cut

🎙️ What’s your favourite (used or unused) voice line in the games?

okay this is SUCH a specific pick but I’m personally really fond of THIS unused line for when you equip the winter gloves in I3YTD:

"I can't say I approve of you wearing any kind of Zoraxis branding on your clothing, but I do approve of you not catching a cold. Care comes first!"

it's just... i just... RRRGH he's so SILLY and it's like, such a simple little quote that kind of perfectly captures everything I love about his character. Like, you know, he's opinionated, but he's also kind of goofy and so softhearted, he cares so much about the player and their health... and for similar reasons I'm also going to shout out this line (that DOES get used in I3YTD) from Cold Shoulder (this one even comes with gameplay!):

“I don’t think that gondola is blizzard-certified, Agent... Those winds are too much! AGENT—!”

Just, the panic in his voice. The terror. So many of the deaths in these games are kind of, blink-and-it's-over, but this one... he can see it's about to happen. He has enough time to realise he's about to watch his favourite agent die. And you can hear that in his voice I think... the way it builds in pitch, and even the progressing certainty in what he's saying, 'I don't think' to 'those winds are'. We are listening to this man realise he's about to lose someone he cares about a lot. And that someone is us. Don't look at me DUDE DON'T LOOK AT MEEEE

(Can you tell the Handler is my favourite character? Because the Handler is my favourite character.) ahem I'm normal I promise I am

Now this probably could bring us to our next point... "🤝"... however I do actually have ANOTHER neglected ask in my inbox that asks the same question. And I think I am going to save the inevitable essay for its own post there LMAOOO so I will answer this question but. elsewhere. Soon

so instead all this talk of my favourite character will bring us to our other next point:

🧨If you put your two favourite characters in a room for five minutes how many people would die?

Hm. Okay. This is. A difficult question because it means I definitively have to pick a second favourite character. Reggie is a given--

I'm gonna let Ollie be the other one, because I like his voice, and I like his attitude, and I like him. Him and Reggie would get along famously if you put them in a room together, I don't think there's any question about that. Perhaps too famously, though. I think they would get too caught up in gossip over tea, and lose track of all time and obligations. So, to answer 'how many people would die', first I would need to know how many people are in the building(s) Phoenix sets fire to while nobody responsible is looking.

[xuer]

kind eyes extended notes

for kind eyes on ao3

be prepared for the yap fest. please read this after the fic because there are spoilers.

1)

first of all, I wrote this fic very out of order because of several reasons. one, because my caffeine-addled brain couldn't string together a cohesive story or outline before it was begging me to put something down, and two, because I took a little bit of creative liberty with my characterization of oscar, which leads me into…

2)

oscar is usually a really analytical and cool/collected guy, very logical and realistic, but sometimes he just can't think around lando. he's in romantic/platonic love (reader's choice!), your honor. he never lets his emotions get the best of him, so when they do he has no idea how to handle it and can't even recognize it until hourssss later. his thoughts are a mess and he needs a bit of time to even begin to process what happened. when lando's in the vicinity, he's even more scattered. he's struggling to catch up, really, and he's trying desperately to read the social cues that lando is usually so open with but is kind of on and off with this time around.

he's also obsessed with lando's eyes. I mean OBSESSED. which, me too, I kind of projected hard on this part, but it shows through the fic because oscar is like, "lando look at me!" "lando please show me your eyes" "lando pay attention to me, don't avoid me" yada yada yada. it stems from lando being the kind of person where you can usually tell exactly how he's feeling. he doesn't shy away from showing his emotions on camera or in front of other people, even if they're very very ugly to look at. we kind of saw the peak of this in austria, where lando didn't mince his words AT ALL after the race despite knowing the backlash he would get (this kid will give me a stress induced heart attack one day I swear). we've seen his ups and downs, his high after scoring pole in barcelona and his crushing low after losing it, his fury after the on-track incident at the red bull ring, to his… honestly I want to say slow and steady loss of hope after silverstone. he still gives his everything in every race, he's still determined to go out there and do the best he can, but like you can tell the difference in his reaction after he got pole in spain vs in hungary - there was a very big difference and a lack of unfiltered excitement this time around. he knows what it's like to win and to be so so close to a win he can feel himself lose it. lando feels everything so strongly, and after so many disappointments and close calls he's kind of learned to protect himself in this way. going into budapest, he still expected and wanted to win, but his confidence has definitely taken a hit. oh my god this turned into a lando character analysis I'm so sorry let me cut it short and just say his eyes are so expressive and after hungary he was very subdued and oscar's internal lando alarm sounded and was like "show me your eyes!" "why won't you show me your eyes!" "even when you look at me I can't tell what you're thinking anymore something is wrong!!!" until lando does something very obvious with his face like smile at him. oscar you silly boy.

all this just to say in this fic oscar's just a bit of a dunce, and I mean that in the most affectionate, loving way possible. he doesn't know the full story getting out of the car (neither of them do) and all he cares about is if lando is mad at him, but he can't even admit that to himself so he just feels like a crazy person whenever it looks like lando might be upset and he doesn't even understand why. every bit about the dread he feels, the lightheadedness, nausea, feeling cold, etc. that's all his physical and visceral reactions to lando not looking happy, to him being scared his relationship with lando won't survive this. along the same lines, the pressure in his stomach easing up, the warmth he feels, being able to breathe and think (relatively) normally again, those are all reactions to him seeing lando react or interact with him positively. I'm sorry, but he's whipped and he has absolutely no clue. but yes, that's what the unreliable narrator tag is for.

3)

some other details I mentioned in the fic but didn't really expand on:

there's a lot of other parallels and barely touched upon details in this fic to be honest. besides the obvious and reoccurring mention of lando's eyes and oscar's desperation for eye contact throughout the whole thing, there's oscar seeing his reflection in lando's visor at the very beginning and in his own phone screen at the very end (he just wants to see lando's eyes but instead he's seeing his own, he wants to figure lando out and find out how upset he actually is with him but what he actually needs to do is look at himself and figure everything out from his own side first).

oscar doing everything on autopilot and muscle memory at the beginning because he's still sorting things out in his brain, cringing at himself a lot which isn't normal behavior but he genuinely does not know what to do or how to act in this situation, only rebooting just in time to give some non-answer to nico in his interview and barely coming fully back online when lando first actually talks to him, how it really doesn't hit him that he won (HE ACTUALLY WON. THIS TROPHY IS HIS.) until he's basically (almost) alone in a familiar setting after he has time to process everything.

lando procrastinating taking off his helmet because he, too, needs time to school his expression into something. decent.

lando being uncharacteristically quiet in the beginning, silently congratulating oscar in the car, silently acknowledging him. silently motioning for him to get to his interview, his first actual words being trivial and ultimately meaningless small talk ("no big fumbles. good interview.") he's still teasing oscar, he wants oscar to know they're okay, but he still needs time to process what he lost, lick his wounds a little, needs to cool off for a bit before he can start to actually be genuinely happy for oscar's achievement. it's why it takes him until after the interviews, the cooldown room, the podium, when they're both alone (3 hours later) for him to finally muster up the strength to text oscar an actual heartfelt congratulations.

and his simple "you will" at the end of the first section is his unwavering belief that oscar won't stop here, he'll keep rising, this is nowhere near his peak as a driver, despite what lando wants or wishes for in regards to his own career, wrapped up as a nice little generic reassurance. oscar catches the weight of the words, but he doesn't know what it means exactly. yet.

oscar in the cooldown room expecting to eventually get a verbal knockdown from lando (max his best friend on the grid someone he's known for a decade wasn't even safe a few weeks ago, oscar's nobody special in comparison, lando's definitely mad he got prickly at LEWIS OF ALL PEOPLE oscar is not safe) so he's trying to find the right thing to say but then lando notices him floundering and trying to fix things for him so he just deflates and apologizes to lewis and smiles at oscar.

mclaren social media admin (who is faceless and genderless and honestly only in this fic because of reasons discussed in section 5) mentioning that oscar seems happier alone just staring at his trophy, which, again, yeah it only just registered for him, but also, he's in the comfort of his driver room with no actually hostile cameras around so he isn't on high alert for every move he makes and lando isn't here so he can actually think! hurray!

another kind of obvious one is the texts. oscar's knee-jerk reaction to seeing a message from mark, someone who's supposed to be on his side all the time, is negative? he's very surprised at himself and he doesn't know it's because he knows mark dislikes lando and can already envision how his opinion will only worsen after today. he's like noooo don't hate him I don't even know why I'm defending him I'm upset at what he did too but I hate that you hate him. absolutely zero below-surface level thoughts. soooo real.

also oscar's contact names for them (bless his heart), how mark uses correct spelling and punctuation while lando's dyslexic ass just wings it (and how some of the only messages without misspells are his congratulation messages because he painstakingly typed those out ok?), lando calling oscar by name and not any of the stupid nicknames he came up with that oscar secretly hoards close to his heart, and the timestamps, ugh. and yes, mark's last message is a reference to red bull and multi 21. sorry, even the commentators mentioned it and you want me to not bring it up in the fic? [loud buzzer noise] never. lando is also very much running away from everything that's why he's hiding out on max's private jet they can both wallow and drink their sorrows and beef with their engineers away together 30,000 feet in the air.

throughout the fic as well, you can kind of note the changes in tone. the beginning focuses a lot on minuscule details, how oscar feels millisecond by millisecond, because that's all he's able to process at the time. as the fic progresses, oscar's internal monologue gets less self-judgy and gets its snark back. it goes from "god, he doesn't know how lando does it" and "what is wrong with him today?" and speeds up as he goes back to normal and starts being... well, funny again. "after lewis has enough of waterboarding them both" "his phone starts up its never-ending seizure of notifications again" like ok king we're so back.

and then it proceeds to all come crashing down again.

oscar's (loud QUOTE UNQUOTE) "sickness" (read: unintelligible mixed feelings) makes a reappearance when he's listening back on lando's radio messages because he had no idea to the extent of what will was saying to him and it is extremely shocking I'll give him that. even I was like. jaw on the floor when I found out. because your engineer, the little guy in your ear, is the one person you're supposed to be able to trust unconditionally. they are the ones keeping you out of harm's way, the ones keeping you from crashing, your direct and only link to the rest of the team connecting you to the mechanics and the pit wall, the person telling you the strategy, like. it's not the norm, but it is also not entirely uncommon for when a driver switches teams to literally take their engineer with them. that's how instrumental they are to a driver's race, and it takes a lot of time to build up that trust and rapport. mclaren has a separate underlying issue where lando for some odd reason has three different race engineers that just switch out between weekends and it's SO ODD but that's a whole different story. point is this - a driver's race engineer messing up and giving out of date/incorrect information to them by accident is one thing, but a driver's race engineer guilt tripping and straight up lying to their face is another, and it is a hugeeeee no no. will joseph did that to lando, and now that trust might be completely broken. as one driver to another, oscar knows exactly how big of a deal this was. it's something he never expected from them.

at the very end after oscar realizes what exactly happened during the race and watches the compilation video and realizes despite everything lando is still so so genuinely proud of him for winning, he feels so many mixed and indistinguishable emotions that he's just kind of in shock for lack of a better word, which is why it kind of just... ends like that. sorry guys, it's going to take him another few hours to work through that one as well.

and again, the eyes. the entire point of this fic is centered around lando's eyes and how he expresses his emotions through them, and how oscar is so used to looking at them to tell how lando is feeling, so that's why he's always so desperate to actually be able to see his eyes. lando is genuinely happy for oscar winning, but it's incredibly bittersweet (and I explain more why in section 4). the pit in oscar's stomach starts out as dread, that lando's pissed and won't continue to be on good terms with him, it fluctuates up and down whenever he thinks lando is happy for him or mad at him, and gnaws away at him for the rest of the fic before eventually settling on a combination of fear that their relationship will never be the same again and guilt that although what happened was something he couldn't control and wasn't even aware about until much later, it still happened, and despite it all lando still looks at him with the kindest eyes. it's sickening to think about.

4)

some things I didn't get to add into the fic because one, I couldn't figure out where to fit them, and/or two, my wrists are close to giving up and I need to clock out for the day. I have just used up all my writing inspiration for the next year.

anyways, part of the original reason why I wrote this in the first place was because I was reading some other new landoscar fics about what happened and (absolutely no shade to them!!!!! I want to stress) I didn't agree with some of the ways they portrayed lando or oscar. ultimately, they're both f1 drivers. they're both selfish, they wouldn't be on the grid if they weren't. lando didn't want to give up the position because he's selfish and is desperate for that second win. oscar wanted him to because this is the strategy they agreed on earlier that day and he also wants that first win, even though TECHNICALLY prioritizing the driver ahead in wdc rankings wouldn't necessarily be a wrong call. they're each other's closest competitors, all they have as an equal comparison is each other, and they know it. lando has his pride as someone older, more experienced, who has been with the team a much longer time than oscar has. he had to wait more than five years for his first win. oscar gets one almost dropped in his lap just a year and a half into his career when he didn't have to stick with a singular team through all their trials and tribulations, when he wasn't lugging a glorified shoebox into the points for all of 4 years amidst criticism of renewing with the same team again? it's not fair. oscar plays the team game because he's biding his time, he is intimately aware of his position in the team as the second driver, but he lucked out to be at a mclaren because it's currently the only front running team that acts like it's still in the midfield and prioritizes "being fair" over a championship. he knows if he follows the rules normally he can capitalize on them being "fair" again and he'll have a chance to prioritize himself. both of them know this and if there's an opportunity to win, no matter the situation, they'll capitalize it. it's not actually really fair to either of them, but that's the nature of f1, and no one should be blaming either of them for their line of thinking.

got a little away from me there again, but you get the point. neither of them really blame each other for acting the way they did in hungary, but at the same time both of them blame each other for not acting better, if that makes sense. oscar is not going to apologize for asking for team orders to be honored. lando is not going to apologize for waiting until the last possible minute to let him through. oscar was going to do anything for the race win. lando needed to prove his point. in f1, this is how it works. both of them are warring with emotions of happiness, guilt, pride, etc. and it just turns into a mess.

oscar is thrilled by his first win, but it's tainted by shame of the way he had to win it, how he wasn't really good or fast enough for it, and guilt of making lando give up the lead. lando is pissed that he lost out on yet another race win, genuine happiness at seeing oscar succeed, and crushed pride of being treated like a second driver and berated on live tv because of this so called fairness. still, deep inside, lando wishes he could have ignored that strategy call until the very end and just took the win. still, oscar does not regret winning this race, no matter how it ended up happening or what anyone else had to do.

there's also the whole thing about lando starting his interviews off with "the team messed up" and somehow progressing into "I didn't deserve to win", missing scenes from media pen interviews, the press conference, etc, how he blamed himself for his bad start while nico rosberg the man himself was like lol no that was not your fault??? and chewed andrea Stella out on live tv, backstory on mark's one sided beef with lando, events after oscar's immediate reaction when he realizes the truth and how he would war with himself but still end up being selfish and glad he won and feeling even more guilty about it, the tense team debrief, lando being miserable, the subdued meal with the rest of the team after lando hightailed it out of there at the earliest possible opportunity, oscar's lonely plane ride home, the possible dinner with mark, eventual confrontation or closure ("you never did answer nico properly back there, did you doubt I'd give the position back?"), and so many others... but I never planned on including a lando pov in the first place which a lot of these scenes wouldn't work without, and also oh my god my wrists.

I wish I could have included all of this in the fic somewhere, but disjointing rambling on tumblr will have to do instead.

5)

lastly, and I promise this is the very last section, I tried my best to stay as close to actual events possible for a lot of televised scenes, but f1 broadcasts are notoriously stingy with letting people rewatch things that didn't happen in the race itself, especially since I. do not pay to watch this stuff lol. so I had to scour social media and youtube for clips of lando's radio messages, the post-race interviews with nico, what happened in the cooldown room and on the podium (rip lando he's being torn to shreds right now but it's ok I support his rights and wrongs), etc etc etc

there are still some things I'm not too sure about (i.e. the order of events, some quotes, non-televised events) so I took a bit of creative liberty regarding those. I'm pretty??? sure??? it went both park in parc ferme > lando congratulates oscar while he's still in the car > lando doesn't go to the team while oscar goes to them > both get weighed > both do the outdoor interview for podium finishers with nico (in finish order so oscar, lando (paraphrased), and lewis (not pictured but just imagine him flirting with nico and that's basically what happened)) > cooldown room > podium > media pen interviews (not pictured because at this point I just wanted it all to be over and I didn't watch them anyways) > press conference (also not pictured for the same reason) > go back to drivers rooms and clean up > team debrief (also not pictured partially for the same reason and partially because what I had was already a decent stopping point)

so again for all of this I tried to base it on real footage as much as possible. it basically matches every single move for move from the beginning until the interviews with nico (the question nico asked and oscar's response are both real quotes, lando and oscar's little interaction at the tables afterwards is partially real but the dialogue was written by me because I couldn't hear what they were saying). the cooldown room scene was my own little fix-it for lando because god he stresses me out sometimes (lovingly) but the overall events written did happen.

the podium is more accurate to what actually happened. randy was actually up there, god forbid, but the broadcast angle gets really awkward and crops lando out of a lot of the celebrations because he goes into the corner, so I'd say it's almostttt move for move again.

for the driver room scene, the social media admin is literally only there because I needed to fit in the part where oscar just lovingly gazes at his trophy and soaks it in a little (this also did happen check mclaren social media) and for that I needed for one, the trophy to get to him somehow, and two, someone filming him while he's making his trademark heart eyes at a lump of ceramic. everything after that is obviously events I came up with. there's no one video I referenced for lando's radio messages but they're all real quotes and you can find them... multiple places online. the second video that oscar watches is completely made up, but it also probably exists somewhere. those two can't exactly take their eyes off each other.

aaaand I think that's it! honestly, this is just all rambling that couldn't fit within the character limit in the fic end notes, and like I stated above, won't make sense unless you read it. if you got this far thank you so much and also I'm so sorry for subjecting you to this. let me know what you think about the fic itself by commenting there or about these notes by replying here or sending an ask... at your earliest convenience! (hah.)

[centrally-unplanned]

As I am now full-in on the body count section of The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere, I do have growing complaints about how it handles its sort of mystery build-up and reveal aspects. There is an adage for mystery novels to "have your answers ask more questions"; you set up a mystery, you *resolve* the mystery, but that resolution itself just creates deeper mysteries. This of course works very well to keep ratcheting up tension and keep the story moving forward; but it also resolves tension at the same time, you do actually get answers as you go. As an author you can perhaps think of there being a "quota" for the number of active questions for the reader to be considering; if you stack too many at once its both too hard to track them and is frustrating to read about, the story never delivers.

TFTBN breaks this rule; not every time, but a lot. In particular with Su's identity/trauma origin it happens all the time, you get literally dozens of "more mystery" moments behind it before you ever get any answers around it. Its just too coy by half! Why is my narrator like deliberately hiding their own thoughts from the reader across dozens of instances where those thoughts would be extremely relevant? The tension has already been ratcheted to the max, you can set it aside for a bit if you want but if you dangle the question in front of me too often it loses impact.

And even though now we have been getting answers, its *still* playing coy. You have a flashback to a scene of child Su being confronted by Ran over her identity mystery, and she breaks down and starts to explain it, and then the scene just cuts, so you only get a half an explanation. Which is enough to pretty much piece it together, so like the tension is gone? Now when you are coy about it (multiple times after that scene!) its a little lame actually, who ya fooling! But what it did is take away the opportunity to just have a really good scene. You cut away from a character's moment of emotional revelation and interpersonal confrontation.

Mysteries, to simplify of course, do two things for the reader; they make you turn the page in your desire to know more, and they set up dramatic stakes for their reveal in scenes. Its a balancing act ofc but you don't want to sacrifice the latter to keep baiting the former.

I feel this too around the "villain faction" for the story. Right now the villain faction is a virtually-unknown group of actors who have had no interactions or relationships with any of the characters, using mystery tactics to kill people. We are many chapters into that plot, multiple people of note have died, but they are still just strangers - their stated motives minimal and seemingly farcical.

Ofc I am no fool, I understand via meta knowledge and have picked up on the hints they have dropped that they will in fact not be strangers in full - I get how stories work. The problem is that meanwhile we have had like multiple scenes of the group having the traitor debate - "is it one of us?" But that question is silly because I *know nothing about the villains* of substance. Why would any of these classmates betray their group for them? We have no info on that. Oh sure sure I have these like, tiny *mechanical* hints. Like one time Seth? He gave a thumbs up to Ezekiel, when they were supposed to be mad at each other. Sus, my dudes. But that isn't a *motive*, right? Its not a compelling story, its just data. Because the story wont resolve any of its dangling questions, the idea that any of these people is a traitor is just dumb, you would have to like explain the entire plot in one infodump to sell it as interesting. By insisting on drip-feeding every mystery, instead of chained resolution-renewal, these plot threads aren't developed enough to work when they need to.

I do think this comes back to the fundamentals of the pacing issue - there is essentially a desire for this story to be longer than it is. Its a 3000 page book (equivalent ofc), but it isn't, not really. I am ~1000 pages into it I guess, but its probably not even ~500 pages in actual content. I could do this in definitely 400. And this is more than just a padding problem - its that structural thing, to make that length work and still be decent as a story (which it is, its a good story overall) you have to sort of chop up your big moments , which sort of kills them.

Like there is a character, Jia Fang, a fellow student who doesn't go with the group, but is mentioned a bunch as a sort of wild card, and its built up right? They are totally gonna show up somehow, there is tension about what they are up to, and then bam, they literally burst through the door. Its great, they make a huge impact, the chapter ends on that cliffhanger.

And then after maybe a few paragraphs with them the next *multiple chapters* are about a conversation between other people, about other topics where Fang is barely mentioned, and then literally, literally, we get multiple other student's academic thesis presentations, before the plot that Fang showed up to be involved in kicks back into gear. Its self-sabotage right, the literary moment broken apart because the story has to hit quota.

Its certainly a case where the serial nature of the publication would make it ludicrously difficult to fix, that I totally get. Art is really, really hard.