#but first here's matilde

[ratwalks]

Matilde

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 24/? Word count: 3006 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 22. Out Of Sight, But On Your Mind

Charles parked his car close to the factory. Besides meeting fans and taking photos with them at the gate, he received a few gifts for his team principal. It was his first day back at the factory after Silverstone. He collected all the gifts and got out of the car. He looked at them. There were a few handwritten notes and a few stuffed animals. A soft smile grew on his face. He thought it was cute from the fans.

As he walked through the gates, the atmosphere shifted from the enthusiastic cheers from the fans to the more subdued workplace ambience. Charles couldn't help but wonder how Matilde was doing. It has been four days since he last saw her.

Deciding to leave the gifts in Matilde's office, Charles approached her office, which wasn't empty. He hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to leave the gifts behind or not. He decided to go with the first option since he didn't know where else to leave them.

"Hello, can I leave this in Matilde's office?" Charles politely asked the woman behind Galileo's desk. Where was Galileo?

The woman looked up, showing some arrogance. "You can ask Mister Verratti."

Oh, right, Narciso Verratti was the interim team principal for now. Charles showed a small smile and nodded. He knocked on the glass door and waited until he got a response. Narciso looked up from his work and gave him a nod. Charles opened the door and stepped inside. "Hello," he smiled.

"Buongiorno, Charles," the businessman said. "It's good to see you. What can I do for you?"

"I have some gifts for Matilde," Charles said and looked at the gifts. He looked back up to Narciso, who looked at Charles like he was stupid. "Can I leave them here for when she comes back?"

Narciso took a deep breath and looked back at his computer screen. "Sure," he breathed. "You're not the first one. You can leave them in the corner," he said, pointing to the corner. "She's very loved, isn't she?" he mumbled.

Charles stepped towards the corner, but stopped walking when he heard those words. "Come again?" He turned around.

"Hmm, what?" Narciso looked at Charles again. "I was talking to myself, sorry."

"Ha," Charles replied, squinting his eyes while scanning the man. He placed the gifts alongside the other gifts on a cabinet and left the office. Charles walked through the engineer's department, finding it awfully quiet. The exchanged greetings lacked the usual energy. Did they all miss Matilde so much? How much influence did she have?

"Hey," Charles greeted the team. He sat down next to Xavi. Oh, shit, the golden birthday box in Matilde's desk drawer. His eyes shot to the glass office; he didn't want to disturb Narciso again.

"Hello," Xavi replied.

More engineers greeted Charles.

"Everything okay here?" Charles asked.

Xavi nodded. "Hmm-hmm, just as usual."

Charles nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Narciso seems very enthusiastic to be here," he sarcastically said. "It looks like his mood is affecting the entire building," he observed.

Looks were shared, but no words were exchanged.

The topic shifted to work-related things, and the past weekend was summarised. The collected data had already been processed, and they quickly began to talk about the setup for the Hungarian Grand Prix. Carlos also joined the talk with his team, just like a few others who were important to a race weekend. The things that they usually discuss during a meeting with Matilde are discussed during a spontaneous desk meeting without the interim team principal.

After an hour, they called in a break. Charles looked at the TP's office again, observing if Narciso noticed anything about the desk meeting. And it wasn't the case since he was still very focused on his computer screen. That was until his assistant called him, and they both left. Charles saw the perfect opportunity to get the golden birthday box.

"I will be right back," he said, quickly walking towards Matilde's office. He walked to her desk and opened the drawer. And there it was: the golden box. He grabbed it and quickly walked away. It was like he was completing a secret mission. And his team thought that as well, when they saw Charles sneakily entering and leaving the office. A reassuring smile rested on his face, and he went to look for Galileo. "Where can I find Galileo?" Charles asked a woman from HR.

"Marketing and PR, probably."

"Alright, thanks." Charles smiled and walked to the next department on the top floor. And indeed, Galileo was moved to this floor. He was sitting in the corner, facing the wall; an improvised work corner. "Demoted?"

Galileo dramatically swung around, sighed and looked unamused at Charles. "Boss is not there, I'm not there," he said. "If you need Matilde, good luck contacting her family." He showed a fake smile and turned around.

"It's Good to see you, too," Charles said. I came here to ask you a favour—well, Matilde did." He placed the golden box on the desk.

"What is this?"

"The birthday box," Charles replied and opened the box. "With birthday cards. Matilde asked to deliver these around the office when there is a birthday."

Galileo flipped through the cards and noticed a list. "I never knew she did this." He opened the list, and all the birthdays of the employees of the month of July were noted there. His eyebrows raised, he never knew about this. "She missed a few days."

"Yeah, she's not here," Charles shot back. "Look, I am not here every day and you are, she specifically asked for you to do this." He looked at the assistant. "Can you take care of it? I'm sure everyone will appreciate it."

Galileo nodded. "Absolutely." He got up. "I will deliver these straight away." He shuffled through the cards.

"I will help you," Charles offered.

Galileo raised his eyebrow and looked impressed. "That is kind of you."

They walked through the different departments and buildings to deliver the birthday cards to the destined people. They obviously wished them a happy birthday as well. For the ones who weren't present, they left a card on their desk or in their locker.

As they walked around, Charles and Galileo engaged in a conversation, discussing various topics and occasionally sharing anecdotes about their experiences with Matilde. It was starting to become evident that despite the different roles they played in the team, Matilde's influence had touched each member in unique ways.

"I've got to admit," Galileo said with a chuckle. "You are the last person I ever thought I'd be walking through the office with delivering birthday cards."

"How the tables have turned," Charles replied.

They continued their task, stopping by different workstations to wish team members a happy birthday. The expressions of surprise and gratitude on their colleagues' faces hinted at the positive impact of Matilde's thoughtful tradition.

They stumbled across the night shift manager as they approached the final department. Galileo and Charles walked over to him with grins on their faces. Mario looked up from his desk and gave the two young lads a side-eye.

"What do you need?" Mario sighed and annoyedly removed the glasses from his face.

"It's your birthday delivery service," Charles said and widely smiled. "Buon compleanno, Mario."

Galileo stuck out the card. "Happy birthday," he smiled. "Matilde wanted to give this to you herself, but unfortunately, she couldn't be here."

"Thank you, kids," Mario replied and smiled gratefully. He accepted the card and opened the envelope, taking the card out of it. It was a white card with a small red car in the middle. He smirked and read what was written inside: a simple birthday message. Mario looked up, noticing Galileo and Charles desperately trying to see what the card looked like. "Wait until it's your turn," he said, shaking his head. He placed the card on his desk. "Thank you. How is she doing?" He leaned back on his chair.

Charles and Galileo shared a quick glance, to see who would answer the question. "Fine," Galileo then said. "Recovering, but fine, I think. I haven't spoken to her since Tuesday." It was now Friday.

Mario nodded. "It's just bad luck that it happened to her, nothing that would have prevented it. Anyway, I will send her a quick message and then prepare for the meeting," he breathed.

"Shouldn't you be at home?" Galileo then asked, realising it was weird to see Mario.

"Yes, but Mister Narcissist wants me to be at a meeting, even though I'm completely not needed."

Charles squinted his eyes. He knew who Narciso Verratti was, but he had barely met him. And he started to see and understand that not everyone liked the businessman. "It's a shame," he shared.

"It is what it is," Mario shrugged.

Then Galileo and Charles said bye, wishing Mario good luck with his work. Their mission was complete, and the two walked back to the office, satisfied with the positive and grateful reactions their co-workers shared. Plus, the two finally started to connect with each other. They were engaged in a casual conversation. The weight of the birthday delivery mission seemed to have lifted some of the initial tension between them. Charles began to see Galileo as more than just the 'annoying' and 'heartless' assistant, and Galileo started to appreciate Charles beyond the race track instead of the grumpy dickhead. They had one thing in common: they highly respected Matilde, and she highly respected her team.

Charles returned to his engineers. "Sorry, it took longer than expected," he apologised.

"What were you doing with Galileo?" Carlos asked and raised his eyebrows, being aware of the relationship between Charles and Galileo.

"Something Matilde asked us to take care of."

When it was time to go to the meeting, everybody got something to drink first and made their way to the meeting room. Once everyone was present - on time - they had to wait for Narciso. The people in the meeting room were lively and sharing things. Until... until two people walked in. The room fell silent and the entire atmosphere changed on the spot.

"Buon pomeriggio a tutti," Narciso greeted the team and sat down on Matilde's spot. His assistant sat across the room, which was not Galileo's spot. It was different. "Cominciamo," he called, saying that they could begin.

Laurent Mekkies got up and walked over to the presentation screen, ready to present the recap and upcoming events. "Good afternoon, everyone. Last week was an intense and weird week, I hope everyone recovered from it and has found new energy for the upcoming races. It's gonna be tough, especially because it is the last doubleheader before the summer break-"

"Mi scusi, perché parliamo inglese?" Narciso asked why everyone was talking in English. "We are in Italy, we are an Italian team, everyone in this room speaks and understands Italian."

No one dared to answer. Looks were shared.

"Matilde understands Italian to a certain level," Mario backed Matilde up. "She is still learning it, and it's going well, but the racing terms are still difficult. We are practising every now and then, but we like to keep it accessible to everyone in this team."

Narciso took a deep, disappointing breath and looked around the room; everyone seemed to agree with Mario by the looks on their faces. "Now it makes sense why every document is in English, even the internal documents that used to be Italian," he mentioned. "Anyway, let's continue in English then."

The meeting continued in English, but the tension lingered. Narciso's entry had disrupted the harmonious atmosphere that Matilde had cultivated within the team. Slowly, some members began to see what kind of culture Ferrari had before Matilde joined; old, traditional, stiff, a hierarchical culture, barely open communication. It worked for a couple of years, but... It wasn't something for now. When Matilde joined the team, the communication became open and modern; she had an open-door policy, and the lines slightly faded in the hierarchy. Of course, there were boundaries, but the culture became open. And just the way Matilde approached things; she smiled a lot, wasn't afraid to make a joke and allowed funny and light moments. Matilde had an influence on the team, and people have begun to notice it.

You know what you're missing when you don't have it anymore.

* * *

"Matilde, don't stress and don't get overhyped. It's not good for your recovery," her father mentioned. "Don't wind yourself up."

Matilde looked at her father and rolled her eyes, ignoring the comment. The pre-race show just ended, and they were ready to watch the race in Budapest, Hungary. It had been two weeks since the surgery, and Matilde had recovered well; however, she still wasn't allowed to work for another week - or travel, so she was still in the cottage in England. It didn't take her away from the Grand Prix because she lived for it. It was weird to watch the pre-race show, weird because people discussed Matilde's team, the changes and her performances so far. Plus, she hadn't watched a pre-race show in years.

"Matilde and not winding herself up over F1?" Linnea, Matilde's best friend, smirked.

"It's not possible, but we will still try it, don't we?" her father said strictly.

"Yes," Matilde briefly said and smiled, running her hand through her blown-out hair. "If they don't fuck it up."

Sven, also a good friend of Matilde, sat next to Matilde on the couch and padded her shoulder. "Don't be negative. If they fuck it up, it is not your fault."

"Instead, everybody will see how great of a team principal you are," Kai added, another friend.

"Yes, and if everything goes flawless, I am the failure," Matilde shot back. "And if they fuck it up, if Narciso fucks it up, I have to fix it all over again."

"No stress," Dagmar said, and she smiled.

The friends Matilde had over for the Hungarian Grand Prix were friends from England. Long story short: they met over Facebook while looking for Danish people in England. They all lived in the same area, and they became close friends. One of the advantages now Matilde was stuck in England to recover, was that she could see her friends more than once. The disadvantage: no Grand Prix. But in this case: she preferred the advantage.

"Alright, the predictions. Linnea," Sven said. "We're just going to do like we used to do." He pointed at Linnea.

Linnea took a deep breath. "It's not fair. Matilde can predict these things much more easily. She literally is F1," she whined.

Laughter filled the living room.

"One bad start or yellow flag, and things are changing," Matilde replied and smiled.

"Fine. Verstappen, Russell, Perez."

Matilde huffed.

Linnea looked at Matilde. "See!"

"Matilde, shut up. Ferrari is rubbish this weekend, I'm sorry," Sven rubbed the reality in Matilde's face; Charles managed to qualify in P6 and Carlos P7 after some terrible sessions. "Kai?"

"Same as Linnea," Kai answered.

"Dagmar?"

"I think Verstappen, Perez, Alonso."

"Viggo?"

"I don't think Verstappen will win. I think Perez, Verstappen, Leclerc," Matilde's father replied.

Matilde nodded. "Thank you," she said. She made eye contact with Sven, who was waiting for her prediction. "Max, Checo, Hamilton." Everybody began to laugh. "I don't know what Narciso is doing, but he can't lead a team. And Sven, what about you?"

"Verstappen, Checo, Piastri," he replied.

"Bold prediction," everyone said.

"That's F1," Sven proudly said.

Matilde's father moved to the kitchen to prepare some snacks.

"Did you wish your team good luck, or are you throwing it on the I'm-not-working treatment," Sven asked Matilde.

"I'm on medical leave, not literal leave," Matilde replied with a smirk. "I need to let them know that I'm thinking of them, I've got to keep up appearances-"

"Like poison," Dagmar concluded.

"Leave that girl alone," Linnea said. "Being part of Ferrari and being forced to be at home and see your team fail is... Meh, not so fun."

The formation lap began. Even though Matilde wanted to watch the show without any data, she opened her laptop and put the statistics on F1TV. Cheers filled the living room; they had a small bet about when Matilde would pull out the data for this race. After a few minutes, all the cars lined up.

Matilde couldn't ignore the subtle racing heartbeat within her chest. The familiar roar of the engines was hearable through the speakers, creating a symphony of sound that enveloped the room. Matilde's eyes were fixed on the screen, but her mind was also on the grid, imagining the strategic discussions. She straightened her back and sat on the edge of the couch.

The lights went out, and away they went.

"I swear, the first thirty seconds after the start are just nerve-wracking," Dagmar said and observed all the cars.

"Shh," Kai and Sven hushed.

Matilde got up, stood in front of the TV, and watched the start carefully. She was just hoping for a decent start. Initially, she didn't want this to be a good race because then it meant she didn't do a good job at Ferrari—or she did, because then it meant she led the team well. But she wanted a good race for the team, for them, so they could enjoy the good performances.

"Hey, hey, you pushed him off the track!" Matilde said when Stroll pushed Carlos off the track. "Jeez, man. Calm down." Carlos dropped back to P18. Her eyes searched for Charles, who gained two positions. "What the fuck," she responded to the incident and placed her hands on her hips.

"It's gonna be a racing incident," Sven reminded everyone.

"No, shit, Sherlock," Kai responded.

Matilde gave Sven a side eye but kept her mouth shut. She sat down on the couch again and scanned the data on the laptop. So far, so good—well, semi-good.

Snacks were passed around, and the living room was filled with the sounds of laughter, cheers and analyses. It felt like they were ten years back in time; watching F1 and just spending the Sunday together. 

Next chapter

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313 @blodwyn4u

[italian-lit-tournament]

The participating authors for the Italian Lit(erature) Tournament: the general list WITH the new ADDITIONS + the link to the google form to add the last proposals

John William Waterhouse - The Decameron

The Italian 🔥Lit(erature) Tournament is approaching and new names have been submitted in addition to the ones from the original list! This post is only to remember that the google form will remail open for a while to add the last proposals, plus other few details 👇

You can find the first part of the rules here and link to the survey to add new names here!

Under the cut you'll find the usual list but with the addition of the names from the survey so far, all in italics. Other names that have been submitted but already present on the first list remain in a regular font.

There are 13 new names, of the 18 submitted (5 of them already present as written above).

Dante Alighieri

Sibilla Aleramo

Vittorio Alfieri

Cecco Angiolieri

Pietro Aretino

Ludovico Ariosto

Cletto Arrighi

Matteo Bandello

Anna Banti

Giambattista Basile

Giorgio Bassani

Maria Bellonci

Pietro Bembo

Matteo Maria Boiardo

Giovanni Boccaccio

Giordano Bruno

Dino Buzzati

Italo Calvino

Luigi Capuana

Andrea Camilleri

Giosuè Carducci

Guido Cavalcanti

Fausta Cialente

Carlo Collodi

Vittoria Colonna

Gabriele D'Annunzio

Giacomo da Lentini

Tullia d'Aragona

Alba de Céspedes

Cielo (Ciullo) d'Alcamo

Jacopone da Todi

Federico de Roberto

Edoardo De Filippo

Antonio Fogazzaro

Grazia Deledda

Umberto Eco

Beppe Fenoglio

Dario Fo

Marsilio Ficino

Ennio Flaiano

Ugo Foscolo

Fruttero & Lucentini

Veronica Franco

Carlo Emilio Gadda

Natalia Ginzburg

Carlo Goldoni

Guido Gozzano

Carlo Gozzi

Amelia Guglielmetti

Francesco Guicciardini

Tommaso Landolfi

Giacomo Leopardi

Carlo Levi

Primo Levi

Carla Lonzi

Niccolò Machiavelli

Alessandro Manzoni

Giovanbattista Marino

Giovanni Meli

Alda Merini

Pietro Metastasio

Eugenio Montale

Elsa Morante

Alberto Moravia

Anna Maria Ortese

Giuseppe Parini

Goffredo Parise

Giovanni Pascoli

Pier Paolo Pasolini

Cesare Pavese

Francesco Petrarca

Luigi Pirandello

Angelo Poliziano

Luigi Pulci

Salvator Quasimodo

Gianni Rodari

Lalla Romano

Amelia Rosselli

Umberto Saba

Emilio Salgari

Jacopo Sannazaro

Goliarda Sapienza

Leonardo Sciascia

Matilde Serao

Gaspara Stampa

Mario Rigoni Stern

Italo Svevo

Antonio Tabucchi

Igino Ugo Tarchetti

Torquato Tasso

Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa

Pier Vittorio Tondelli

Giovanni Verga

Renata Viganò

Elio Vittorini

Giuseppe Ungaretti

[lashysdomain]

@mageofspacemultiverse and @memurfevur 's Oc Name ARG Data

for those who AREN'T me who've spent the last 4 days and almost every waking and sleeping hour thinking about this, here's what we have so far + puzzles i've not yet been able to solve

characters: [name] - (blog they're at)

arceel - (memurfevur)

how we found out about ynygme (from here on referred to as E). ex moirail, used to be known as Balerion. this is the name that E knows him by.

Ynygme - (mageofspacemultiverse)

We have found E's name. it's recommended not to say it, just in case. they're currently in hiding while we find a tether and figure out how to decode the spell we need to bring them home.

the subjugate video

one of E's captors. we've been told to hide from them, so DNI. please. i know, villian, but dni. summoned by us guessing S

the warden video (loud)

another of e's captors, 110% fucked up on this one. i didn't notice, both of these are my fault.

current puzzle objective is solving the spell to get back to E and helping find any parts of their body to create their tether

extra characters and unsolved puzzles/extra info under the cut

watch'r - (memurfevur)

bound to arceel, knows what's going on to some degree, will take gossip as a bribe for clues, unsure what he'll give. that's my bestie

For now we're good on clues, but we might need more soon?

matild kirada - (memurfevur)

gilf. who said that mentioned in the poem posts image, likely whos help we need to find e's body

unsolved puzzles

i'm currently still trying to solve these, but i'm at my wits end in a way

possible code could be from the polls, setting the positions of letters in another key the letters and their resulting poll result numbers are: e2 r4 p5 i6 c6 h3 (the letters spell cipher. kilant you bitch.)

p is interesting, and has the options of 20 5 20 8 5 18 which when put into an alphanumeric substitution cipher gives us "tether" could be nothing but that seems purposeful? every other poll has just 123...

the pastebin clues, found from the description of the subjugate video.

these are settings for the enigma machine. what we put into it probably hasn't been sent out yet, it's also a clue about E's first name more than likely.

as dr el fj ky mt ob qx uz wh I 10 1 III 17 2 VII 6 4

A grandpre grid from the watch'r drabble and following judgements roman numerals gives us a likely second set of plugboard settings for the enigma machine.

the rest of the settings were found on a past post leading to a soundcloud link

ap cm dv gq iy ne rj sw uf zk V 4 6 IV 6 2 VIII 16 6

from the tags of the last ask + settings for another machine from the post where E told us about their past with balerion. it's unclear if the setting for the third rotor is 22 1 or 2 21

RC EY BF SG JM ID LQ KZ TU HO V 18 3 VI 1 5 III 2 2 1

from a poll with some sort of poem? poem might not actually be important, but the poll post is here

vuypo xu klt syet ya g rukobq crmgp fpkose kkmexf wkzoec knm bwbx qgzkem

Jcif xgs aphwvx rxdgdk jc boyf Irmm g inbfjh b qrqqevn onmzf Mcuvh omeccn diegypgp

from E's latest ask and pulled from the captions of the Warden video. if this is the spell, we're missing the last third piece still

i believe it might be a beaufort vigenere cipher, but we don't have it's key. could also need to be spit through specific enigma machine settings. there are far too many for me to brute force, so we'll just have to wait.

the words that bring them together are likely just the spell, not anything super complex (well more so than finding it all)

current state of the reset conspiracy board

[animation-is-my-jam]

Hey!! I just read through you're blog and I noticed youre Tobecky kids! I wondered about them! Why did you choose those names for them? and how they were received by both Becky and Tobey?

Hello! And Thank you for the ask. (^_^)v

Ngl, I do get very excited about questions regarding any fankids from future AU since they have been the biggest fixation I have regarding my AU. And of course, plus it's Tobecky.

For the names, for context of anyone who doesn't know my Tobecky fankids bc maybe its been a while, it goes:

-Tori (Anactoria) [The oldest]

-Luis [middle child]

-Matilda [youngest]

(They're on my banner now. The easiest way to tell them apart is by their obvious color coordination) (Tori is in purples, Luis dark magenta/crimson, Matilda aquamarine/green-blues)

But yeah, the names!

I came up with their names about in 2018. Yeah, the same year I got fixated on the Wordgirl fandom. At first, I just had the concept of future AU only going from when Becky and the gang went to college, but I got worms in my head casting a vision of a next generation wordgirl story and of course the idea of domestic older Tobecky shenanigans with kids. And I have been sick ever since...my brain it has not recovered.

At first, I only designed one kid, Tori. Which was initially short for Victory since it fits her character, but then I remembered like a dumbass that there is literally a character named Victoria. And I tried to change it in lore that no....um her full name is actually something embarrassingly unique like Anactoria (based on one of Sapphos poems, because local literature nerd Becky might name her daughter that) so she shortens it to Tori. Where then some ppl mistake that she was named after family friend Victoria, and that's the gag for her name. She's named after a poem subject and real funny that it's from Sappho considering who Tori is lmao, but also fits some of her Greek aesthetics.

Luis. Now Luis was a strange one. As I said, I only intended at first for Becky and Tobey in future AU to have one kid, and I only focused on her character. Eventually (aka like 5 months later), I wanted to design other tobecky fankids since the family didn't feel complete for me just yet. So I thought of a little brother, like a TJ to a Becky. But I wanted a baby in there too, so um, middle child Luis was forced to be/lh. But you can tell with some of his characterization and how the family treats him. He was supposed to be the youngest or at least act like the youngest, but nope, he's the middle kid, but he is the most spoiled. His name when I designed him was Lewis, as both references to the protagonist of Meet the Robinsons and to Lewis Carrol of "Alice and Wonderland" (for another literature reference and cause his aesthetic is fairytales). However, I realized that I at least wanted one kid of their's to have a more Hispanic sounding name since y'know I can't lose the culture here, just because Becky married a Brit. So I just had his name and pronunciation easily changed to Luis! (Not said like Lewis or Louise).

Matilda is funny because her name has not changed at all. From her creation, I always imagined her as the youngest and mysteriously smartest of the family. Where Tori and Luis would be messes, she's the one who apparently has it together. She's the Dexter of the family, born a genius, and acts above her age, like a little scientist. I also made it that she's the one with the unique ability of telekinesis and eventually other psychic powers. And for that, she was named after another iconic smart little girl with such abilities. Yep, her name is refence to Matilda from the book and movie (and ig musical too) (that also counts as a literature refence, Becky was 2 for 2 in the naming, too bad Luis couldn't make it 3 lol). She's also nicknamed Matilde, Matty, and Tilly by her siblings and friends.

As for how Tobey and Becky reacted to each of them...hmm while I could just say that they just appeared one day because that's the funniest answer but not canon. I'll just say vaugley how they reacted to them knowing about a kid/how the kids were when they arrived.

All three are ages apart, mainly Tori, since she wasn't intended to have siblings, and I first had her be 12 when Luis came home, but I retconned that a year ago. Where she was 7. The timeline of the McCallister-Botsford family is kinda all over the place, but I'll make it more streamlined one day. (Grrr, I'm now mad at "Stars that shine in your eyes is what matters" because it implies that Luis isn't born yet when now he should be)

So first things first. Tori. Tobey and Becky, after two years of marriage, wanted a kid. And even though, in retrospect, they probably should have waited a bit, they still had their energetic gremlin. They were prepared, excited, and, of course, nervous. And even with the planning they've done, they still didn't anticipate how much of a handful their first would be. Tori was a chaotic little thing, her half Lexiconian abilities definitely causing headaches. There was also her headstrong personality, which made playtime with her an exercise. Tobey and Becky were really preoccupied with her and their own adjectives that there's even a plot line about how they haven't been romantic in years and realize it one day.

When Tori was 7 and she started to become quickly independent, like her mom was at that age (maybe it's a Lexiconian thing), it gave Becky and Tobey time to think about their family more and how it will be smooth sailing from here with Tori getting older...Until Luis happened. He was a surprise, and unlike Tori, he would be a handful too, but in a different way. Tori never cried as much or fussed when she was a baby. The tiredness of taking care of her was all her bountiful energy. However, Luis was clingy, reactive, and sensitive. He was a heavy crier, and it wouldn't go well if they didn't read him a bedtime story. He acted more typical of a human baby, then his sister (and later other sister). He liked to be picked up or carried. Usually, he would also cling to people like some sort of koala.

4 years after Luis was Matilda. She was another surprise. The thing with Matilda is that as a baby, she was already pretty gifted, both in her mind and powers (which were one). Matilda was born with gradual paraplegia. She was given a few chances to learn to crawl and walk, but by age 3, she did have to use a wheelchair. She had other health problems by her birth, but her and the rest of the family learned to adapt. Matilda and Luis formed a bond since they were only 4 years apart versus Tori, who was almost a decade ahead of them. Surprising since Luis would easily get jealous of anyone stealing their parents' time, but he didn't mind being a big brother now and protective of his sister.

[angellayercake]

Daddy Secondo ask gameeeee tell me more

Something special for you seeing as most of this was your idea! And i think this was the thing we screamed about the most (other than the staff 😏)

He blinked, suddenly awake and needing a moment to get his bearings. As his surroundings started to make sense he could feel her in the bed behind him, curled comfortingly against his back. That was not what woke him though he realises as he feels the tapping again at his calf.

'Papa?' Her voice is so quiet he can barely hear her but when he looks down the bed she is there, hair pillow mussed and standing on end and her blanket clutched in her arms. Her eyes are wide and scared, a look he was unfortunately getting used to but whatever it was that sent her here must have been worse than her fear of him.

'Matilde, what are you doing out of bed?' His voice came out sterner than he would have liked. His recent sleep only exacerbating his usually gruff voice. She flinches back and his sleep fogged brain scrambles to think of a way to reassure her.

'Papa I had a bad dream,' she sobs into her blanket and he tries to search back through his memory to his own childhood, not blessed with as caring a nanny as Matilde. He and Terzo, in their cold nursery, curled around each other trying to soothe each others fears. He knows for certain he doesn't want that for her. Sitting up, he looks to the sleeping figure behind him but she has barely stired. Part of him wants to wake her, she would know exactly what to do, but she is sleeping so peacefully he is loathe to disturb her and he can do this now. Be there for his daughter when she needs him.

'Can I stay with you and Bambi?' He nods dumbly not knowing exactly what to say and worried he would scare her further. When he reaches out to her she takes his hand hesitantly, as though she can hardly believe he is willing to help her. She climbs up on to the bed and he settles her in between them hoping the close presence of her nanny, even if asleep will offset any discomfort he brings her. But as he settles back down into the bed it is not her nanny she gravitates towards.

Looking at him shyly she lays her comfort blanket across his torso before snuggling into his chest. Her small head laying just over his heart and he can feel the moment she finally relaxes. He freezes entirely unprepared for this sequence of events, feeling over large and useless as his little girl takes comfort in his presence. On autopilot he wraps her in his arms one hand stroking her soft curls and the other holding her securely as if one movement would ruin the bubble of safety they have created.

'Thank you, Papa,' she whispers sleepily and he has to swallow around the lump forming on his throat. It hits him then all these moments he must have missed out on in her short life. His selfish reasons for keeping away pale in comparison to what he now realises he has done, leaving her scared and alone on countless nights exactly as his father did to him and his brothers. The only difference for her was the incredible women that she had as her nanny.

He looks over to her only to see she had awoken. Her soft, kind eyes looking over them and it's only then that the first tears begin to spill.

I made myself cry writing this by the way 😭😭😭

[corcordium1983]

Not to be sappy on main... but I'm going to be incredibly sappy on main. Six years ago I was Not Doing Well™ and I found an escape in books and films, and I fell in love with a story about two boys somewhere in Italy in the mid-eighties. I recently reread the book and realised it doesn't quite resonate with me anymore, but that's OK, because it gave me one of the most precious and treasured things in my life: my friendship with @timobeechalamet. Matilde, who always makes me laugh and, bless her, has to listen to basically every waking thought that goes through my head. Matilde, who never judges me when I admit I'm struggling with something, and who is always willing to lend an ear if I need to vent. Matilde, who has introduced me to so many great artists, so many good books and films, which has in turn enriched my life infinitely. Matilde, who despite adversity is doing amazing things and will go on to do even more amazing things, and I will be so happy to see it. Matilde, who despite living on opposite ends of the continent, never lets the distance come between us (perks of being introverts I guess). Matilde, who I literally could not picture my life without. If my calculations are correct, we met IRL for the first time exactly 6 years ago to this date, when we went to wave Elio and Oliver goodbye at the Prince Charles Cinema in London. I've been pondering lately how on earth it's only been six years, when it feels like you've been in my life forever, so to honour the occasion I came out of poetry writing retirement to write you a little poem. I don't say it enough, but I love you. 🖤 For Matilde

What does it mean - Before I knew you? I have always known you My essence always reaching for yours Through the ether

I observed our elliptical orbits Slowly, then surely, congrue In times of twilight I could sense Your silhouette whispering with the promise Of a hand to hold

Time folds in on itself I watch your sun-dappled childhood Through a lens of knowing That only comes with age

Your memories were gifted to me retroactively I cherish them like I do my own And you know my mother Though you never got to meet her

Flicking through the photo album Of pictures from my childhood I see the sepia-hued ghost Of future-you, readying to take form I hope I haunt your pictures, too

For now, we can rest in the comfort Of finding someone  Whose trajectory matches your own When the universe does not always comprehend Your singular, brilliant, spark

I want to see you into old age With memories shared - not just borrowed My whispered secrets and shouted truths All of them, I want to give to you

So don’t you say “Before I knew you” I was always waiting for you You were always already here

Thank you, for holding my hand

[arayamahidol]

when did you join ? what made you join ? what do you remember from the plotlines that were current at the time ? where were you in life when you joined and where are you now ?

i hadn't rped since 2017 and during the pandemic around dec 2020/jan 2021 i was sooooo bored since all my work turned remote so i went through the "royal rp" tag and hshq was the only rp other than like one other in the tag at the time. i don't remember any specific plotlines, i just remember being thrown into the nye event on the yacht or something? and that's when hijacking was first introduced iirc. and now i'm trying to buy a house and that makes me want to vomit!

which characters have you written over the years ?

haera, san, io, araya, meixu, okeyo and inna

what is your favourite plotline that you've been part of ?

i think meixu's life in general. i thought she would have found someone and gotten the family she wanted and the happy ending ( w a few struggles ofc ) but she ended up alone and more jaded about life! something more comedic would probably be when araya and ireti got tattoos during the monaco event and she thought her tattoo said ja rule instead of jaurel. and def lawnchair gate.

what about other people's plotlines ?

when matilde pushed arnauld into the pool. the english plotline was supes fun to watch unfold.

who is your favourite character from the ones you've played ? why ? what made you love them ? what made them so fun to write ?

meixu because she's the most different from me personally. she deserved the most and the best, but always ate shit asjfhsadkf araya was the easiest to write. she had some good one liners. going to miss my flat assed baddie ♡

if you could relive a plotline, which would it be ?

lawn chair or the lunch thread with the solets. evy, kit and i were in shambles about it. we still bring it up every now and then and idk why it's still just as funny to us as it was back then.

is there a plotline that you'd edit now if you could ?

i don't think so

what's a plotline you wish you would have been able to finish before closing or just write more of ?

probably meixu, she feels the most incomplete. i wish i could have wrote more on how jianguo's death affected her and how that changed her relationships. the other one would be auraya since i honestly did not think they'd last, but here they are, still sharing a single brain cell ♡ if the africa plot actually took off, that would have been fun.

what is your favourite ooc memory ?

when e and i were writing lawnchair gate, giggling nonstop beside each other. we tasked ourselves to a challenge where if i wrote a two word reply, she'd have to write a three word reply, and then my next reply would have to be four words ( you get the idea ). we would count how many words the other person wrote because we'd lose track and then mess up and have to count again. whenever there would be a red carpet event like the oscars or during fashion week, j and i would always play this game of who in hshq would wear it. it was fun. when kit and i spent an entire night trying to pronounce all the characters names and we'd attempt it at first and play the actual pronunciation after and die about how inaccurate we were. and ofc, throwing tomatoes at jo in the disc chat ♡

where can others find you if they want to get in touch ?

discord, but i'll probably not be that responsive sdfhsdf i'm not that great with keeping in touch with people 😭

what else would you like to say ?

i know i joined a bit later and haven't made as big of an impact as others, but i honestly thought i would last two weeks and end up becoming inactive because established groups are intimidating! i'm glad i gave it a chance, i met some really good friends on here that are beyond just "rp friends"! this feels like a high school graduation since this will be the last time we all see each other on the dash like this and it's very bittersweet! hshq was a great distraction for me during the pandemic and i feel honoured to have wrote alongside you all and i'm happy i was able to make so many gifs of so many different faceclaims. loved seeing you all use them.

[rita-rae-siller]

Last Line/Excerpt Share/Proud of Tag~

I was tagged by @gabeorelse! Thank you for the tag! I have been meaning to post more story writing and this gives me an excuse to do so. Here’s an excerpt I’m very proud of. Introducing Alura’s honorary dad figure, Aalvor.

Excerpt that I am immensely proud of: (fair warning, it is a bit long because this is one scene from an entire chapter. But the whole scene is too good to not share)

Smoke and fire were visible from Minos, even a hundred miles away on the coast in Hellske. With a weary sigh, Alura took a swig from the bottle of red wine in her hand and rested her head against the window frame she was sitting in. Part of her wondered if the soldiers left behind were still fighting futilely. That she had to leave anyone behind at all left a bitter taste in her mouth. She knew full well that they couldn’t have stayed another day with the daily bombings and raids going on. But that didn’t make it any easier to wrestle the guilt down. Perhaps if she’d done something different, been more aggressive in establishing a perimeter for the men to fall back to, more of them might have been able to get out. With a tired sigh, she downed the last of the bottle and rose to her feet to fetch another from the rack on the wall by the dresser. Just as she pulled the cork free, there was a knock at the door. Hoping that the intruder might take the hint and leave, Alura ignored it and returned to the window seat. It was well after midnight. If she couldn’t fall asleep on her own, she wanted to enjoy drinking herself into oblivion undisturbed.

The door opened without her approval, much to her annoyance. Alura could just see Aalvor out of the corner of her eye, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. She took a long, slow drink from the bottle, maintaining her silence as he shut the door behind him. No words were necessary to know exactly what the cause of his displeasure was.

“Is now a good time, Your Grace?” He asked quietly.

“Well, you’re already in here. I don’t think I have a choice,” Alura replied, keeping her gaze on the smoke in the distance. He never had approved of her drinking, but it was a vice she couldn’t quite bring herself to give up. Life gave her a lot to drink about. “Is there a problem, Captain?”

Aalvor took a seat beside her and slid the leather dossier she’d brought with her from Eredahl into her lap. “Why didn’t you tell me the emperor planned to let Minos fall?” 

“I take it you didn’t just stumble upon this out in the wild?” Alura took another swig of wine and tossed the dossier across the room to her bed, where it promptly slid across the silk sheets and onto the floor with a loud thud. Foolishly, while she was working her way through her first bottle of wine, she’d left it on her bedside table to walk about the battlements of the keep. Hellske wasn’t as cold as Eredahl or Minos at night. In vain, she’d hoped the fresh air would clear her head. Aalvor must have come looking for her earlier and taken it while she was out. Its disappearance led her to open a second bottle, and then a third.

“You should be more careful with information that sensitive,” He said. “So, why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“You didn’t need to know. It was a delicate situation, and I couldn’t risk anyone else finding out,” Alura replied. That wasn’t a lie, but she refused to even think about the subject. Avoiding another spiral into despair was exactly why she’d started drinking in the first place. 

“Was it because of Her Eminence?” He asked. 

“It doesn’t concern you.” Alura frowned at the mere mentioning of her. Magistrate Serbyris had been kind enough to offer her—and her alone—board in his castle while Matilde stayed in the Temple of Gora. The split up triggered another colorful outburst, just as Alura knew it would. It all seemed worthless now. Even with the physical distance between them, Alura couldn’t get away from her.

“Did you know we were going into a stirred up hornet’s nest back there?”

“You read the dossier, didn’t you? It’s all in there.”

“I wanted to hear it from you.” 

“It’s not like I had a say in anything. I’m just a dog following orders, same as you.”

“It’s a simple question, Your Grace.” 

“Why do you want to know so desperately?” Alura raised the bottle to her lips again, but Aalvor snatched it away. 

“Mother’s Mercy, Alura; get a grip.” He tossed the bottle out the open window before she could take it back. “You’ve been quiet ever since we left Eredahl, even more-so since Minos. How many times will you let her break your heart?”

“You’re assuming I had anything left of it to break in the first place.” Alura rose to her feet, cursing the pins and needles in her leg as she hobbled back to the wine rack and browsed what the magistrate had brought in for her. Spotting a familiar bottle of port wine—something thick, sweet, and most importantly, fortified with hard liquor—she opened the bottle and turned to face him, shamelessly downing half of it in one go while he scowled at her. Now, after two full bottles of red wine, part of a third, and a fresh brandy infusion settling in, she was beginning to feel a bit better about it all. Maybe Matilde was right. Perhaps the emperor really had sent them east to die. But what did she care? An end to the madness didn’t sound so bad. It took a lot of effort to try and keep a crumbling empire afloat on her own, and it brought her a dark sense of satisfaction to know just how violently the place would go down in flames without her. 

“You’re drunk,” Aalvor said flatly, crossing his arms in a very fatherly fashion.

“And you’re not my father,” She replied, leaning against the dresser for support as the room began to tilt steeply to one side. He never liked seeing her in this sort of state. The subtle look of disappointment, much like the one gleaming in his eyes now, never failed to make her crumble. As of late, she’d seen that look frequently from him. 

“I’m as good as. No one else cares to tell you when you’re embarrassing yourself.” Aalvor gestured for the bottle. “Give it here.”

“Are you going to throw this one out the window too?”

“No. If I’m to put up with your theatrics at this hour, I may as well join you in your drinking,” 

Suspiciously, Alura took a step forward and handed him the bottle. In true soldier’s fashion, the remaining contents disappeared down his throat in a matter of seconds. He made a face as the last of it went down and patted the seat next to him. With a heavy sigh, she sat down beside him. She had to slouch to rest her head on his shoulder, but the discomfort was worth the warm arm he wrapped around her. 

“Did you really read the dossier?” She asked. There were a great many plans and plots crammed and condensed within its pages. Most of it she didn’t even read, just glanced over apathetically. All of the words bled together into one overarching theme:

Garmora’s fate rested completely in her hands.

“Yes. You know how horribly nosy I am when it comes to the schemes and plots you get mixed up in.” He squeezed her shoulder tightly. “Are you scared?”

“Terrified.” Alura buried her head into his neck. Most of the orders she had been given were unclear, incoherent, or talked of battles and enemies long past, some before Alura had even been born. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to navigate such dilemmas. Deviating from her orders was a guaranteed whipping or branding, even if her refusal to follow orders resulted in victory. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“You can and you will, for you are the next Hariiv; sent by the heavenly father to lead our people through the storm of war to paradise. We have known this for decades.”

“The Hariiv is always male. The priests say it is so,” Alura snorted in amusement. Maybe if she had been lucky enough to be born a man, she wouldn’t have the same struggles that bore down on her at every waking moment of the day. 

“You are named after one of the greatest Hariiv of all time, and she is the reason Garmora lived to become the empire it is today. Let the priests say what they will--being a woman has nothing to do with your ability to lead and protect."

“I don’t stand a chance if it comes to an election by the College. Taking the empire by force will cause widespread chaos.”

“Who could challenge you when the entire imperial army stands behind you?”

“She’s currently sleeping in that temple down there by the docks,” Alura replied. Soldiers wouldn’t help her convince the masses that she was their divine guardian. Matilde held the reluctant favor of the temples, and many at court preferred her over Alura. At least Matilde was human. “He wants her dead. Soon. I worry what will happen when it happens. If it even happens.”

“I have told you many times since you first accepted the task that I would happily take that burden from your shoulders. Stain my hands instead of your own with this deed.” 

“She’s never struck me before. How stupid I was to think I would ever get through this unscathed.” It took all of Alura’s might to keep her lower lip from trembling at the thought. It was childish of her to weep over something so insignificant, but the throbbing ache in her chest was unbearable. “Can everything she’s done ever justify taking such actions? What sort of monster have I become to even consider doing such a thing?”

“Matilde is not just a harmless victim of circumstance,” He said, gently squeezing her shoulder again. “The woman has committed evil atrocities, and transgressed against you without remorse. We should have left her in Minos.”

“The final order hasn’t been given yet. Unless I catch her in the act of something treasonous, I have to stay my hand until He says otherwise.” 

“Will you tell me when the time comes?”

“If you insist.”

“Is my help so distasteful?” Aalvor chuckled. “You’ve never wanted it, even when you were a little girl learning how to hold a blade.”

“Don’t get sentimental on me now,” Alura groaned, but couldn’t fight off the smile that twitched at her lips. He had been the only constant in her life. The only good one, anyway. She’d never admit it to his face, but he was the closest thing to a father she had. No one else showed her such devotion, or kindness.

“I’m an old man. It’s what we do.” He gave her another squeeze. “Can you promise me something?”

“You know I’m terrible at keeping your promises.”

“Yet I keep asking anyway.”

“What am I promising?”

“That you’ll let me kill her the next time she causes you harm—directly or indirectly. I have watched you suffer enough at her hands.”

“What a bloodthirsty thing to say. I’m surprised at you.” Alura nudged him and sat up to spare her back that was now beginning to ache. “I’ll entertain the thought.”

“You should get some rest, Your Grace,” Aalvor said as he rose to his feet. He shook the empty bottle in his hand at her. “You’ve had enough of this. That’s an order.”

“Yes, Sir,” Alura saluted him with a flourish and a smile. “Goodnight, Captain”

“Good night, Your Grace.”

Tagging: (feel free to engage or decline!)

@theink-stainedfolk @sidebyside-withafriend @jonquilandlace @maggieharlan

[maybeimamuppet]

the pursuit of a name

hello everyone!! 

i might as well reintroduce myself here since i’ll likely get some new readers! i’m ezzy and i’m 21, i usually write for mean girls the musical but i’ve recently watched the new matilda movie and hohoooo the hyperfixation resurgence was just. WOW so anyway! here i am lol

there’ll be more information for you towards the end but i don’t want to take up too much space at the beginning. 

tw for 

mentioned/implied abuse 

and please let me know if i miss any warnings so i can add them in!!

enjoy!!

—————

“I’m back,” Matilda says as she opens and closes the door to their place. 

“Hi, darling,” Miss Honey greets. “Is Mrs. Phelps well?”

“Oh, yes,” Matilda says as she comes to join her in the kitchen. “She gave me this for you.”

“Oh,” Miss Honey says as Matilda rests a well-loved copy of An Honest Thief on the table. “I’ve been wanting to read this again.”

“I know,” Matilda says with an impish smile. “Oh, she gave me extra lemonade for you, too.” 

“How nice of her, thank you,” Miss Honey says as Matilda puts the tin thermos on the table as well. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m working on a few papers to finalize your adoption,” Miss Honey sighs. 

“Oh.” Matilda says. 

“Oh?” Miss Honey questions, peeking at her over the tops of her reading glasses. “Are you upset about it?” 

“Aren’t you?” Matilda asks softly. “You look stressed.” 

“No, darling, no,” Miss Honey says immediately. “The forms have been… a challenge, just because we have no way of getting in touch with your biological parents. Some information I need, I can’t get. But there’s ways around the lot of that for circumstances like ours.”

“Oh.” Matilda says again. “What information?”

“Nothing I think you’d know, brilliant as you are,” Miss Honey sighs, removing her glasses and leaving them to hang by the chain around her neck. “Oh, but your middle name, what is that?” 

“I haven’t got one,” Matilda says quietly. “My parents said I was lucky I got a name at all.” 

Miss Honey sighs and gently tips up Matilda’s chin. “They were lucky that they got a Matilda.” 

Matilda gives her a small grin, but there’s a sadness behind it that makes Miss Honey frown. 

“We have the opportunity to change your name when your adoption goes through. Would you like to?” 

“I’m not sure,” Matilda says. “I… I am Matilda. I like my name.”

“We don’t have to change your first name if you don’t want to. Matilda is a perfectly suitable and lovely name for you,” Miss Honey says. “But if you’d like to pick a middle name for yourself, we could do that.” 

Matilda mulls this over. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” Miss Honey says comfortingly. “Take all the time you need. A name is a big decision.” 

Matilda nods. “I’m going to go put these in my bedroom.”

“Alright,” Miss Honey says as Matilda stands and grabs her large stack of new books. “Oh, that reminds me!”

Matilda pauses on the staircase and turns to see her. 

“We still need to decorate. Would you like to head to the shops today and see what we can find?” 

Matilda’s face splits into a wide smile and she nods eagerly. Miss Honey grins back and motions her up the stairs. Matilda heads up a few more before she pauses again. “Miss Honey?”

“Yes?” 

“Will I be a Honey too?” Matilda asks. “When I’m adopted?” 

“If… if you’d like to be,” Miss Honey says, trying to hide her excitement. “Is that what you’d want?” 

Matilda nods. “Matilda Honey sounds much nicer than Matilda Wormwood.” 

“Then you’ll be Matilda Honey,” Miss Honey confirms. Matilda smiles again and rushes up the stairs. 

—-

“What sort of theme do you think you’d like your room to have?” Miss Honey asks as they peruse the aisles of the home decor shop. 

“I don’t know,” Matilda says softly, holding her hand as she looks at all the different options. Dinosaurs, flowers, the circus, dogs, different cartoon characters… it’s overwhelming.

“That’s alright,” Miss Honey says comfortingly. “We can take our time with it. How about we start with a color, to simplify things? Do you have a favorite color, Matilda?” 

“Blue,” Matilda responds. “Would a blue bedroom be too terribly depressing?” 

“I don’t think so,” Miss Honey replies. “Blue is a very relaxing color, I think that would be a fine color to paint your room.”

“Do you like blue, Miss Honey?” Matilda asks, looking up at her. 

“I do,” Miss Honey says. “I think it’s a wonderful color. So many lovely things are blue.” 

“Like the sky,” Matilda says. 

“And bluebells,” Miss Honey says. 

“And the sea.”

“And your eyes,” Miss Honey says, gently tapping the end of Matilda’s nose. Matilda blinks in shock before she giggles faintly. “Let’s go pick some paint.” 

Matilda follows her to the paint aisle and looks around at all the different swatch cards. Miss Honey picks a few blue ones and starts perusing the different shade names. 

“These colors have very strange names,” Matilda says as she grabs a few too. 

“They do, don’t they?” Miss Honey chuckles. “Look here, this one’s called Lost at Sea.” 

Matilda giggles as she holds up one of the cards. “I’ve got one called English Channel.”

Miss Honey chuckles as she reads the one Matilda holds up. “How funny. It’s a lovely shade, though.” 

“It is,” Matilda agrees with a nod. “But I like this one.” 

“Light Sky,” Miss Honey reads through the glasses perched on the tip of her nose. “It’s quite peaceful.”

“Yes,” Matilda says. “Whenever I got overwhelmed before I could do my telekinesis, I used to imagine myself floating in the sky with the clouds. On a hot air balloon, or something. And I was so high up nothing could bother me anymore.” 

“That sounds lovely,” Miss Honey murmurs softly. “Would you like to do that in your room? We could paint the walls this color if you’d like, and add clouds.”

“Could we?” 

Miss Honey crouches down to her eye level. “We can do whatever we’d like.” 

Matilda beams and tackles her in a hug. Miss Honey squeezes her close and gently strokes through the soft ends of Matilda’s hair. They stay that way for a moment, both of them relishing in having someone dear they can hold close, before Miss Honey grabs the swatch card and heads to find someone to mix it up for them. Matilda follows, tightly holding her hand. 

—-

They start painting the next day. They were both quite exhausted after their shopping day, but Matilda is so eager to get started that Miss Honey can’t find it in herself to push it back any further. 

They don some tattered old things of Miss Honey’s that can stand to get covered in paint. Matilda giggles when she sees her in the ill-fitting and informal sweatshirt and jeans. Miss Honey laughs right back seeing Matilda swimming in an old button-down blouse with holes in the elbows and some shorts tied to fit around her waist. 

“Miss Honey?” Matilda asks as she takes a small brush to outline the electrical outlets. 

“Yes, Matilda?” Miss Honey replies as she rolls the blue over a section of the first wall. 

“What’s your middle name?” 

“My middle name is Faith,” Miss Honey says. “My father said that it took so much faith for he and my mother to have me that they hardly even had to think about it.” 

“Jennifer Faith Honey,” Matilda recites to herself. “It’s pretty.”

“Thank you,” Miss Honey says. 

“Is it very common to take someone else’s middle name?” Matilda asks as she outlines the light switch. 

“Not very common, I would think,” Miss Honey says. 

“Oh,” Matilda replies. Miss Honey smiles sadly. 

“Were you hoping to share a name?” 

“Not really,” Matilda shrugs. “I’m just looking for inspiration.” 

“I think you’ll know when you find the proper one for you,” Miss Honey says, finishing the first wall. 

“Matilda Faith sounds nice, but I don’t think it’s right for me,” Matilda replies. 

“And that’s perfectly alright. We’ll get your name sorted out whenever you find the right one for you,” Miss Honey says. She takes a step back to admire her work. “What do you think?”

“It’s brilliant,” Matilda says, unable to keep a smile off her face. 

“Good,” Miss Honey says, panting a bit for breath. “Hard work, isn’t it?” 

Matilda rests her brush on the tray and nods, coming to hug her. “Thank you.” 

“Of course, my little firefly,” Miss Honey murmurs, kissing the top of her head. “You’ve got paint in your hair.” 

“You smell of it.” 

“I think we’ll both need a bath after we finish here,” Miss Honey chuckles. 

They continue chatting as they paint the other three walls. Matilda eventually finishes all her outlets and joins in using the rollers. With the both of them working it goes much more quickly, though Matilda can only reach about three quarters of the way up the wall with hers and has to leave Miss Honey to do the rest. 

By the time they finish the last, the first wall has dried. Miss Honey cracks open the can of white paint they purchased and takes a sponge. Matilda watches curiously as she dabs it in seemingly random spots on the wall in front of her, until she pulls back and reveals a quaint little cloud. 

“What do you think?” 

“It’s fantastic,” Matilda beams. Miss Honey smiles back and holds out the sponge. 

“Why don’t you do a few?” 

Matilda takes the sponge from her hand and dips it into the paint. She picks a spot on the wall and stares at it, unmoving.

“Matilda?” 

“What if I ruin it?” Matilda asks worriedly. Miss Honey gently rests a hand on her shoulder and leans in to look from Matilda’s eye level. 

“Have you ever seen a perfect cloud?” she asks softly. Matilda thinks before she shakes her head. “Then how could you ruin it?” 

She gently slides her hand down Matilda’s arm and guides the sponge to the wall. Once it’s squished against the surface and the first splotch of white is there, Matilda’s fear dissipates the slightest bit. She pulls it away and dabs it around in a few more spots before she takes a step back to see what she’s done. 

A delightful, fluffy looking cloud sits before her. 

“Beautiful,” Miss Honey says. “Do a few more.” 

“What are you going to do?” Matilda asks. Her eyes widen as Miss Honey suddenly pulls out several tiny pots of various colored paints. 

“Skies with just clouds are boring, don’t you think?” 

Matilda smiles and nods. Miss Honey grabs a step stool and heads to the corner of the wall closest to Matilda’s window. 

Matilda sponges on another cloud as Miss Honey outlines a hot air balloon in a rainbow of colors. 

Miss Honey is beautiful when she’s concentrating on something. Matilda likes watching her read, or cook, or clean, or do paperwork. Anything, really. Her eyes aren’t angry the way her parents’ used to be. They simply look… excited. Welcoming to whatever this project she’s working on might bring her. 

Her hair is unkempt today, since they’ve been working so hard. Matilda observes the frizzy strands framing her face, illuminated from behind by the afternoon sun streaming in through the window. She looks like the angels in all those paintings in the books about art Matilda has read. Matilda doesn’t believe in angels in the biblical sense, but if there ever was a real one, it would be Miss Honey.

The silence between them is peaceful as they continue working on the accent wall. Matilda’s old house was always loud; whether due to her parents shouting at each other or just the ever-on television. It’s quiet, here, but in a comforting sort of way. Miss Honey doesn’t feel a need to speak all the time. Matilda appreciates that. 

Miss Honey starts humming a tune to herself as she works. She sings and hums a lot. Her voice is soft, and sweet. She almost never notices she’s doing it. Matilda often just sits and listens to the comforting, dulcet tones of her voice. She doesn’t dare mention the humming or the singing to Miss Honey’s face, lest she become self conscious and stop it altogether. 

Their home is quiet, but not silent. And Matilda is perfectly happy with that. 

-

The sun is beginning to set by the time they finish with their respective tasks. Miss Honey has painted the most beautiful hot air balloon Matilda could’ve possibly imagined, with stripes in every color of the rainbow holding up the little basket. 

“I think we need one last finishing touch,” Miss Honey says as they admire their handiwork from the other side of the room, hands resting pensively on their chins. 

“Finishing touch?” 

Miss Honey grabs the yellow paint and pours some into an empty tray. Matilda approaches in confusion, which only grows when Miss Honey sticks her hands into it. 

“Miss Honey!” 

“I think…” Miss Honey says pensively, looking at every little place on the wall. She reaches up high and places one hand on the wall. “Here.” 

“What are you doing?” Matilda giggles. Miss Honey lines up her other hand against the first handprint so it’s facing the other way and repeats the motion. 

“Come on,” Miss Honey coaxes, motioning to the paint with a smile. Matilda hesitates for a second before sticking her little hands into the gloopy yellow paint. Miss Honey comes up behind her and hoists her into the air. “Put one handprint there.” 

Matilda does, lining up her hand so it’s perpendicular to Miss Honey’s handprints and squishing it against the wall. She squeals slightly as the paint oozes and gets between her fingers. 

“And there,” Miss Honey coaches. Matilda puts handprints everywhere Miss Honey points to, and smiles as she’s rested gently back on the ground. 

“The sun,” she says when she sees what their handprints have made. 

“I think that’s the best sun I’ve ever made,” Miss Honey says proudly. 

“Our thumbprints made a love heart,” Matilda giggles, standing on her tippy toes to show the part where their thumbs overlapped. “There.” 

“I think that’s fitting,” Miss Honey says quietly. Matilda smiles up at her. Miss Honey smiles back. “Now, I think it’s time we leave this to dry and go wash up for dinner.” 

Matilda nods. Impishly, when Miss Honey turns, she presses a still-yellow hand against her backside. Miss Honey yelps and whirls around. 

“Oh, you little gremlin!” she says. Unlike all the previous times Matilda has heard those words, there’s not a hint of malice behind it. She squeals as Miss Honey lunges for her and leaves a print on her shoulder. Matilda grabs a brush and some of the unused paint in other colors and swipes some over her sleeve. 

Miss Honey grabs some purple and swipes some onto Matilda’s nose. Matilda gasps, going a bit cross-eyed as she stares at her purple nose. Miss Honey bites her lip as she tries in vain to hold back a laugh, like she herself can’t believe she just did that. 

It turns to a shriek as Matilda suddenly charges, armed with some green that she swipes all over Miss Honey’s jeans. Miss Honey retaliates by grabbing her and spinning her around in a circle, leaving Matilda laughing harder than she thinks she’s ever laughed in her life and completely unable to do anything other than sink to the plastic-covered ground in exhaustion when she lets her go.

Miss Honey laughs as she lies next to her, staring up at the as-yet undecorated ceiling. “Oh, you make me laugh, Matilda.” 

“You make me laugh too, Miss Honey,” Matilda says quietly. Unthinkingly, she reaches for and squeezes her hand. Miss Honey squeezes her back. 

—————-

“Mrs. Phelps?” Matilda asks the next week during one of her daily visits to the book bus. 

“Yes, Matilda?” Mrs. Phelps replies, her turbaned head popping out from behind a shelf.

“What’s your name?” 

“My name?”

“I’ve only ever known you as Mrs. Phelps. What’s your first name, your middle name?” Matilda asks. 

“Why do you want to know so suddenly?” Mrs. Phelps asks, sitting in her chair and pouring a glass of lemonade. 

“I just think a person’s name is a good thing to know,” Matilda explains. Mrs. Phelps doesn’t seem to notice her dodging the question. 

“My first name is Praveena,” she says. “And my middle name is Dawn.” 

“Praveena Dawn Phelps,” Matilda says. Mrs. Phelps nods. “I like your names.”

“Thank you. I like yours too,” Mrs. Phelps replies. Matilda sips thoughtfully at her lemonade. 

“Do you have any books about names?”

“I must, somewhere” Mrs. Phelps tuts. “Remind me to organize my sections.” 

“I remind you every time I visit, Mrs. Phelps.”

“You do,” Mrs. Phelps acknowledges. “Fat lot of good it does, eh?”

“Miss Honey and I could help you do it sometime,” Matilda says as they both scan the shelves for anything to do with names. “She’s been wanting to visit you more.”

“Has she?” Mrs. Phelps says, a bit louder than she needs to since she’s a slight distance away. “She’s always welcome.” 

“I’ll let her know. We’ll clear a day,” Matilda says. 

“Ah! Here we are,” Mrs. Phelps calls. Matilda rushes over as she pulls out a small stack of dust-covered baby naming books. “I’ll keep an eye out for others, but this should be enough to get you started.”

“Oh, yes, this is perfect!” Matilda says. “May I borrow these?”

“Of course, Matilda,” Mrs. Phelps says. “What are you up to? Trying to name a character in a story of yours?”

“You could say that,” Matilda replies softly, staring at the books in her hands. “Thank you Mrs. Phelps! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“By the windmill!” Mrs. Phelps calls as she goes rushing out the door. 

“Windmill!” Matilda yells to acknowledge she heard. Mrs. Phelps shakes her head affectionately and starts packing up for the day. 

—————

“Your new room is brilliant,” Lavender says upon seeing it for the first time. It’s come a good ways since the painting of the walls. Every day they add a little something. Matilda has a proper, massive, cozy bed with fluffy white sheets and pillows and blankets like a cloud. 

She has a huge bookshelf, large enough to practically take up the whole wall. Miss Honey has been taking her to bookstores as well as her visits to Mrs. Phelps at the library, so it’s filling up quite quickly. She has her own desk for schoolwork and a place to read. And Miss Honey even put together a special reading nook in the corner, with a plush carpet and rainbow-colored cushions to sit on, and a tulle rainbow curtain hanging from the ceiling like a tent. It’s everything a little girl could want from a bedroom. “Thank you.”

“What are you reading this time?” Lavender asks around a mouthful of bubblegum, lying on her stomach on Matilda’s new bed. 

“A book of baby names,” Matilda replies. 

“Baby names? What baby?” Lavender asks. She gasps suddenly. “Is Miss Honey-”

“No, she’s not,” Matilda interrupts. “I’m trying to pick my middle name.”

“You don’t have one?”

“No,” Matilda replies. “And I can’t find one for myself, either.” 

“My mum says picking my middle names was harder than my first,” Lavender agrees. 

“What’s yours?” 

“I’ve got three,” Lavender replies.

“Three?!” Matilda asks in shock. 

“My whole family kind of does. In the Philippines a lot of people have got two first names, and their mum’s old last name usually becomes a middle name,” Lavender says. “My parents gave me two first names and two middle names. But I count the second first one as a middle one.”

“That’s lucky,” Matilda says. “What are they?”

“My first name is Lavender-Maria,” Lavender says. “And my middle names are Elizabeth and Santos.”

“Lavender-Maria Elizabeth Santos Torres,” Matilda says. 

“In the flesh,” Lavender says with a nod. 

“How did your mother pick your middle name? The Elizabeth one, I mean?” Matilda asks, closing her book and gently putting it aside. 

“I dunno,” Lavender says with a small shrug. “She said she thought about names she’d seen and that she liked. In stories, and stuff. And she picked one from that. But she picked my brother’s because his middle name is our dad’s dad’s dad’s name.” 

“Stories…” Matilda mumbles to herself. She shifts so she’s lying flat on her back, looking up at her ceiling. Miss Honey hung twinkly lights all over it that look like stars when the lights are off. The lights aren’t on right now, since it’s daytime, but they’re one of Matilda’s favorite bits of her new bedroom. “What do you think my middle name should be?” 

“Lavender?” she suggests with a chortle. 

“I wouldn’t want to steal your name,” Matilda replies in complete seriousness. “But it is a lovely name.” 

“What are some of your favorite book characters? Just pick one of them,” Lavender says. 

“Ophelia,” Matilda says. She wrinkles her nose. “Matilda Ophelia sounds like a medical condition.” 

Lavender laughs harder than is probably appropriate. “Yeah.” 

“Sherlock Holmes,” Matilda says.

“He’s a boy.” 

“Yeah,” Matilda sighs. “Casy?” 

“Casy’s not bad,” Lavender says. 

“It still just… doesn’t feel like me,” Matilda grumbles. “How about… Josephine? Miss Honey’s been reading me Little Women before bed this week. She says Jo reminds her of me.”

“Matilda Josephine is just a mouthful,” Lavender says, blunt as always. Matilda nods with a sad sigh. Lavender clocks it, because she sits up and rests a friendly hand on Matilda’s shoulder. “You’ll think of something. You think of everything.” 

Matilda giggles at that. “Thanks, Lavender.” 

“What are best friends for?” Lavender says. 

—————

It takes another month of thinking, and another four name books Mrs. Phelps orders specially for her. Matilda spends practically all of her free time poring over what her middle name should be. She’s had a few that sound nice, but none of them have quite given her that… aha moment. That just right feeling, like the kind you get when a story has the perfect ending. 

She’s about to call off the hunt for a middle name altogether and stick to just being plain Matilda, when something Lavender said comes back to her. 

“But she picked my brother’s because his middle name is our dad’s dad’s dad’s name.”

A family name. 

Matilda never met her own grandparents. They never visited or called. She wonders if her parents even bothered to tell them she existed or not. She doesn’t know their names, or what they look like. Neither of her parents have siblings, so there’s no aunts or uncles to pick from either. She most definitely isn’t interested in naming herself after her parents.

She doesn’t have any family names to pick from. 

She fidgets sadly with a loose thread on Miss Honey’s duvet, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. Miss Honey is working on something for the school at her big wooden desk against the wall. Matilda listens to the sound of her pen scritching quietly across the paper in perfect, even strokes. 

Miss Honey says all the time that Matilda doesn’t have to ask for hugs when she needs one. And Matilda needs one now. 

She stands and pads over to the desk, wrapping her small arms around Miss Honey’s shoulders and resting her chin to peek over the left one. 

“Hello, darling,” Miss Honey says, resting a warm hand against Matilda’s cheek. 

“Hello,” Matilda replies quietly. 

“You alright?” Miss Honey asks. Matilda nods, so Miss Honey gives her a gentle pat and returns to her work. 

Matilda’s eyes wander over the desk. Everything stays in roughly the same place on Miss Honey’s desk. A snow globe that had been a gift from one of her students, a paperweight in the shape of a swan from another. Matilda’s eyes suddenly lock onto the photos of Miss Honey’s parents. 

“Miss Honey?”

“Yes, Matilda?” the woman replies. 

“What was your mother’s name?” Matilda asks quietly. The story that eventually led them both here told Matilda that her father’s name was Magnus, but Matilda never learned Miss Honey’s mother’s name. 

“My mother?” Miss Honey asks. Matilda can feel her smile as she reaches for the photograph. Mrs. Honey was a very beautiful woman. She gave Miss Honey her eyes, and she had dimples too. Matilda never met her, but even looking at the picture just fills her with a sense of love. “Her name was Katherine. But everyone called her Kate.” 

“Kate,” Matilda says. “Would… do you… do you think she’d mind if that became my middle name?” 

Miss Honey turns her chair around and gently takes Matilda’s little hands into her own warm ones, squeezing her palms. 

“I think she would be so honored,” she says. “That a little girl as amazing as you would want to be named after her.” 

“Really?” Matilda asks. Miss Honey has tears brimming in her eyes as she nods. 

“Really. From everything my father told me about her… she would have loved you so much, Matilda. You two would’ve been the best of friends,” she says, her voice trembling the slightest bit. 

“She sounds like I would’ve loved her too,” Matilda says, drying Miss Honey’s tears with little fingers. “As long as she liked to read.” 

“Where do you think I got it from?” Miss Honey asks with a chuckle, pulling Matilda into her lap. Matilda rests against her shoulder as they both look at the photo one more time. 

“Matilda Kate Honey,” Matilda says, more to herself than anything else. The words just feel… right, in her mouth. In her mind. She’s a Honey. And her middle name is Kate. Just like her grandmother. She does have a family name after all. “I love you, Miss Honey.” 

“I love you too, Matilda Kate.”

—————

thank you for reading!!

now to the boring stuff lol

i post on wednesdays!! not every single one, but when i do post things it will be on a wednesday so if you’d like to see more from me that is the day to keep an eye out! 

please feel free to leave requests, whether for these two or not and i will do what i can to make them happen :) 

i am, unfortunately for everyone involved, american, so i apologize for any inaccuracies in their britishness or for any differences in british systems and american systems that i’m not aware of. please bear with me!! 

with the exception of lavender (and likely a few other more ‘background’ characters) i’m going to do my best to leave them as physically vague as possible. for stories like these i think it’s more important that you as the reader be able to imagine whoever you want as these characters; whether that’s yourself, your favorite actor, or something else :) 

going along with that i did as much research as i could about how filipino people handle names but i am not filipino so i apologize sincerely again if anything with lavender wasn’t accurate.

i’m on wattpad and ao3 at the same handle so please feel free to pop in and say hello there if you’d like to!

i think that’s everything!! thank you so much for reading!! i hope you enjoyed and that you have a lovely day! 

[grantmentis]

U18 Women’s World Championship recap

A few different levels finished their tournament, so here’s a brief summary of the top division and division I!

Top division

Final standings

United States - gold

Czechia - silver

Canada - bronze

Finland

Sweden

Slovakia

Switzerland

Germany - regulated

Award winners:

Highlights:

For the second year in a row, a non-north American team was in the finals, and Czechia women capture silver for the first time !

Chloe Primerano, in her first U18 WWC tournament, broke the record for the most points by a defender in tournament history with 16 points. She had 8 goals and 8 assists

Adela Sapovalivova, in her last u18 tournament, finishes as the highest scoring Czech player in u18 women’s world championship history; after a tournament where she adored 9 goals and 2 assists she finishes with 16 goals and 10 assists in 26 u18 WWC games. Forward Tereza Plosová finishes just a point behind her with 25 points in 26 games.

17 year old Finnish player Emma Ekoluoma continues her big year, with 8 goals and 3 assists in 6 games.

To me, the best goaltender was between Aneta Senkova (czechia) and Livia Debranova (Slovakia.) Senkova had the fantastic game against Canada where she made 45 saves. She finished the tournament with a .913 save percentage in 297~ minutes played and 139 shots against. Debranova was also spectacular playing 281 minutes and a .915 save percentage with 201 shots against

Star player Nela Lopušanová (Slovakia) unfortunately saw less ice time than expected due to illness, according to her coach

Division 1A

Japan - promoted to the top division

Italy

Hungary

Austria

France

Denmark - relegated

Highlights:

17 year old Italian forward Matilde Fantin was the top scorer, with 7 goals and 4 assists in 5 games. She currently plays in the SWHL as well, and will be key for an Italian team gearing up for the Olympics in two years

15 year old (!!) forward Umeka Odaira of Japan had a clutch tournament, with a hat trick in the game that got them promoted to the top division. She finished with 9 points in 4 games. Defender and captain Kohane Sato also had a spectacular tournament, with 6 points in 5 games and stellar two way play. Goaltender Haruka kuromaru was also a difference maker, playing all 300 minutes of the tournaments, and ending with a .962 save percentage

Division I B

Norway - promoted

Spain

Poland

Australia

South Korea

Chinese Taipei / Taiwan - relegated

Highlights:

Claudia Castellanos, who recently moved to New Jersey from Spain to play with the ironbound in the 19U AAA league, took a huge step this year on top of already dominate international play and had 11 goals and 3 assists in five games

17 year old Norwegian forward Tilde Simensen played in her first U18 WWC and dominated as well, with 10 goals and 3 assists in five games. She has spent this past season training in Sweden in the division below the SDHL

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 14/? Word count: 3144 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 12. You Don't Trust Me

The race on Sunday was a race that people were looking forward to. It was a perfect weekend for Ferrari so far; Charles qualified on pole, and Carlos would start from P2. Everyone had hope, hope that they could take the win home. But most importantly, Charles could break his curse. Unfortunately, Arthur was still affected with the Leclerc curse at their home Grand Prix, he had DNF'ed towards the end of the race.

There was pressure resting on Ferrari. They wanted to win, they were eager to win. It felt like they were in Miami again; the dynamic within the team was positive and energetic, but this time, it was real. They were one team, no one was left out.

Before the race, Charles almost couldn't control his nerves. The flawless weekend in Monte Carlo was new to him, he never got the chance to finish it flawless. If it wasn't a mechanical failure, it was a crash. He didn't want to let his friends and family down. He wanted to make them proud. He wanted to make the people of Monaco proud, and his fans, who supported him dearly here in Monaco. There was no way he could afford to fail. Again. Charles could make it, he was confident about it.

From the moment the lights went out, Charles and Carlos executed perfect starts. The Ferrari's roared to life, and they shot forward with precision, entering the first turn perfectly. Charles took the lead, showing his skills. As they navigated through the streets of Monaco, there was an air of confidence around both drivers that could be felt even through the TV screens.

The circumstances weren't too perfect, though. The weather played a big role during the Grand Prix. it threatened to rain multiple times, it could ruin everything. Matilde was monitoring everything closely, nothing would go wrong under her watch.

The team's strategy was spot-on. Pit stops were executed with military precision and exemplary tyre management. Charles and Carlos communicated succinctly with their engineers, providing feedback that allowed them to make real-time and quick adjustments to the cars.

Unfortunately, there was an incident with Carlos and Checo. Checo wanted to overtake Carlos, but his tyres locked up, and he touched Carlos. They both dropped down to the fifth and sixth position, behind Ocon. It was frustrating to the team, mostly because it wasn't a mistake from the team or Carlos, but a racing incident. Matilde was disappointed, but she had to keep her head up for Charles, who was delivering outstanding results.

As the laps counted down, the gap between Charles and Max grew. Every time the drivers passed the crowd, they erupted in cheers. The ambience felt special, it felt like everyone was eagerly waiting for this victory. Matilde felt the pressure coming up, just like the nerves. It would be amazing if she could deliver this home victory to Charles, but little did she know what was about to happen in lap 65.

"I want to switch to new softs," Charles said over the board radio. "I want to go for the fastest lap."

Matilde's eyes shot to the times and other data; he had no chance. Her eyebrows were slightly raised, and she bit her upper lip. She looked at Xavi, waiting for his answer.

"Negative," Xavi replied.

Matilde nodded, the only right answer. As much as she wanted to give Charles a grand slam, it was impossible to do so. Xavi's response was in line with their strategy, and she couldn't afford to gamble that would make a difference between a win and not.

"I'm gliding on these tyres," Charles mentioned again. "We're losing time as well."

"Negative," Xavi said again. "We will not take the risk. We stick to plan A."

"I am losing time because of the tyres."

"You're not losing time. Stay out."

"I am losing time. I want new softs," Charles clarified.

Matilde took a deep breath, and she looked annoyed. What part of the 'we will not take the risk' does he not understand?

"I want to take the risk and go for the fastest lap," Charles explained again.

"Negative."

"I'm coming in," Charles repeated, his frustration clear in his voice.

It was time for Matilde to stir. She felt a pang of irritation. She knew Charles was a fierce competitor, especially now he was about to win his home Grand Prix after a faultless weekend, but right now, he couldn't afford a pit stop. "Stay out, I repeat, stay out," she replied on the board radio, her irritation subtle creeping into her tone.

"I am losing time!" Charles protested.

"We do not have a free pit stop." She looked at his position on the track. "If you pit right now, you will end up behind Max with a gap of five seconds. There will be no chance to overtake him in the time that is left," she sternly said. Her eyes shot to the data; yes, Max was gaining time every lap, but Charles didn't lose time. By the time they finish, Charles would still be far ahead of Max if he stayed out. Matilde's eyes darted to the pits, the Ferrari crew was ready with fresh tyres. "If you come in, you will lose your chance for a victory. Stay out," she mentioned again, her patience wearing thin. "Abort this pitstop."

The pit stop crew were stepping inside the garage again, exactly what Matilde told them to do. She looked back at the screens again, Charles was pushing, exactly what he needed to do if he wanted a free pit stop. Seconds passed, and everything looked great again.

"... I'm already in."

Matilde's face straightened, and she looked at her screen; indeed, he had entered the pits. She turned around and saw a red car approaching their garage. "Are you serious?" she mumbled to herself, looking disapprovingly at Charles, who now stopped. She ignored his rant over the board radio, letting it all happen. The pit crew panicked and ran out with the fresh tyres. Matilde looked down, seeing how the guys struggled. Malicious pleasure, this was an almost malicious pleasure.

To make matters worse, the right rear tyre didn't want to go on. They were struggling. Matilde could only look at it and think how unnecessary this was. After a good twenty extra seconds, the tyre was on, and Charles drove away. It was silent, completely silent. Matilde's eyes followed the car to the exit. She turned around, facing the data and standings.

P5.

"No, no, no! Fuck!" Charles yelled.

Consequences of his own actions, she thought. This hurt. She couldn't help but feel annoyed at how a possible win had slipped away. The camera filmed how the crew in the garage reacted: they were bummed. She felt a camera on her, filming her reaction; she wanted to laugh and yell at the same time, but she told him not to come in, and this was not her mistake.

The data continued to roll in. Carlos moved a position up, making him a podium candidate. He was pushing, closing the gap with Alonso, trying to take the second position from him. Charles was pushing hard, trying to regain his lost positions during the disastrous pit stop. However, time was running out, and the gap between the cars in front of him was significant.

As the laps ticked away, Charles managed to close the gap with Ocon, but he couldn't pass him. It was a bummer that the victory that had seemed so certain earlier in this race had slipped through his fingers. Charles finished fifth, and Carlos was third. It wasn't the result the team hoped for, but the third position was the best they could accept this weekend. Matilde thanked the entire team for their performances and left the pit wall.

On the way to the podium, Matilde ran into Sylvia. They made eye contact.

"Expression," Sylvia said, pointed at her face and passed her.

Matilde straightened her face, trying to keep it neutral. She knew she had a face that was easy to read, but she had no idea it was that obvious. And apparently, her face showed what she thought during the race. When she entered the track, many people were already applauding Max, who got out of his car. Matilde decided to stand in the back, she didn't want to face the media and show her face. She wanted to give the team the celebration, they were standing in the front for Carlos.

"So, eh..." Christian found Matilde in the crowd and stood next to her. "What happened?"

"The Monaco curse," Matilde casually replied.

His eyebrows raised.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked in front of her. "It's a circus," she concluded and shook her head.

He leaned closer to her. "They can read lips, you know," he whispered.

"Consequences of his own actions."

"You can't really say that as team principal, Matilde. You can think it, not say it."

Her eyebrows raised, and she looked at her former boss. The man was known for openly sharing his opinions. "I'm saying this as Matilde, a supporter of the sport, to a friend. You will not hear me say this in the media or in front of the team."

Christian looked at her; he was impressed. He knew her as a sweet woman who barely shared her thoughts. Now she turned into a confident woman with an opinion, she showed no insecurities. A real leader.

"What?"

"Nothing," Christian said.

"But, eh, what was that? With Checo?" She looked unamused at him. Christian's eyes widened. She shook her head in disappointment. "It's a shame. Again."

"We haven't had a chance to speak to our drivers yet. It's too soon to speak."

"Yeah," she mumbled. "We will talk." Matilde looked at him, sharing a waitingful look before snorting when she saw his smile, a playful smile, he still couldn't accept the fact how much she had grown into a leader in a couple of months. "No, but for real, I don't accept this - professional-wise."

"We will talk," he repeated. "But hey, I wanted to ask if you want to join us for dinner tonight. Toto and Susie are coming as well."

Matilde let out a smirk. "You and Toto?" She turned to him. "Secret bromance?"

"Get out of here," he responded immediately. "No, Geri and Susie organised something. We are just being good husbands."

She nodded. "Thank you, but I will have to pass. You have no idea how much trouble I got into the last time I went out with you."

"Was it that bad?"

She blew up her cheeks and looked at him with a 'you don't want to know' look. "Maybe next time, but I really appreciate it." Matilde gave a nod to the front. "Go to your team, celebrate the victory."

Christian padded her shoulder. "Have a good word with your team before leaving."

Matilde looked at him when he walked away. Of course, she would have a good word with her team. Her eyes shot to the podium, she clapped and smiled proudly when Carlos entered the podium, she was still satisfied with the result. It may not be the win they were hoping and aiming for and definitely not the position, but at least one of the Ferrari drivers ended up on the podium after a difficult battle. When Alonso entered the podium, she also clapped. As a supporter, she liked to see Alonso on the podium - she grew up watching him as one of the best on the grid. And then Max, she smiled again and clapped. She grew up with Max at Red Bull, they were close friends, and she was proud of him. The Dutch and Austrian anthems blew through the speakers; once, they were anthems, Matilde lived for.

After the ceremony, Matilde went to Carlos to congratulate him on the podium. They had a brief chat about the race and the slightly disappointing result. Matilde said she was still satisfied with his performance and how helpful he was to the team throughout the race. Then, she told him to go to the media pen for the interviews. Once she arrived in the paddock, she got stopped for an interview with Sky Sports Italy.

"Matilde, there was a dramatic moment when Carlos collided with Checo. Can you tell us something about it?"

Matilde's expression was serious. "The incident was unfortunate, especially in the position Sainz was racing in. He lost some positions, but he managed to make it up and ended up on the podium. We still have to talk about it during the debrief, so I can't share much."

The reporter then asked about the disastrous pit stop. "What happened? How did it go wrong? It seemed to create a lot of tension between you and Charles. Can you talk us through the moment?"

Matilde maintained her professionalism, but couldn't hide a glance of disappointment. "Unfortunately, I cannot give you a comment on it. That is something the team and I have to talk about first."

"But how did it go so wrong? Charles was leading the race, having an outstanding race, a fantastic weekend... And then this?"

"As I said, the team and I have to talk about it before we can share any thoughts," Matilde gave the people a nod and stepped away, not wanting to participate in the interview if they only wanted to talk about the pit stop.

She was forced to stop for another couple of interviews. She stayed professional and refused to share anything about the pit stop. Matilde returned to the hospitality and let out a deep sigh; it was the tension she was holding in. She ran both her hands through her hair; this was a disaster. The potential for the Monaco victory had been within reach, and it had slipped away. Matilde knew that as the team principal, she needed to remain composed and focused on the path forward, but in this private moment, she allowed herself to acknowledge the disappointment and frustration she felt.

She grabbed her stuff and joined everyone in the briefing room, waiting for Charles and Carlos. It was silent, an uncomfortable silence. A few minutes later, Carlos and Charles entered the briefing room. If looks could kill... They sat down next to their engineers.

The debrief started.

"Fire away," Matilde opened the debrief. She understood that the disappointment and frustration among the team needed to be addressed openly for progress to be made. People looked at her, not knowing what she meant. "Fire away," she repeated. "If something stays unspoken, it will lead to further issues. Speak, talk, share." She encouraged everyone to speak their minds.

Charles scoffed and looked away. He seemed sceptical and even dismissive of this approach. He questioned her seriousness. "Are you being serious?" He made eye contact and raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

She met his gaze with unwavering determination. "Very much. We can only learn from this." They glanced at each other for some time.

He shook his head and looked away again. "My goodness. I just want to go through the race and go home," he mentioned.

Matilde took a deep breath and looked around the room. "Anyone else?" It stayed quiet. "Fine, let's begin then," she mumbled, knowing this would cause trouble in the near future.

People spoke about the race, and feedback was collected. Tension hung in the room. Everybody said what needed to be said, but not one word more. Matilde looked around, this team was everything but open to each other. She rubbed her face with her hands and looked outside for a brief second; she had to stay professional, but she was close to losing it. Did she fail as team principal or did... She was failing. When she looked back, she noticed Charles looking at her with a 'if looks could kill' and a disappointing look on his face.

They reached the pit stop during their conversation. The words about the pit stop were being rushed. On to the next part of the race.

"May I ask why you called for a pit stop?" Matilde asked Charles. She crossed her arms and leaned back on her chair. No one dared to ask it, so she would do it.

Charles licked his lips and raised his eyebrows.

"I am just trying to understand. Because you didn't show any errors or slow laps. In fact, your lap times were consistent."

"I saw an opportunity for the fastest lap," he casually replied.

"Where?" It was silent. "You didn't have a free pit stop, and Max was gaining time, but not enough to overtake you before the end of the race." Matilde leaned against the table again. "We told you multiple times not to come in. And what did you do? You come in. When I tell you to stay out, you stay out."

"I saw a gap."

"We did not."

"With all due respect, Matilde, I know what I felt in the car. I knew I had an opportunity, and it was taken away."

"I absolutely respect your passion for winning, and I, and if I may speak for the team, want nothing more than to see you win or to see Carlos win. We aim to be the best, be at the top of the podium as many times as possible, and bring a championship home to you both. However, the decision was made regarding this race with the team's best interests in mind. And I rely on your input, but also on everyone else's input within the team," Matilde spoke, hoping Charles would also understand her point of view on this race and the disaster.

"You don't trust me."

Matilde's eyebrows raised, and she looked at him with a confused but hurt face. "You came in seconds after I told everyone to abort the pit stop. You only mentioned you were in the pit lane when you were already in the pit lane. If you still decide to come in, be kind and tell us sooner next time."

"I did tell you!" Charles raised his voice. "Didn't you look at your monitors?"

"When I say to stay out, you stay out, and I trust you to stay out," Matilde mentioned, remaining calm. "What did you expect?" She waited for an answer. "You know why we told you no? Look at the results yourself."

"I saw an opportunity-"

"And we didn't!" She cut him off. "There was no need to stop. We could not afford to take the risk to pit. If there was no risk, you were more than welcome to come in and change your tyres, but there was no margin to do it. We wanted to go for the win, a safe win, to bring home a win," she responded, overruling his statement. "Even with a perfect pit stop, you still would not be able to pass Max. What was your goal in doing this?" 

Next chapter

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc

[italian-lit-tournament]

Italian literature tournament - First round.

Propaganda in support of the authors is accepted, you can write it both in the tag if reblog the poll (explaining maybe that is propaganda and you want to see posted) or in the comments. Every few days it will be recollected and posted here under the cut.

[lottiepumpkinofficial]

31st oct and 1st nov

chap’s 13,14,15,16,17,18

guys i’m so tired right now but let’s go, let’s do this

lilies kinda smell gross honestly, i’ve never liked the scent of them

yes everything is your fault rat twins

“a strange blemish”? nonono the moon is a gorgeous celestial being (just ellie self hatred)

this is one of my favourite chapters

matilde just knowing everything that’s unsaid makes me so happy, obviously she’s not a perfect person and has done not great things and made mistakes but she’s definitely the best person in the royal family, and there’s nothing like a loving mother’s intuition

i love the way connie shows manipulation and abuse through ingrid- the way we know this organisation is wrong and mistreating her, but the way she believes it’s her fault and she needs to be better- and then the utter confusion when someone (jamie) treats her like a human being and suddenly she doesn’t know what to think

i find it so funny that ingrid stays fixated on lottie, instead of moving her sights to ellie- like she’s a girl that does not give up a grudge easily (i think it also goes to show that she’s here to prove her own personal things and not just be a part of the main mission, she has her own stuff going on)

PART TWO BRAVE

it’s nice that they offer her a therapist, but not nice that they dismiss her

god all the parental issues in this series, i think binah must be the only character who doesn’t have any parental issues

okay as much as i love ani and saskia, to invite lottie to paris to speak to the partizan council, knowing it’s her last hope to speak to ellie or the royal family, and knowing nobody will hear her out, just to declare your undying love for each other in front of a Very Heartbroken lottie who literally can’t do anything about it is a very mean thing to do. i know their intention is to get her to open up and let her know it’s okay and all that jazz but fucking hell i would be so upset with them

seriously, was there not any other way to get lottie to admit she’s in love with ellie without really hurting her

that’s a big fucking burden for lottie, she’s already dealing with heartbreak, terrorist threats, losing a job, not knowing what to do with her life and now she’s got to worry about people being in love with her?? that shouldn’t have to be her problem, none of this should have to be her problem

“what are you going to do about it?” idk that’s up to jamie, really, he’s the one with the feelings

this is kinda why i don’t like jaru so much, haru was manipulated into seeing jamie like a god and jamie is not in the right place for any romance

i love the mixed genderings everyone gives ellie

the hope of ellie being herself is so strong and then heartbreaking when it backfires

ouch, the first paragraph of chapter 18 hit me personally

i wanna see raph all ready for story time

okay but how does one claim to be a long lost princess from an abandoned royal line? “hey instagram, just wanted to let you all know i’m actually the great x10 granddaughter of liliana mayfutt and my proof is a tiara 🩷”

idk i feel like emelia is just kinda mean for not giving lottie the plus one- what do you mean you don’t trust lottie? she’s literally spent the past three/four years fighting the same cause as you, getting kidnapped and threatened multiple times and you don’t trust her because she cares about her friends? idk man, that’s weird to me- especially when literally your best friend and all her friends have vouched for her despite not liking her either at the start

don’t get me wrong, emelia is badass and i love her, but what the fuck

[olliesmoreno]

prologue - undercover princess - day 1

- here we go again (my up copy is begging to be euthanised)

- writing style is 💞 when i first read it a lot of the vocabulary flew over my head but every time i reread i grow an appreciation for it

- ellie ur gonna find ur magic place and person. it’s gonna be so exciting. go ellie!

- ‘The Maravish king held his wife's gaze for what felt like the longest few seconds of his life. She had that effect on him.’ this is cute ngl

- the description of the royals and even their mannerisms reflects their characters really well. such as ‘Matilde […] delicately repositioning her cutlery in front of her so that each fork, knife and spoon was perfectly in line.’

- ‘I know you wish you’d had that chance.' alexander lore drop… very curious, bc i don’t remember any other parts of his life

- mentioning jamie makes me mad ngl. remembering how much he was mistreated still genuinely gets me outraged

- i actually wonder what fully persuaded him to send ellie to rosewood. yeah, i don’t remember if this is mentioned. this reread is well over due.

- this chapter is so nostalgic, genuinely. it’s rich with nostalgia!

[labuenosairesfrancaise]

Ortiz Basualdo Anchorena Palace

Hi Guys! I leave this residence here. Could not find the floorplan, so I took some building liberties.

As always, you  will need lots of CC for it to work properly, mostly from Felixandre, TheJim, SYB, Aggresivve Kitty, among others.

Thanks to my patreons for all the support! I really appreciate your participation and gives me a boost of confidence!

Please let me know if you like it :)

Enjoy!

DOWNLOAD: https://www.patreon.com/posts/81865201

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A little bit of context and history:

The disappeared Ortiz Basualdo Anchorena Palace (better known as the Ortiz Basualdo Palace) was a luxurious residence that existed facing the San Martin Plaza in the neighborhood of Retiro, Buenos Aires.

This grand mansion, which occupied half a block bounded by Basavilbaso, Maipú, and Arenales streets, was designed by Belgian architect Jules Dormal at the request of Mrs. Magdalena Dorrego de Ortiz Basualdo (1826-1905) for her eldest daughter, Inés Ortiz Basualdo (1853-1922), widow of Estanislao Peña y Lezica, and her youngest son, Carlos Ortiz Basualdo (1863-1910) married to Matilde de Anchorena Castellanos, all members of important aristocratic families of late 19th century Argentina.

The mansion was completed in 1904, and that year, the Municipality of Buenos Aires awarded it the First Prize for Best Façade in its annual competition. This palace should not be confused with the one built in 1912 for Daniel Ortiz Basualdo (1860-1935), the second son of Mrs. Dorrego de Ortiz Basualdo, married to Mercedes Zapiola, at the corner of Cerrito and Avenida Alvear, now the Embassy of France.

The Ortiz Basualdo Palace, which appeared as a single unit, actually contained two important adjacent but independent residences. One with an entrance at Arenales 733, with a grand porte cochère, was that of Inés Ortiz Basualdo de Peña, who, already a widow, moved into it with her daughter Elisa Peña de Uribelarrea (1878-1943), newly married to Manuel Adrián de Uribelarrea Anchorena, a marriage that had ten children. In 1943, Elisa Peña de Uribelarrea died, already a widow, and the executor of the estate entered into negotiations to sell her part of the palace to the Russian embassy, which finally bought the house of Celedonio Pereda on Rodriguez Peña street.

The other great residence with an entrance at Maipú 1210 was that of Carlos Ortiz Basualdo, married to Matilde de Anchorena Castellanos in 1896. Carlos Ortiz Basualdo died in 1910, after having five children, four boys and one girl. Matilde de Anchorena Castellanos married François Verstraeten Dunois in 1914, with whom she had a son and a daughter. Her son, Francisco Verstraeten de Anchorena, married Raquel Terán Etchecopar in 1942, and her daughter, Elena Verstraeten de Anchorena, married Enrique Ibarguren in 1941. The Verstraeten Anchorena family lived in the palace until their last days. After the death of Doña Matilde de Anchorena Castellanos de Verstraeten in 1969, the remaining part of the palace was auctioned and demolished.

The Ortiz Basualdo Palace was one of the most important examples of the palaces and mansions that emerged in the early 20th century in the neighborhoods of Retiro, Recoleta, and Palermo. These mansions were clustered around the San Martin Plaza, along Avenida Alvear and adjacent streets. Until the crisis of 1930, family successions and the emergence of rationalism in architecture definitively put an end to them, both in aesthetic exhaustion and economic reality.

Credit:

Argentina de Antaño