#the format is strange but I wanted it to literally be what is going on in Lando's head

[charleslelurk]

I would love to read about the Lando monologue fic!

This was a very experimental/abnormal narrative fic I started writing right after Brazil and was planning to finish at the end of the season but haven't ended up picking up again as it now just feels like the time for it... passed. Also, the way Lando was sort of just... okay after losing the WDC ended up so against the thesis I was going for with this fic that I sort of lost steam.

The entirety of what I wrote is below the cut (around 800 words but with how different this is that took time). If you have severe anxiety, I could see this being triggering in some way so read at your own risk. This is also non consecutive, so some of this jumps around in what would have been the full timeline. Enjoy!

He keeps waiting for the season when he grows out of the anxiety, when he can eat ahead of quali and he won't feel faint before getting in the car. When his brain isn't working against him. When he doesn't care to a degree that is almost debilitating. When every chance doesn't feel like his last.

Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold. 

Again. 

He has been doing box breathing since he was fourteen. It's second nature to soothe his nerves after a decade. 

Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold. 

Chest expanding, shoulders lifting. And then letting it all go. 

Engine under his back, rumbling through his spine. The car is purring. 

Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold. 

Turn one. Turn two. The line, the line, the line. A sawtooth edge. Turn three. 

He knows the program. Back to the pits; data, data, data. Another lap. Then another push lap. The anxiety spikes. 

Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold. 

Another push lap. He shaves three tenths. 

"Good lap. Box, box."

He qualifies P7. 

Focus, focus, focus. The press pen is overstimulating, voices and people everywhere. Focus. Wipe his face, rub his eye, adjust his hat. The anxiety is back. 

Big breath. Let it go. 

He's talking too much. Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop. 

The Race. 

He's already sweating by the end of the formation lap. The car settles into the box. 

Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold.

Lights out. 

Foot to the floor. To the outside, avoiding action. 

Turn one. He's holding his breath. 

Miami.

The car is fast. It's never felt like this. Upgrades. Mint.

Can't eat, can't focus. Can't breathe. 

Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold.

...

The safety car comes out. Oh. This is it. This is the moment. His chance, returned after Sochi. 

Here goes nothing. His heart feels like it may burst past his lungs, through his bones, and out the skin of his chest. 

Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold.

The restart. He almost fumbles, feels the moment before the car slips and holds it steady. Max is behind. 

Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold.

It's harder to box breathe in the car, with a balaclava and helmet on, in the Florida humidity. Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold.

The checkered flag, the finish line, the cool down lap he has always yearned for. 

Finally, finally, finally. 

He dedicates it to his sick grandmother. She hasn't seen him race in person in two years. 

Then, parc ferme. The team. His family. They lift him in the air. He sheds a tear. He's never felt like this, never been on this kind of high. 

Hands on his back, on his helmet, then in his hair, around his shoulders. Congrats, congrats. It's what he's always wanted, what he's always needed, like a deep ache in his bones. 

But it's not everything. 

He wants more. He's hungry, more than ever before. 

After Canada, they start calling it a title fight. 

Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold.

It's just… as much as he wants it, is hungry for it… how is he supposed to beat the greatest driver of their generation. His car could be minutes faster in straight line speed and Max would somehow drag his car to catch the McLaren. 

How is he supposed to close one of the largest point deficits in history to take the title. 

Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold.

...

Silverstone. Home. 

He can barely eat dinner on Friday night, let alone anything but water on Saturday morning. 

Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold.

As good as winning looks on Lewis after two years, his insides feel like they are liquifying. The disappointment is acrid on his tongue, burning through his palette until all he can taste is his self loathing. 

Head bowed, knuckles white. Fuck. 

Breath, breath, breath, breathbreathbreathbreathbreathbreath–

Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold.

The champagne flies on the podium and he doesn’t want to taste it. McLaren tries to celebrate, but he just wants to go home. 

Max, his Max, Fewtrell, is there after. He hands Lando a container from catering, can tell Lando is feeling faint. He has good friends. Great friends. He doesn't deserve to be treated soft, like this. He deserves–

Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold.

He fucks off for the entire summer break. Does fuck all while McLaren posts a video of him with shelter puppies. 

They were really fucking cute though. Lando thinks a dog could fix him. 

Zandvoort… Zandvoort feels good in ways Miami didn’t. It feels like a reckoning. 

Zandvoort feels bad in ways that Miami didn’t. It feels like he’s still climbing the mountain. 

Breathe. Hold. Breathe. Hold. 

Simply lovely. He’s not sure why he said it. Max will laugh. Right? They’re still friends. Right? 

He calls Max, like after Austria. It rings and rings. Later, he will see that Max is too busy flying in a helicopter with Daniel. 

[honeyvenommusic]

.

[angelesca]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐱𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐡𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐮𝐨𝐟𝐮’𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 - 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐬! ʕ •̀ ω •́ ʔ

w.c. total: 6500+ (whew)

this was overdue oops... like who wants to read a halloween post in december?? ┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴ but! im happy to finally get this out of the basement!!! YAY everyone is silly n' goofy ofc, reader is gender neutral

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feixiao gang goes ghost hunting! w.c. ~1330

content: jiaoqiu is the designated scaredy cat(sorry jiaoqiu it had to be someone), feixiao being awesome as always, moze wants to go home, they are breaking into your house

“o’ wondrous general, you must lead the way and charge first!”

“hey! don’t push me!”

“c’mon, just go in already…”

“moze, heeeeeeelp meeee–aaAaaAaah!”

“...”

the dead of night stirs awake, no thanks to a lively bunch of bright-eyed no-namers, hoping to eternalise themselves in the tabloids (moze does not wish to be associated, he is just tagging along).

despite their spiritual powers, business for this ghost-hunting squad has been dreadful. ever since the formation of the ghostbusters hunters, they have accumulated a whopping number of one hungry dog, one angry landlord, and one confused grandma on their doorstep. that is to say, they have had no customers at all.

if they don’t hit the jackpot tonight, they will, as feixiao exaggeratedly puts it, die.

“okay!” feixiao huffs, keeping jiaoqiu at arm’s distance. jiaoqiu lifts an irritated eyebrow, dismissing the hand that feixiao shoved in his face. “first, we must equip some weapons.” with a click of her fingers, moze begrudgingly reveals himself from the shadows.

a strange bag announces itself with a loud thump when moze throws it down. jiaoqiu holds his head with his hands, mouth gaping open, “hey, be careful!” he rushes down to his knees and cradles the device like a newborn. “this is my portable hotpot cooker!”

feixiao waves her hand. “why do we need that to hunt ghosts? are you gonna eat them?”

jiaoqiu grins.

“feixiao, you are literally holding a gun in your hand.” moze grunts, picking up the only sensible item: a flashlight imbued with a light that reveals all. 

they were certainly prepared to tackle the dangers of their first ever ghost-hunting mission.

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

feixiao punches a window with devastating force, shattering glass as easily as her swatting a bug. moze tips his hood down in shame as he watches the two foxians struggle inside the makeshift entrance.

they successfully infiltrate enemy territory. gulping, feixiao instructs, “moze. flashlight.”

plumes of darkness which obscured, dissipates its shadowy tendrils, tucking into even darker corners. the flashlight illuminates a safe beacon within the room, washing relief into jiaoqiu. “that’s more like it– um, what is that?”

“what is... ” —feixiao turns towards jiaoqiu’s direction. the two are frozen solid— “what… ”

in a corner, the contour of a steep shadow. it squeaks like a frightened mouse, belying its daunting aura. it flees out the door.

“the mission is already starting, huh?” feixiao cocks her gun ready, bloodthirsty. “let’s go, ghost hunters.”

the three nod in unison, finally agreeing for once. they follow the trail, quick on their feet to catch the prize. jiaoqiu points towards a slamming door. “there!” 

the gang rushes towards it with jiaoqiu taking the lead. with haste, he aggressively rips the door open.

an elephant sits on the toilet, shaking. jiaoqiu slowly closes the door. "i am so sorry."

“behind us,” moze indicates, pointing behind them. in the kitchen, a fridge light gleams white, confessing to a tall silhouette which stood hunched before it. 

the three tiptoes closer. the silhouette stops, ears perking. in their hands, a pile of… indistinguishable meat…

“z-zzz-z-zom-m-b-bie…!” jiaoqiu trembles. he steps back, but is unfortunately interrupted as his back collides with a soft obstacle. he turns around– “llll-ll-lion??!”

laying on the floor, a talking lion (impressive) scratches its nose with its paw, yawning. “if you guys are gonna break in, at least do a decent job of it.”

“what’s all this noise?” the intrusive voice, disguised innocently, reeks of a disturbing intention to kill—according to jiaoqiu’s narration. thunderous stomps strike upon the floorboards. there is no mistaking the behemoth in front of them: a mythical dragon towers over them. “who are you?” 

jiaoqiu yelps as if pricked by a million needles. he latches onto moze’s back. “we’re dead!”

…yet, when perilous flames of ye all-mighty scorch the weak of their will, a hero arises from the ashes to reignite a hearth that once blazed a hope so lustrous. 

she, who braves the inferno, shall relinquish herself as a mere plaything of fate to save her people.

and sever her humanity she shall; render her bones brittle if thou must. forswear the tangible vessel that shackles thy to a fragile mortality, to ascend as the hideous terror of gods.

“finally, a real challenge.” the hero forgoes her firearm, cracking her knuckles. she wields her bare fists in front of the apathetic dragon, a worthy challenger. an assertive grin spans her face. “an opponent strong enough to evaluate the effectiveness of my training!”

the hero is none other than feixiao, the esteemed leader of the ghost hunters!

“seriously?! you muscle-headed freak!! moze, capture her!”

with jiaoqiu riding moze’s back, and a deflated feixiao under his arm, the ghost hunter squad dashes off, abandoning their pride at the door.

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

“crap.” you stare wide-eyed at the broken window. never in a million years did you think someone would have balls heavy enough to venture into xianzhou’s infamous haunted house. 

about to enter inside, the door bursts open before you could touch the handle. you jump out of the way of the intruders, who were two foxians now laying on the ground. following closely, a third man walks out the door, surprised to meet your eyes. “oh, are you the owner…?”

“yes…” you stare back, baffled. “did you guys break my window?”

he glances at the foxian pair and embarrassment flushes his cheeks. the purple man groans, rubbing his neck. “i deeply apologise,” he bows his head. “let me know how much you need for compensation(please don’t take us to court) and i'll pass it onto those two-”

“hey!” the pink foxian shoves himself into the conversation, wrapping an arm around the purple man’s shoulder. “we’re a three, right? us three will pay for it!” he wriggles his eyebrows.

“ah, reinforcements have arrived.” the white-haired foxian marches towards you, patting your shoulder. you raise a confused eyebrow. “be careful, this mission is seriously sss-grade difficulty.”

you watch the sweat pour down feixiao’s forehead. her legs wobble dramatically, as if the tremors of an earthquake have struck her. “are your knees okay?” you ask.

“don’t worry, these are the results of my workout.”

jiaoqiu sarcastically interjects, “is pissing your pants a workout now?”

the white-haired foxian clears her throat, ignoring the other. “let me introduce you to the gang: i’m feixiao, this is jiaoqiu, and moze. nice to meet you, fellow hunter.”

“they’re not a ghostbust– i mean, hunter; they’re the owner of this property,” moze explains, pointing a thumb at you.

you nod, arms crossed. “anyways, i kinda need you guys to pay for my window. it’s a lot of money, y’know.”

feixiao gauges you. eyebrows creasing, teal eyes piercing. she hopes that her intimidation will knock a few zeroes off the price. “how much?” 

“let’s see… not only a broken window, but trespassing is a crime too.” you tap your chin. “how 'bout a million?” unfortunately, her tactic is ineffective.

feixiao’s eyes pop open, her soul almost skipping to the afterlife. “one million?!” your attack deals a devastating blow; truly, this mission is of sss-grade difficulty. despite her strength, money is the one weakness that hero feixiao cannot defeat. her eyes frantically shake, shoving a disorganised jiaoqiu in front of her. “i’ll sell him off, he’s very useful! good at cooking!”

jiaoqiu’s eyes brighten at the mention of cooking. “hmm… i propose hotpot, a most nutritious and filling meal. i can boil some homemade broth, perhaps a mala and tomato base, and cook some mild, oily dishes to accompany the spiciness—no coriander. by the way, i’m not a chef or anything i swear i’m a healer.”

although they literally broke into your house, they seem to be an honest-to-good bunch. if anything, you are impressed they haven’t passed away from shock, considering the eerie residents that nest in your home.  besides, hotpot sounds pretty good. “okay, but you guys are paying for all the food! plus my window, of course.”

moze smiles at you. “thank you"

you smile back. a hotpot party, huh? hopefully, they don’t mind the extra spooky guests…

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

2. dragon's tail w.c. ~920

content: dh's tail being sensitive bc it's that time of the year

it must’ve been the 1987469th time you’ve knocked on dan heng’s door.

whatever possessed you to believe this time around would be different, is met with disappointing results as usual.

it is time to adopt another strategy.

you knock again. “dan heng?”

nothing.

“high elder mk2000?”

nothing.

“cold dragon you— woah!” something heavy cuffs onto your wrist through the slight gap of the door, pulling you into shadows.

dan heng’s room is unusually dim. in the dark space, the light of a lamp is the only comfortable shelter your eyes could return to. with its help, you find a faint silhouette on the bed—a tall lump under a blanket. that is when you notice it was dan heng’s tail that dragged you in.

you plop onto the bed. from under the blanket, dan heng peeks at you. “...! how did you get in?”

you hold up your wrist, revealing the culprit. his tail uncurls and tickles your nose.

“it has become restless these days. don’t worry, you can leave me alone for some time.”

“but your tail is all over me-mmphfff!” the end of dan heng’s tail brushes over your mouth, cutting your words short.

his tail flops around like a fish in your lap. “ignore it,” he says, as if it's the easiest thing in the world.

“i just got here though...” feeling mischievous, you poke his tail and it twitches. you are rattled by how sensitive it is.

dan heng scoots over, shuffling away timidly. you observe how he keeps pulling on the legs of his trousers.

shuffle shuffle.

... sliiiiiide.

when he turns his head to look at you, you manage to be even closer than before. a complete opposite of his intentions. "?!"

“it wasn’t me.” you gesture at his tail which is wrapped around your shoulder, like an old friend.

dan heng sighs. “i apologise. i do not mean to avoid you.”

“it’s fine,” you reassure, sitting criss-crossed on his bed. “take your time.”

your words manage to wring a smile out of dan heng’s blank face. he clears his throat. “however, do you really have to keep doing that?”

“doing what?”

he indicates towards your hand which is furiously stroking the soft underside of his tail. you are moments away from collapsing into it and plunging into a sweet dream. his tail seems to like it too, swaying side-to-side.

nevertheless, you stop. “sorry. it’s a force of habit.” 

yet, his tail directs your hand back, requesting that you continue. you look at dan heng who rubs his forehead. they say that a dragon’s tail also represents it’s heart...

you clasp your hands together. “if you don’t like it, i won’t do anything.” 

like a spoiled kid, the tail thrashes up and down. dan heng’s eyes shoot open, as startled as you are. oh boy.

the powerful appendage swirls forceful winds, conjuring a storm in a frenzied rage, a volatile disaster. you have to duck your head to avoid a deadly swing, and swat away a vigorous jab coming for your stomach. "ack!"

dan heng attempts to curb his wild tail, securing it with his hands. "down!"

that one word traps the tail under a spell. with its freedom torn, the end of the tail slithers back and forth, as if dejected.

“... can i still pet it?”

“no,” dan heng promptly shuts you down. your head lowers in disappointment. “don’t spoil it.”

“but it's turning red. should it be doing that?”

dan heng shoos you. “just leave for a bit. it will calm down eventually.”

“you’re sure?”

dan heng nods.

“i was talking to your tail.”

dan heng sighs. “please. just for a few minutes.”

you shrug your shoulders, getting off his bed. “if you say so—uh?”

you swear you were standing up a few seconds ago. how did the door turn into the ceiling?

you get up again, and it’s like deja vu when you blink. nice to meet you again, ceiling. how have you been since the last few seconds that passed? you have a clue on who the criminal is. 

“about me leaving,” you tug at the tail manacled around your waist. with how strong the grip is, you might be chained to dan heng's room for eternity. “you’re really sure?”

no response. dan heng’s back faces you, a wall that separates. despite being in the same space, he seems to exist in another plane.

you sit up. “dan heng?” 

another stifling silence passes. it is unnaturally uncomfortable, like shuffling into a recluse corner in an empty room. and when there’s nothing for your ears to hone in on, you can only examine with your eyes for hints. he’s tugging at his trousers again.

moving closer to inspect, hesitant, you brush his hair behind his ear. they are burning bright red. skin searing hot. “you’re burning up?”

dan heng rubs his arm. “it’s…” he starts, “could you stay for a bit longer?" 

in the months that you have gotten to know dan heng, this is a rare moment that shines golden. “you’re sure?”

“i’m sure this time.”

although he prefers to keep to himself, you appreciate when he does decide to rely on you. you quickly clamp your mouth shut to stop a smile from spreading.

his tail shudders, excited. gradually, it glides across your leg, searching, as if hunting for treasure. 

“... do you need help?” you tease.

“what?”

you point at dan heng’s tail. “i think it’s trying to get in my pants.”

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

3. taste of flesh w.c. ~750

content: blade is jus a zombie cat who doesn't wanna hurt you, also why is this kinda angsty

what’s with the ominous cardboard box in your house?

approaching it, you find a sleepy blade hiding in the isolated space, much too tiny for his size. he gazes up at you, reminding you more of a cat rather than a zombie. “...?”

“what are you doing here?” you ruffle his hair, petting him and scratching his chin. he leans into your touch, eyes shut, almost dozing off again in your hand. “let’s wake up now, hm?”

when your warm fingers leave him, the cold air that manifests reminds him of what he was trying to avoid. to your disappointment, blade hunches over again, burying himself into the box. whatever is concerning him must be pretty significant.

“what’s up?” you crouch down, frowning. “aren’t you hungry?”

“... no,” blade replies, his voice muffled. 

a stomach suddenly growls. 

as demonstrated, zombies aren't good liars, especially when it concerns their hunger. blade follows true to this formula. he loves meat, though you worry about the blood pouring from the almost-rawness he indulges in.

you piece the puzzle together. meat. blade loves meat… blade. blade is a zombie… zombie? zombies eat…

“do i need to kill someon–”

“no,” blade catches on. “it’s nothing…” he seems to be gnawing at something.

“nonsense,” you reject his disregard for himself, scowling. you pull at his wrist but immediately stop at the sight of indents on his arm. bite marks. “blade... don’t hurt yourself. if you need something, please tell me.”

blade wouldn’t say it, but you had a feeling. 

you bet your unwavering trust in him. “do you want to try mine? not sure if i’m tasty, but it’s something.” slowly, you trace along your neck, insisting.

blade shivers, starved eyes lingering. the manifestation of his hunger falters from your face to the slope of your neck. “no…” 

blade clenches his eyes shut.

it’s all wrong.

fragments of memories flicker.

the pedalling of an ouroboros machinates his body. the threads of life weave his limbs back together, strung his muscles fiber by fiber, and pale, rotted fabric for skin stitched like patchwork. sewed together to amass a destructive creation. poured the cursed golden liquor—the mara—and it branched like neurons into his departed body. 

the air freezes. a hollow shadow watches you. it is hard to read his eyes. you cannot trace it and it unnerves you. it’s as if you are meeting him for the first time again. 

from the grave he rose. an insatiable hunger in his blackened guts. a hoarse throat that itched. naive prey wandered over to him. then, their body fell. 

his hand crawls onto your back, digging his fingers. he leans his weight onto you and your bodies fall, tumbling to the floor.

the moon who awoke when the sun slept; the sea who yearned to walk the earth—he was unnatural. those hideous impulses he submerged deep within his depths, locked away in his body like a tomb. confined it with pure restraint, dashed the key away to seal his horrors. 

a thumb feathers over the pulse in your neck. 

but in this moment, the forbidden unlocks. 

hot breaths sterilise your skin. you shut your eyes.

… nothing comes.

blade’s lips are parted but his teeth do not move. you feel a light suction on your neck, an amateur's kiss, then, the light pelting of his wet tongue over the tender patch of skin. just like a cat. his hand rubs circles on your back. “...sorry.” 

“...sorry.” 

“sorry.”

“sorry.”

blade mumbles a million more apologies, each one wrapped and tied together with a peck, tending to an imaginary wound. 

“i’m fine,” you console, “see?” you hold your hands up, urging him to take a proper look at you.

he moves his head, scrutinising you. and blade wouldn’t say it, but his eyes tell it all. there’s an aching in your heart.

you look at the ceiling, glueing and crafting your phrases. you take a deep breath. “... nothing's wrong with you.”

you give a small smile. you have no idea if these are the words he wants to hear—you can't read minds. but it is enough for you if the words can reignite a flame.

the construction of your words were planned for, but it spills out anyways, loose and natural. “go chase the winds, perhaps eat another bowl of rice, or being proud about getting out of bed. you deserve to exist as you are, however you want to, so go do whatever your heart pleases.”

blade doesn’t respond; the silence is what his heart desires. so you let him rest his anxiousness to the soothing lullaby of your pulse, reassuring him that you are alive. 

with your encouragement, he becomes the moon and sea, as well as the sun and earth; blade exists. as natural as can be. 

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

4. triple threat w.c. 853

content: *taps mic* triple jing yuan *cheering*

“drat, i forgot to buy toilet paper for luocha.” you close the cabinet, sighing. 

“i know just the solution,” jing yuan’s voice chirps to answer your worries. he sits by the window, chin resting on his hand. his smile perks up, eyes melting from his lifted cheeks, when your eyebrows elevate to declare your interest. “i do this all the time.”

“what do you mean?”

he clicks his fingers, and you’ve seen this before. in an instant, another jing yuan spawns, clipping through your floor like a video game. 

you frown. that seems painful. “is he okay?” you walk over to recently birthed jing yuan who wears an irritated expression, a stark contrast to original jing yuan. the hand you offer to him is taken up and you root jing yuan no.2 out of the floor.

however, the hand you offer is swatted away just as quickly. you raise an eyebrow at jing yuan no.2 who rolls his eyes. 

your eye twitches. “why is he so mean?” the difference between them is like day and night.

“careful, dear,” original jing yuan wraps his arm around your shoulder. “hmm, i’m not as well rested as i thought. my energy must be low.”

“meaning?”

“to preserve my energy, every new clone seems to inhabit less of my power and is further from the original me. although, their thoughts and memories should remain intact.”

“oh.” you hum, eyeing the other jing yuan. “well. welcome to my haunted house, evil jing yuan.”

evil jing yuan crosses his arms, glaring at you. “what an insulting entrance, to be assisted by…” he looks you up and down. “a human,” he sneers.

“hey, what’s your problem?” you retort.

before you could shed any blood, jing yuan steps in. “there is no need to direct your anger at anyone else but me,” jing yuan replies to his evil counterpart, “i apologise for my mishandling.”

evil jing yuan spits out the foul taste in his mouth, “reducing the aura of my sheer power by delegating me to redundant errands. you are foolish, jing yuan.” 

“but aren’t you also jing yuan?” you point out.

he rolls his eyes. “ugh.” 

you shrug your shoulders, sighing. “what now?”

jing yuan rubs his chin. “what if i did this?” he clicks his fingers.

you are unimpressed when one more jing yuan climbs through your window–why is everyone attracted to your window these days? the newest jing yuan wears an overenthusiastic smile. 

“didn’t you say you have to conserve your energy?” you side-eye jing yuan. 

jing yuan whistles innocently. he really would do anything to avoid being productive. within the time this all happened, you are sure someone could’ve dropped into the shop down the street and got some toilet paper.

“yikes,” evil jing yuan’s lips pucker, tasting the sourness of the newbie’s presence. 

the happy jing yuan beams, jogging over, “evil jing yuan!(that’s just his name now, you realise) how i’ve missed yooouuu- a-aah!” evil jing yuan pinches happy jing yuan’s cheek.

“do not touch me, vermin.” evil jing yuan spews caustic acid.

“boo, no fun.”

although happy jing yuan adopted jing yuan’s friendliness, you immediately notice the wide discrepancy. 

“you’re really energetic.” you identify the exaggerated flaw—it’s like playing spot the difference. this jing yuan had enough vigor to last a whole day, when original jing yuan would be sleeping through 60% of it. 

happy jing yuan eyebrow perks at your voice. a glint of recognition shines in his eyes. “oh? wait, i know you.”

“you do?”

“of course! you're jing yuan's favouri–yeowch!” evil jing yuan stomps on happy jing yuan’s foot.

“huh?” you turn to jing yuan, searching for answers. he turns his head to the side, hand covering his mouth. his ears are flushing red. it is a rare sight to see such innocence undermine the confident lion. you can’t help but feel flustered as well.

“ugh, embarrassing.” evil jing yuan’s face contorts, nauseated. “why would you reveal that?” he rolls his eyes again. he must be well-acquainted with the back of his head from how often he rolls those eyes.

happy jing yuan only laughs, scratching his head. “haha. i forgot we are all the same person, haha. sorry, my fellow jing yuans.”

that confession basically spoke for three jing yuans. this information, you didn’t know what to do with it other than wanting to shrivel as you feel their gazes suddenly burn holes into you.

happy jing yuan winks at you, taking your hand in his. “but i'm your favourite, right~?”

“wha-?”

evil jing yuan clears his throat. “as if. clearly, i outshine everyone—even an eyeless shrimp knows that.” he smirks, linking your other arm with his. “come, we shall rule the universe together! hahaha!”

jing yuan hugs you from behind, partaking in the senseless tug of war. “you said one was enough last time,” his voice blew in your ear, “you’re being greedy.”

“please guys, one at a time,” you joke, “i’m literally sandwiched here.” you might have to wrestle your way out.

with no toilet paper, luocha sat in the bathroom for a long time.

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

5. the office w.c. ~1168

READ MEEE!!! GUYS there's a part (you will DEFINITELY know which) that is stripped from one of my old wattpad stories, no editing just pure cringe written from ages ago. i died re-reading it and it will kill you too but the idea was funny

“hey, hey,” qingque playfully pokes your arm, rousing you from the clutches of sleep. “wake up, sleepyhead.”

you catch your head before it slips off. “say what now?”

countless feet shuffle in the office, stomping an ominous anthem—a thing of nightmares. your spine shoots up immediately, positioning you in a battle-ready stance prepped for war. fixing your uniform, your armour shines radiantly as you equip your weapon of choice in your hand: a forged doctor’s note in case you are accused of slacking off.

“everyone, i have news,” fu xuan, your supervisor, the master diviner of xianzhou’s divination commission–a very short person–announces, “starting today, a new matrix manager will join us. please offer him your warmest welcomes.”

you rub your disbelieving eyes, wondering if you were still dreaming. “wait a minute.” 

the new manager corrects his slanting head.

you inhale a sharp breath. “i forgot to lock the door.” 

“hm?” qingque taps on her phone, eyes glued to a game of celestial jade.

“if master fu xuan asks for my whereabouts, tell her i’m in the toilet!”

“where are you–”

the gears in your legs propel you forward, fueled by your adrenaline. slamming the head office door open, you meet the familiar sight, playing pretend in formal divination attire with a silver pair of thin-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose. most prominently, his hair is jet-black instead of golden. overall, a 10/10 disguise. his hands comb through papers with the mastery as he remains deaf to your outburst.

“luocha?”

the flipping of pages responds to you. 

you march forward, rasping your knuckles on the desk. knock, knock.

this earns you a stinging glare. “i do not appreciate you making a scene.” luocha(?) finally acknowledges your existence. “you should be at your desk working.”

you place your hands on your hips. “and you, should be at home.”

his eyes wander over to the door, waiting. when nothing more happens, he beckons you with a finger, signalling you to close the distance.

you lift an eyebrow. you tread over, standing in front of him. “here?”

that is when you notice that it wasn't numbers and charts he was reading. in his hands were endless pages upon pages of… pictures of his coffin? that probably explains why the photocopier in the office broke this morning. 

luocha grips his heart. “i have infiltrated the enemy’s base today to reclaim what was rightfully mine. oh, how the days were peaceful until tragedy struck.”

“what did you do this time…” you sigh. “are you saying that the divination commission, for whatever reason, has your coffin?”

luocha nods.

you scratch your cheek. the only fear you have is fu xuan snagging you in her talons if she catches you, but you can’t leave luocha alone lest you want to testify to a rampaging elephant. moreover, you were always curious about what lies in the coffin. corpses? treasure? an earphone you lost years ago?  maybe this will serve as a good opportunity to finally ask. you come to a decision. “i’ll help. but you’ll go straight home after this.”

“okay!” luocha smiles enthusiastically. you almost fall over from how quick he pulls your hand.

after the agreement, you find yourselves wandering a corridor in search of luocha’s beloved coffin. surprisingly, it didn’t take much time before you both located the "x" on the map. almost like you were mere pawns roaming a chessboard according to a calculated plan. that begs the question: who is the mastermind stringing you along?

entering an empty meeting room, a coffin stands at attention, a lone soldier in the battlefield of fallen papers, pens as spears, and a whiteboard which has endured countless cleavings of ink on its body. 

you pat the coffin. “that was easier than i thought.”

“indeed.” luocha grazes his finger along the intricate carvings.

out of the blue, you hear familiar footsteps. your body grows stiff. “someone’s outside…!”

“here.” he shoves you into the coffin and follows suit, secluding you in his arms. you gasp when his leg nudges in between your thighs.

the tiny space doesn’t allow you much freedom apart from staring at luocha’s face and being acutely aware of everything that was happening downstairs. you try not to think about it. try not to think at all.

unbeknownst to you, luocha monitors your everything: how you cast hesitant glances, mumbling hot breath that kisses his cheek. while you are trying to distract yourself, he is entirely focused.

luocha breaks the silence. “... it’s hot in here.” 

“???”

the unknown figure is approaching. your heart is playing to the beat of each sinister step.

“shhh, quiet,” luocha says something reasonable this time.

you hold your breath. the rough grumblings of a voice vibrate through the coffin and you can recognise that voice in your sleep. “not here.” fu xuan is hunting for your blood, claws sharp. 

her heels turn and click when she is left unsatisfied. the coast is clear and the tension you held in alleviates. you glance at luocha, expecting him to be equally embarrassed. 

but you are met with a knowing smirk. something about this feels suspiciously like a book trope.

you clear your throat. “we’re safe now.”

luocha nods. opening the coffin, you both try to untangle your intertwined limbs.

“could you move your right leg?” you ask.

“i’m trying.”

“okay, i’ll just hold onto your arm for a bit…”

“that’s my arse.”

“oops, sorry—!”

you trip on something but luocha safely catches your arm in the nick of time. looking down, you realise that there are a bunch of books spilled on the floor. 

you look at luocha who gives a hesitant smile.

in the monotonous pile of words and pages, one clearly stood out. one that you swore to oblivion. you feel your soul claw its way out of the suffocating entrapment of your body, your mouth hung open, not the forbidden collection…

‘secret affairs in the office: uh oh, i’m in love with my boss!’

… shit. 

no wonder this situation felt familiar. 

——

“Shhh, quiet.”

… I shouldn’t be doing this with my boss.

We're so close that I think we exchange breaths with each other, tangled in this small space of ours. I cringe as he leans into my ear, his black hair falling. “It’s hot in here,” he breathes. The hairs on my neck stand erect. 

I face my fears when I glare back at him. He'll be exploring every nook and cranny of my body with the way he stares back, hungrily, on the prowl for my bare skin. His rough hands tug at my shirt.

I smirk. “What are you waiting for then? Undress me.”

——

you wish you didn’t remember that.

“did you like it? i heard the office trope is very popular with humans.”

you lightly thwack luocha’s head with the book, cheeks hot. “what on earth were you thinking?”

“oh, we haven’t done the next part—”

“we are not doing that!” you quickly shut him down. “we’re going home!” and you’ll make sure to burn every single book.

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

6. what if w.c. 320

after another day of work, you could not wait to get home soon. you open the door. entering. turning on the lights. 

flick.

sighing, you throw your bag off your shoulders, stretching your arms. you want to catch up on sleep, but the stress of tomorrow’s agenda ravages your mind. you hum as you think of what to do next, filling the bars of silence with your melody. dinner, probably. 

you head into the kitchen and open the fridge. songlotus cake, puffergoat milk, berrypheasant skewers... why is there so much rice? it's like someone is telling you to eat another bowl or two.

let’s try reading a book. grabbing a cushion and a random book off the shelf, you sit by the coffee table on the floor. you flick through the contents: dragons, zombies, lions, changelings. these old tales, how boring. does anyone actually believe in these superstitions? you yawn. 

when you lean back, you accidentally press on the tv remote. the screen is brought to life. "oh..." you turn it off. after all, no one is watching tv. glancing at the clock, you realise it’s already close to bedtime. you should run a bath and get ready to sleep.

making your way over, you almost trip over something. huh? yet, there's nothing on the floor. you shrug your shoulders. you head to your bedroom to find your change of clothes. however, the task is difficult when your room is a complete mess. where did you put your pajamas again? 

as if on command, in the corner of your eye, a drawer slide opens. “...what?”

walking over, you find your pajamas in the drawer. you scan the corners of your room.

... it must be the wind. what else could it... be?

after your bath, you lay on your bed, comfortably settled. you stare at the ceiling, slowly counting the seconds until your eyes close.

the house is quiet as usual. peaceful. 

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

7. hotpot party! w.c. ~1165

“hot!” you fan the congee in your mouth, eyes tearing. dan heng sighs, handing you a napkin. “hot... hotpot… hotpot…?” slowly, the burning congee helps you recover an important memory: “it’s hotpot night!”

“hotpot?” jing yuan turns away from the tv.

“...hot…pot…” blade wakes up.

“h-o-t-p-o-t.” luocha robotically dances.

the bell rings, and you are relieved that it wasn’t the smashing of a window when you greet the ghost-hunters. 

“hey!” feixiao gleams, flashing a smile. in her hands are bags of ingredients, you assume, noticing the spring onions sticking out. “we’re here for hotpot!”

“i’ll just borrow your kitchen to heat it up,” jiaoqiu quips. 

moze nods at you as you let them enter. but you are too late to warn them when you hear the unison of feixiao and jiaoqiu’s screaming, “g-g-ggg-gg-ggghosts!!!”

“hey, that's rude,” jing yuan says, “after you trespassed into our house too.”

“wait… general?” feixiao points at jing yuan. “weren't you one of the arbiter generals? you’re real? you’re like, one of my biggest idols!”

“uuuhhhh…nooo…” jing yuan averts his eyes, hiding behind luocha. “quick luocha, do something.”

luocha stops chewing on the hair of an agitated blade, concentrating. channelling the strength of his spiritual ancestors to reach new levels of enlightenment, he poofs into a chair (why). blade reaches for his sword.

dan heng weaves through the chaos, finding you at the front door. he leans against the wall, arms crossed. “you didn’t invite more people than this, did you? it’s already so noisy.”

“uuuhhhh... nooo…” you guiltily look away from his interrogating eyes which accuse you. just then, the bell rings again and you open it excitedly. “huohuo! you made it!”

“it’s good to see you again.” huohuo smiles, eyes softening from the rise of her cheeks. by her side are qingque and…

“master fu xuan?!” your heart soars to your throat, astonished by the great, but still short, presence of the master diviner.

“ahaha, sorry,” qingque rubs the back of her head. “the master diviner insisted on coming to check that i wasn’t slacking off.”

fu xuan nods. “qingque said you are hosting a productive meeting on how to strategize for the chartings of ship routes via the jade abacus, and its convergence into predicting future prospects. i have high expectations for your discussions.”

you and qingque stare at each other.

“hmph, what a waste of time,” tail grunts. “mingling with a bunch of peasants, i should get paid for gracing you all with my presence.”

“good to see you too, tail,” you reply. the group head inside.

"hey, hey?!!" you hear more of jiaoqiu’s shouting, "the house will burn down!"

“that’s actually a ghost this time,” jing yuan notes.

suddenly, a wave of heat blasts everyone. “the term ghost," tail roars with the rage of a thousand suns, "cannot be compared to the heliobus race!” 

thunder strikes. you gasp. 

jing yuan walks to the door, eager. “that must be my friend.” the door opens but no one is there. he gestures towards something in the sky, behind the house. you walk outside, dan heng following shortly. 

it is lightning(-wielding thunder-clapping spirit-squashing) lord. they wave at you, magnificent and bright. 

“how will lightning lord eat hotpot with us?” dan heng inquires, genuinely confused. 

jing yuan waves his hand, dismissing dan heng’s worries. “it’s fine. they're just here for vibes.”

when did old jing yuan learn slang? “oh, okay. if they don’t mind.” you wave with two arms at the giant. 

out of the blue, a cold breath trickles down your neck. “hello…”

you are startled, realising someone blue was behind you all this time. her sluggish, bent posture and slow manner of speaking—it reminds you of someone.

“uurk… who invited grandma over??” jing yuan slips behind you.

behind the lethargic “grandma”, another blue person pops out. “good evening, general. and friends.” he greets politely.

you wave your hand. “oh, another friend of jing yuan?”

jing yuan frowns. “how do you not know who he is? he’s our kid.”

“what do you mean ‘our kid’...” you glare at jing yuan, lifting an eyebrow. recounting the numerous stories, you close your eyes in contemplation. “if i remember correctly, you must be yanqing?”

the kid nods, confirming. “thanks for inviting us over.”

you attend to the other blue person. “and this is…”

“jingliu… you made it…” blade is at the front door. he trudges over, wiping the sleep away from his eyes. “why don’t you…come in…”

“thank you… i… love hotpot…” her head bobbles, trailing inside. “thank you… thanks… thank…” 

yanqing assists jingliu. “let’s get you inside, grandma.”

you ask, “was that your zombie friend, blade?”

“yes… cool friend…” blade glares at jing yuan. 

“what? she tried to kill me once!” jing yuan exclaims.

another roaring claps in the distance. it captures your attention.

what in tarnation… 

“my people!” luocha dashes out the door, waving all too happily at the concerning amount of elephants rushing your way, about to bulldoze your house down. where are the elephants even coming from in xianzhou luofu??

you shake luocha’s shoulders as he chants ‘elephants, elephants, elephants!’. “why did you summon a stampede of elephants?! can they even eat hotpot??” 

“haha, no idea,” luocha scratches his neck. blade flicks him on the head. luocha dramatically doubles over, holding a hand out at the elephants and under his silent command, they immediately halt. “they’re well-behaved, they mean no harm.”

“uh, i guess this is okay.” you wave at the elephants, their trunks waving back. “how about you dan heng, did you invite anyone over?”

dan heng observes the sky, silent for a moment. 

you notice his melancholic expression as he points towards a bright streak slicing across the night like a shooting star “they’re busy travelling the universe.” he smiles. “so they can’t make it today.”

“oh?” these must be the dreams he spoke of. so it was real after all. you wave at the sky, hoping that his friends receive your greeting. “another time, then. we’ll have so many hotpots nights from now on, they are sure to come over for at least one of them.”

his eyes glimmer, the end of his tail wagging.

feixiao calls from inside the house, “hotpot is ready!” 

“that’s our cue,” you declare, herding a dragon, zombie, lion, and a changeling all back inside. of course, it is met with difficulty as they try not to tear at each other for bumping shoulders, or when jing yuan craftily pinches some butts and blade pulls out a rifle(thanks for the gift feixiao). 

before you join the festivities, you notice a crystal flake falling on your sleeve. frosty winds bite at your body, and you witness how your breath fumes into clouds. looking up at the darkening sky, you admire the white confetti announcing winter’s entrance. 

then, you study the scene in your haunted house. it’s hell, and it’s chaotic as usual. you laugh. and like magic, you are warm again. 

you close the door. 

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

some art i scribbled ٩(･ิᴗ･ิ๑)۶

what i imagined for office luocha ( ･ิ ͜ʖ ･ิ) (my apology to luocha fans)

a/n: i wanted to finish writing this way sooner but life amirite guys(ﾉД`) a lot did change from what i originally planned, but! i'm biting the bullet and finally posting this so that i can move onto something new! that one part in luocha's story... save me from the cringe... and no i will not be posting the rest of my wattpad story, that is torture ill be posting an update later abt my next work(hopefully)!!! stay tuned~ thanks for reading! ☆⌒ヽ(*'､^*)

[writing-mlm]

Reddit Discovers a Relationship

Summary: Peter is acting strangely following a trip to Asgard and you, naturally, take to Reddit to get opinions from absolute strangers Pairing: Peter Parker x Gn!Reader Wc: 2k tags: readers gender is up to the viewer, mentions of cheating but nothing happens, reader is the adoptive child of Loki, this is formatted like a Reddit post LOL a/n: this came to me in a dream

r/AmItheAsshole 4d ago

throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis

AITA for being upset with my bf for being weird after we visited my family abroad?

Hii! Sorry if formatting and spelling is wrong, I’m on mobile. 

So, I (20nb) and my boyfriend (21m) met when we were both around 15, dating since we were 17. If it matters we met through my (adoptive) uncle: they sort of worked together but in the way that you work with Jane from Accounting. It’s a relatively small business so we did eventually cross paths, I don’t want to go into details for privacy's sake, sorry. If it’s confusing I’ll explain in an edit. 

EDIT: basically he’s the bosses intern-turned-employee, I’m the weird guy's brother's kid turned employee. He joined at 15, I ‘joined’ at 13, i’ve been there two years longer than him

So, recently I went to visit my dad in our home country for two weeks with my uncle and his maybe gf, naturally my bf, wanted to join. He wasn’t allowed to at first bc the last time we tried something similar to this he kind of died?? I’m not sure if the event is still triggering for people, but it was that global event where the population got… sanded?? EDIT: yes the blimp But after that I get nervous with him traveling around there, I know it’s not normal and he would be perfectly fine. It took a while but I eventually agreed that he could go. 

We get there without any hiccups and he sees my country for the first time, i literally have to drag him into my childhood home and let him set up a room. My dad wouldn’t let us sleep in the same room, he went to crazy lengths for that lol. But that was fine, it was only two weeks. Really a week and half. But we have a good time, he meets my old friends, I taught him some traditional cooking and such, we explored for a whole day. I literally took him flower picking and they're in our living room. He spends some time with my folks, some of which I was too busy for, my friends had dragged me out and one time no one woke me up. The last day we spent I literally did not see him at all, like at all. And one of my friends, I’ll call her Vivi, was gone too even though we all said we’d have a group picnic in the garden. 

Eventually, we leave back and he’s just… I don’t want to say ignoring me but he’s definitely distant. He’s hiding his phone (not that I check it, it’s just he got a screen blocker thing, he’s leaving it face down, and in the car, he stops all the notifications from coming through the speakers), he’s all sweaty around me, genuinely will not talk about the trip, he keeps asking if I’ve kept in touch with my friends and what they’ve said. 

Prior to this. he’d literally shove his phone in my face to show me videos or text his aunt if his hands are busy. I’ve heard his text messages between him and his friends where they talk about embarrassing topics like him peeing his pants bc he was drunk. He’s also not one to really sweat, he’s nervous a lot but it’s never like this. 

At work he’s asking to be paired with other people and my uncle keeps staring at him?? they talk in the corner a lot and my uncle cannot whisper for the life of him but he suddenly learned. 

I spoke to one of my friends, not the childhood friends but ones I made here, and they think he’s cheating. Idk, we’re never really apart for him to. We live and work together. We commute together. Our friend groups overlap a whole bunch to the point where I only have two friends that aren’t his friends and the same with him. The same friend said he’s always been off, she just never said anything bc I really like him. I’m cutting her off because even if she is right, that’s a weird thing to harbor right?? like if my friend had a shady bf I’d definitely let them know when I felt that. But maybe that’s an American thing, I don’t know. 

I asked him about it, I think three times. Each time he gets more nervous and I’ve decided I’m going to be the same way. His boss, who’s really just like a weird older brother or something to me, says I’m being petty and we need to grow up and talk. His wife says she did the same thing to him and the issue ended up being that he was going through major heart problems and she still feels bad about that. But i don’t think he’s having heart issues, our jobs need regular medical checkups and he’s his same healthy self. 

Am I going crazy? Should I ask again?

EDIT: he’s 21 and I’m 20 but we met when we were both 15 bc his birthday is earlier than mine is

——

WNDRGRL639 • 3d ago

NTA, i’m sorry sweets but it does sound like he cheated. That day where he was gone with ViVi for the whole day is suspicious, have you talked to her to see what she was doing?

-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

Communication with people back home is difficult. They’re kind of the send a bird to deliver mail type, I can only talk to my dad when he’s in this specific area bc it has signal. It’s a portable device from over here. I don’t want to ask him to ask her because everyone is kind of… fearful of my dad but I don’t think she would do that. 

—> Holding_Space

why don’t you think she would?? also NTA 

—-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

bc she’s only into women, sorry I forgot to add that detail I was in a rush 

JoyfulCalling629 • 4d ago

NTA, it’s frustrating when a partner doesn’t say what’s on their mind but give it time. could it have been something your uncle and dad said? are they too protective?

-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

I wouldn’t put it past my dad but my uncle absolutely adores my bf, like even if we weren’t dating they’d still have the same relationship lol. but from what I noticed my dad does like my bf, he just comes off as scary to basically everyone 

—> Daylighthatings

NTA but it sounds like your bf wants to propose!! my wife was the same way leading up to the proposal 

—-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

hmm. We’ve spoken about marriage for sure, so I know it’s something on his mind. I’m going to hope it’s that and not any of these crazy ideas lol. I saw someone say he’s planning on leaving me for my dad, that he’s cheating with my uncle, that i’ve probably scared him off bc my country must be scary. 

——> Daylighthatings

aw it’s certainly none of those, i’ve read through your other replies and the two of you seem absolutely smitten

fhendnsn79 • 2d ago

YTA, he probably gotten scared by your dad. keeping the two of you separate for two weeks? he has issues. not to mention you kept bringing up him dying! i’d want to break up too probably call the cops too

-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

trust me when I say this, I have your address and I’m sending the IRS bc you have unfiled taxes since 2010 good luck in prison!!!!

—-

r/confessions 2d ago

u/spiderman

I asked my partners dad for the family ring and I’m planning to propose but they think I’m cheating on them 

Hii! First time posting, sorry if the formatting is wonky I’m on my phone. Throwaway bc my partner knows my main

Okay, so I (21m) and my partner (20nb), have been together for around 3 years and I knew I wanted to propose to them after they agreed to binge watch all of Star Trek with me even though they hate (and I mean HATE) most alien media because it’s inaccurate. They ended up enjoying it, but that’s not the point. 

Recently we visited their dad, after a lot of pestering they agreed to let me go and I was super nervous. It wasn’t my first time meeting their dad, maybe the third time but I was about to ask a man who could kill me in a second if I could get his family ring so I could marry his only child. I tried to tire them out, meeting with friends, taking me across a lot and I mean a lot of hills and such so I could also talk to their best friend alone. I’ll call her Ivvi. So, I didn’t have a lot of time and unfortunately had to spend the last day of the trip with Ivvi and their dad talking about traditional wedding stuff and how to properly propose (i didn’t even know there was a wrong way!!!) 

So, with all those expectations I’m super nervous. I have to hide my phone bc their uncle is sending me texts about it and he absolutely does not know how to speak in code. my aunt is the same way and I Don't want them to ruin it. I’m also so close to just blurting out the question so (we work at the same place) I’ve been avoiding them. Their uncle keeps pulling me away to ask when and it’s making me so nervous I can’t even think straight around them anymore. 

They’re starting to notice, not start they BEEN noticing but now they’re giving me the cold shoulder. I know this one friend they have, not Ivvi, it’s this one friend they met during college who I CANNOT stand bc she’s fake. They can’t see it because they tend to take things at face value when it comes to Americans because they think we don’t like to lie. I’ve been trying to tell them that it’s not true. But yeah. That friend spoke to one of my friends who asked me if I cheated and i, of course said no, and spilled my whole plan to her because if anyone could help, it would def be her. 

But I know that friend planted some evil seed in my partners head and now I have to rush my plans. 

I’ll update this after I propose tho!!!!

—

DjMightyThor • 2d ago

I just checked… this is Spiderman’s official Reddit. 

Xsavior • 2d ago

SPIDERMAN IS PROPOSING TO NORIDC???

MegannnHorsie • 1d ago

didn’t know they were that serious wow

Spideyfan4EVA • 2d ago

does he know he posted this to his main hopefully Nordic doesn’t see this LMFAOOO

—

r/BestofRedditorUpdates • 1 hr. ago

u/TonyStark

Clearly, I am not Nordic or Spiderman but they’re both too embarrassed to update. You’re welcome. 

Original post- Nordic

Original post- Spiderman

Thought I should update the people of Reddit on the kids proposal plans. I was unfortunately not there but I was fortunate enough to hack into the cameras in their apartment to see it. So, I’ll give a sort of play by play. 

Spiderman, in the living room with the place decorated in Asgardian stuff, rose petals everywhere and their favorite song in the background. He’s typing the Reddit story because he’s so nervous. 

Nordic, coming back from hanging with their friends, enters the apartment. Spiderman posts it without double checking ANYTHING. Chucks his phone into the kitchen sink somehow. 

Nordic walks inside and looks at the sink before looking at Spiderman. Ugly cries, a lot of tears. Like a lot. I asked (got permission to post) and apparently some of the items were from their since deceased family, so it was extra emotional. Spiderman, in full fucking Asgardian, asks Nordic to marry them. Oh it’s snotty tears now. Idk wtf he said, and Thor won’t translate, so…

There’s two rings!! The royal one and one from Nordic’s blood family. They kiss and fireworks!!! Joking, that’s a fire hazard. But he does immediately call Thor, who was in the room with Sam. I heard the tears from my office. They hang up and I’ll cut the rest of the footage bc I do not want to bleach my eyes thank you. 

—

spiderman • 1 hr. ago

MR STARK YOU DIDNT NEED TO PUT THE LAST PART 

-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis 

or any of this actually why are you in our cameras??

—> TonyStark  I made them.

[yiichan]

oblivious ; kwon soonyoung | hoshi

PAIRINGS — yandere!hoshi x actor!male!reader WORD COUNT — 0.9k words. GENRE — yandere, nonidol au, request. WARNINGS — yandere/obsessive elements, reader is oblivious, your writer took too much time reading a/b/o works and playing jjk phantom parade and working that she keeps forgetting to write.

REQUEST — hiiii!! just found your blog, and let me just say that your works are amazing. like, i rarely see any svt x male reader fics, and as a fanboy, that was honestly sad. so your blog is literally a god send. may i request a yandere!hoshi x actor!male reader where they are close friends. hoshi obviously want something more, but reader is entirely oblivious to the hints hoshi is dropping. please, and thank you!! <3.

WRITER'S NOTES — i had to rewrite this like three times lol, hope you like it? also i changed the presentation format for requests hehe.

masterlist | navigation | main page | kofi | ao3

You adjusted your cap, focusing on the bubbling hotpot as Soonyoung carefully dipped a piece of meat into the broth. The steam curled up, warm and comforting, though the way Soonyoung watched you felt oddly intense.

“Here, you should eat more, hyung,” he said, fishing out the cooked meat and placing it on your plate with practiced care.

You smiled at him, pushing a cup of water his way. “Thanks for inviting me, Hoshi-ah.”

Soonyoung’s lips curved into a small smile, a blush dusting his cheeks. “How could I not? You’re the most important person to me, hyung.”

You chuckled, dipping the meat into the sauce he’d already prepared for you. “Of course, you’re my best friend, Hoshi-ah,” you replied casually, completely missing the way his jaw clenched for a split second.

As you turned your attention back to your phone, Soonyoung’s gaze lingered on your face, his eyes tracing every line and curve. His chest tightened as he watched you, your obliviousness both endearing and maddening. Why don’t you see it? he thought, biting the inside of his cheek.

The soft sound of your laughter broke him from his thoughts. “What’s so funny?” he asked, forcing a playful tone.

“Just something a friend sent me,” you said, showing him the screen briefly.

Soonyoung’s smile faltered for a heartbeat before he quickly recovered. “You’re always so popular, hyung,” he teased lightly, though his words carried a faint edge.

You laughed again, and Soonyoung swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the table. “I’ll make sure you’re always laughing like this,” he muttered under his breath, the words barely audible.

“Hmm? Did you say something, Hoshi-ah?” you asked, glancing up at him.

He shook his head, masking his emotions with a bright smile. “Nothing, hyung. Just eat up—you’ll need the energy if we’re going to watch movies later.”

After setting up the guest room, Soonyoung returned to the living room, his grin as wide as ever. “Hey, hyung,” he said, holding up a Blu-ray case. “Look what I found in my collection. I didn’t even realize I had this one—your movie.”

You blinked, taken aback. “Wait, you have that? It’s so old.”

“Old but gold,” he quipped, already loading it into the player. “Besides, I don’t mind rewatching it. You’re amazing in this one.”

You felt your cheeks flush slightly. It wasn’t that you were unaccustomed to praise—being an actor, compliments came with the territory. But the way Soonyoung said it, his tone laced with something deeper, made you feel strangely self-conscious. “You really don’t have to…”

“Oh, but I do,” he interrupted, plopping down next to you. “You need to see how incredible you are. Maybe you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

The film began, and as the opening scene played out, you cringed slightly. “This was one of my first roles. I wasn’t even that good yet.”

“You’re being modest,” Soonyoung countered, his eyes glued to the screen. “Look at that expression. That intensity. You were born for this, hyung.”

You smiled sheepishly, focusing on the movie. Still, it was a little surreal watching yourself on screen while sitting next to your best friend. Soonyoung’s enthusiasm was infectious—he laughed at all the right moments, gasped at the action scenes, and even mimicked one of your lines in an exaggerated tone, earning a playful nudge from you.

But as the film progressed, you noticed Soonyoung stealing glances at you more often than the screen. His gaze was heavy, lingering on your profile, his lips quirking into a faint smile whenever you reacted to a scene. It was flattering, sure, but also… unsettling.

During a particularly emotional part of the movie, Soonyoung let out a low sigh. “You know,” he began, his voice softer now, “I always thought you were amazing. Even before you became famous. You’ve always had this… spark.”

You chuckled nervously. “Come on, Hoshi-ah, you’re making it sound like I’m a superstar or something.”

“You are,” he said simply, turning to face you fully. “To me.”

His words hung in the air, and you felt a strange tension settle between you. You were about to respond when the scene on screen shifted to a romantic moment—your character leaning in for a kiss with the lead actress.

Soonyoung’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “That part,” he muttered, his voice dropping, “always felt... off. She didn’t deserve you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the intensity in his tone. “It’s just a movie, Soonyoung.”

“Yeah, but still.” He laughed lightly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “If I were the director, I would’ve cast someone else for that role.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you settled for an awkward laugh, shifting slightly away from him on the couch. Soonyoung noticed but said nothing, his smile returning, though it felt more calculated now.

As the movie ended, you stretched and stood up, feigning a yawn. “Alright, I really should get to bed. Thanks for watching that with me, though.”

Soonyoung’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes followed your every movement. “Of course, hyung. Sweet dreams.”

You retreated to the guest room, shutting the door behind you and leaning against it. For the first time since you’d arrived, you felt a strange unease creeping over you. There was something in the way Soonyoung looked at you tonight—like he wasn’t just watching you, but memorizing you.

As you lay in bed, your phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.

“Do you ever wonder who truly knows you?”

© yiichan, 2024 origin of divider

[ardbar]

do you think with EMF as champion and parkour civilization no longer under constant threat there with be development of art? like parkour performances and festivals for example? Or the introduction of redstone parkour via the command blocks (since literally any element could be summoned into existence so long as EMF was imaginative enough) I feel like EMF would be better at inventing concepts like that given that he's never wanted for shelter or food. (Being born a master and all so it makes sense he's not great at imagining new buildings and homes). What he has always striven for is harder parkour/ways to progress his skill, so i feel like him being good at imagining new methods for it wouldn't be too big a stretch given he's had time to settle into his role of champion

Okay wait so there’s a lot to unpack here but there’s something I have to say first and this comment isn’t just directed at you but guys EMF was born on the noob level that’s not a head canon it’s fact. I don’t blame people for not knowing this since it was cut out of the second movie but in the episode, “Minecraft but I Discover the HISTORY of PARKOUR CIVILIZATION” Evbo uses the command blocks to see what the world was like before the evil champion took over and he see’s EMF on the noob level with leather boots. I don’t know why this wasn’t included in the super cut but yeah it has somewhat important materials in it and it teased Seawatt going to the parkour fighters level.

Okay little rant over now I’ll address the actual point of your comment. I do agree that EMF would usher in an era of advancement when it comes to Parkour, however, I am reluctant to believe that it would bleed over into the arts. While I do think it would be really cool and of course I’m kinda speaking out of my ass here but I don’t think it would make much sense. In their world basically everything revolves around parkour being used as both a currency and a way to settle disputes, while possible for both to exist I think it would be unlikely. However that isn’t to say it’s impossible given that even their writing is in Parkour it is possible that everything including the preforming arts would make use of Parkour in some type of fashion. I think it would be funny if the battles incorporated this aspect into a dance battle format but with parkour.

Back to parkour advancing I think that would make a lot of sense. The champion before Evbo definitely didn’t want things to change or for people to grow in their skills, if he ever introduced too many new ideas it would greatly increase the odds that he would be beaten, I would view this time period as a type of dark age. Now the Old Man’s civilization I think would be rather interesting in terms of advancement. We know that he did try and introduce new ideas into the world examples being the barrier blocks and totems. However, he was also reluctant to certain changes if we look at him hating the parkour races. Little side note I think this fact is rather strange, I know in canon it’s because people would die from the races, but don’t they die anyway? I forget if it ever says it makes it impossible for people to respawn or is somehow different than other parkour battles but yeah. Anyway I think while amenable to change he could still be stuck in his ways somewhat and scared of radical changes. Now I think EMF would differ from both of the champions we have information about. I especially think EMF would be welcoming to all types of new ideas especially since Evbo has become the god of parkour. I could see him believing that coming up with new ways to do parkour or to shake things up as a type of worship to his god or as some type of offering. I also think that because Evbo is the parkour god he wouldn’t be too worried about anyone doing nefarious things because if anything ever does go wrong than evbo could step in. These two factors I think would lead to a type of parkour renaissance. As you mentioned I do think red stone would play a large role in this. What I think would be interesting about red stone becoming commonplace is I could see their society moving away from impromptu battles. Instead of people making their own course to fight there might be a type of parkour colosseum with prebuilt courses that people either race on or it could be a last man standing type of situation. If this were to happen I could see parkour kind of shifting into the arts, as it stops being a means of battle and more of a spectacle and a kind of honor.

I think a really interesting point you made was about parkour festivals. I wonder how this would take shape. We know that people did do rituals at the parkour temple to try and get the attention of the parkour god to no avail. I wonder if these types of festivals would actually carry a lot of weight now that there is an active parkour god or would they remain a thing of the past brought back as a fun memory, like how we celebrate holidays but without any of the orginal historical value.

These were just a few ideas I had on this matter.

[sunderingstars]

simulated universe addendum: ship of fools

— i found yet another occurrence after i posted my other simulated universe analyses, so here it is (this time from the unknowable domain)! watch in real time as i become absolutely obsessed with the implications !!

— written during 2.6

— word count: 3k, list format

— cover art. jumping right into it: the red / orange masks & a suspiciously aha-mask-looking shadow implies that the masked fools may not be just fanatical, but directly supported and endorsed by aha themself (or at least a part of them). also, note that the fool is bowing with one hand, something that sampo often likes to do. (i don’t think the fool on the cover is sampo, though.)

— the rewards are interesting, for reasons i’ll get into later. for now, i just want to point out how the options are staggered, with two giving you negative curios and the last one giving you specifically a “shining trapezohedron die.” they are also broken into three rounds separated by dialogue, meaning all options come in sets of two. the order does not change.

— the masks are also listed quite neatly here: sinister, ridiculous, masquerade, fox-faced, intact, and broken. each set seems to contradict itself — sinister versus ridiculous, masquerade versus fox-faced, and, most notably, intact versus broken.

— introductory dialogue: before the options appear, we the player and trailblazer (assumed to be the addressed “you”) are shown swimming in the belly of something called the “joyless beast.” surrounded by “humorless particles” in the “sea of impassivity,” and are invited onboard the ship of fools by a lost masked fool. apparently, he has been tricked by others into crossing the sea, and now finds himself drunk and attempting to get his bearings.

— note: while i’m not sure this makes sense, i wouldn’t rule out the possibility that this fool is aha. as mentioned at different parts in the occurrence, they seem to be running the “ship of fools” — i.e. a very large, plural collective that could be seen as representative of the real-life organization — the tavern can be heard even if it physically makes no sense to be there, the fool’s mask changes back and forth “in the blink of an eye,” they’re drunk (similar to the masked fools boundary equation), and they are the one conveying these many stories about the masks to us. they seem to have an encyclopedic knowledge of the goings-on of followers of the elation, even remarking on how a joke is “unfunny” at the end. paired with the very aha-looking shadow on the cover, and i’d say we’ve got ourselves a theory.

— however, it is strange that aha would find themselves lost or tricked, but perhaps that just comes with the territory. they often co-mingle with mortals, after all, and if they’ve spent enough time with the fools it’s possible one of their own children decided to make a haha funny by sending them hurtling into the literal concept of “jokeless.” a concept, after all, can only be defeated by another concept. anyways!

— my main interests here are the specific names of objects and places — “joyless beast,” “humorless particles,” and “sea of impassivity” — and the tavern we hear despite there being nothing behind the door.

— the names give some good insight into what contrasts the elation; lack of joy, lack of humor, and impassivity are all things that seem to counteract the effect of jokes, rendering them null. interestingly, it may give some insight into sampo’s nihility status as well, since “impassivity” and “nothing” are the domains of ix. it may be that sampo is trying to counteract the effects of elation within himself, or even within others.

— the tavern is also intriguing to me, since it is specifically mentioned to be heard despite there for certain being nothing behind the door. it may truly be only laughter that floats by on stomach acid, but i also think it is interesting to consider that the masked fools’ tavern may be able to move itself in an otherworldly way, popping up in new and exciting places where it makes no sense to be.

— sinister & ridiculous: the sinister mask, which grants the player an annihilation component, is described by the fool to have belonged to a ferocious monster that instigated riots through lying. on the other hand, the ridiculous mask is about someone incredibly adept at auctioning off intangible things like gravity and nuclear force. as a result, many businessmen across the cosmos want to “flay the hide from his flesh” (wow!), and even though the option says you’ll get cosmic fragments, the text is garbled and the player receives two negative curios instead.

— in this case, the sinister mask seems to be straightforward; you get what you want. however, the jumbled text on the ridiculous mask is nothing more than a lie, giving you something different than expected.

— both masks seem to represent two separate people, using different pronouns and professions to distinguish the individuals. the true contrast comes with the nature of the masks themselves, with one being “sinister” and one being “ridiculous.”

— dialogue: pretty straightforward, more chaotic masked fools shenanigans. one thing i will note, though, is the specific use of the word “imperfectly.” with the emphasis on perfection in the *perfect* grand challenge occurrence and the later emphasis on “pristine” in this very same one, i’d say there’s a connection here. with how the fool may be aha (or symbolic of them in some way), maybe they really do have a preoccupation with “perfection.”

— masquerade & fox-faced: the masquerade mask references a “ball for the entire universe” filled with multicolored masks, making a very specific comparison between the laughter and a virus in the aether network. it also ends with the line “who ever said an in-your-face joke isn’t a joke?” and grants the player a scepter. then, the fox-faced mask is said to be a “scarlet mask” that infiltrates via disguise. it heavily alludes to feelings of lost personhood and performance before giving the player two negative curios.

— again, there seems to be some contrast, with the masquerade mask favoring “in-your-face” jokes and flashy colors and big opulent balls and the fox-faced mask favoring “infiltrating via disguise” and acting and being part of a play. while there are similarities in performance, masquerade is much more in the light of it all than the fox-faced mask, which stays humming in the background.

— i am not sure who the masquerade mask is meant to represent (perhaps another character we’ll meet later on), but i strongly believe the fox-faced mask is referencing sparkle. it has her name written all over it, from the disguises to the plays and performances to even the name “fox-faced” itself. additionally, “if you wear a mask for too long, maybe you’ll never be able to take it off” is an entire theme with her character, since her many masks represent her loss of personhood and jumbled identity.

— (it’s also important to bring up how the masquerade and fox-face masks may even be alluding to the same person; i.e. a potential “before” and “after” or different sides of sparkle we maybe haven’t seen, one side taken to the extreme.)

— the jumbled text makes a comeback, this time with sparkle’s mask. much like the first time, the player is lied to, and instead of receiving normal curios, we receive negative ones.

— now onto the main course! as you and the fool try to make a break for it, two last options arise: an intact mask or a broken mask.

— intact mask: this is a very cryptic joke, perhaps the most cryptic in the entire occurrence. it is stilted in small bits, mentioning “sharp-tasting collections,” “pristine white complete masks,” and “breaking magnificent mirages.” “lies are not the unique properties of the fools” also implies someone from a different organization or mode of existence; potentially someone not part of the fools at all. it gives a few examples of “truth,” as well, like revealing conspiracies and exposing politicians.

— while i believe this mask could be referring to many characters (perhaps ones we haven’t even met yet), i think it may be referring to a group rather than a single person:

— aha stuffed toys. although the mask in the option is singular, the masks mentioned in the joke are plural. this invocation of plurality rather than singularity leads me to envision that the “aha stuffed toys” as an entire group may be mentioned here — well, the “intact” ones at least. this would align with “lies are not the unique properties of the fools,” which i take to reference how the fools are not unique due to the existence of other, lying beings of elation; this would fit with mini-aha dolls who lie in service of their creator, but are not a part of the fools. additionally, the specific examples given in the joke could be examples of different dolls choosing what kind of chaos to sow, as they have “time for leisure” that allows them to, well, basically be absolute rabble-rousers in aha’s image.

— “they all say truth is above all, but they cry like a mourning actor when the truth is revealed” may reference the nature of the dolls themselves. perhaps they are unaware of their purpose or the nature of their existence, feeling panicked and grief-stricken when they realize what they were really made for. there is even the possibility that none of these dolls are meant to survive long; they may all be simply treading water until aha decides it’s time for the next drink.

— speaking of which, “sharp-tasting collections” may reference the cracks and edges of broken dolls, which could potentially turn into a “sharp taste” of pain aha drinks (symbolically or otherwise) like in the masked fools boundary equation. what if i cried???

— bing-bing! heart transplant mention — ties to the “organic heart” curio in curio hacker. perhaps all of aha’s dolls can fit the idea of organic heart?

— (“pristine white complete masks” is interesting as well, since it gives a specific, sterile color to the whole ordeal. it really reminds me of the gray-white hair hidden at the bottom of sampo’s blue, as well as the muted grays of his outfit below the jacket. perhaps he’s simply tried to paint over his “base model”.)

— the “stuffed toys” angle is further supported by the reward for this option, which is, as you may have guessed, cosmic fragments. (as in, the same cosmic fragments you receive from the aha stuffed toy occurrence.)

— broken mask: last on the list, the fool describes the broken mask as a “bitter and depressed collection item” who caused the kuvida nebula to become a “dead zone” due to flipping the dichotomy of truths and lies. the option says it will give us a three-star scepter, but the jumbled text gives us a “shining trapezohedron die” instead.

— i’ll cut to the chase: i’m 99.9% sure this is about sampo.

— one, the “bitter and depressed collection item” not only references the intact aha stuffed toy group from the last joke, but specifies the words “bitter” and “depressed” to be unique to this singular collection item, much like sampo’s “betrayal” and “hate” motifs.

— two, “dim and broken mask” may refer to whatever mask shenanigans sampo has going on via sparkle in penacony’s trailblaze quest. also, the fact that sampo has broken heart motifs and tries to give the fools a wide berth.

— three, “a liar with negative credit.” i repeat, a liar with negative credit. simple, easy. sampo lies. sampo’s profession revolves around credits. sampo hates owing people things. sampo likely has negative credit. (this may refer to status, monetary funds, or power. or all of it!)

— four, “that person.” interesting deflection. interesting lack of pronouns. interesting vague, “you might know this person” energy similar to the “entity” in curio hacker. i know what you are trying to hide from us star rail :)

— five, “inflation engine.” once again, a reference to monetary processes.

— six, “if everything that comes out of your mouth is viewed as a lie, then truth will replace the value of lies.” on a simple level, this references sampo’s propensity for lying and his need to find workarounds to keep the effect of his schemes the same. on a deeper level, it may have something to say about his intelligence and cunning ability to get what he wants. this isn’t a sampo who tells the truth out of some attempt at pure goodness, but a sampo who caused an entire area to become a “dead zone” because he realized “hey, if they all think i’m lying, i’ll just tell the truth and it’ll have the same effect!”. while there’s the possibility “kuvida nebula” was an awful, abhorrent place that deserved to be swindled, there’s also the chance it wasn’t.

— huge fan of this for sampo, who i want to succeed in all of his endeavors, but not a great way to prove his innocence in court. also, “kuvida nebula” may be a great place to look out for future references of in-game.

— the aforementioned quote also implies that sampo telling the truth may not be an entirely good thing; it can be easy to think, especially with the mr. cold feet event coming up, that him being honest with us (and the trailblazer) is a step in the right direction, but… well… let’s just remember what happened to kuvida.

— moving on, i believe this “broken mask” sampo joke is meant to directly mirror and contrast the “intact mask” of the other aha stuffed toys. as mentioned in other analyses, i believe sampo may have been abandoned or discarded as an experiment or broken goods. if that’s the case, these two mask jokes being part of the same option pair makes sense — much like the other pairs, these are two different modes of existence that contrast with each other, one being fun and straightforward, while the other is darker and more complex.

— additionally, the garbled text makes a comeback, and i believe this misspelling (all the misspellings) are intentional. every single garbled text option is a lie; every single garbled text option does not give what it says it will. the first two give negative curios, and this one gives:

— shining trapezohedron die. this curio replaces all current curios with random ones. very elation-aligned, in my opinion, since the elation path seems to be very focused on chaos and “randomness.” the only reason i can think of that the sampo option would “surprise” us with this curio in particular is the randomness of elation itself. if sampo is aligned on a deeper level with the elation — such as being an emanator — this seems like something “random” he might do in conjunction with the overall path. additionally, it may be something similar to his “surprise present” burst, with the implications being 1. a present (something new, something unique) and 2. a surprise (something random you couldn’t have predicted).

— story. the die’s story itself is also very interesting. much like curio hacker’s curios, it focuses on experimentation, combination, and even paradox. it has “irregular sides” and “a wondrous light that twirls unrestrained within it.” the word “unrestrained” catches my attention, as despite being trapped within a physical object, an immeasurable power still rests within. in addition, this die is “said to be the seal of a horrible and indescribable evil god,” which interests me as to why it is given in sampo’s option. i wonder if the die, like curio hacker’s curios, is meant to convey something about sampo’s existence, or even be a stand-in for the man himself.

— in this case, aha may be the “horrible” god described, as from the dolls’ perspective aha must surely be “evil.” much of what we’ve seen so far paints aha as somewhat cruel and twisted in their jokes, anyways.

— the die must also, specifically, not be touched in dark places. the story itself details a few people who did not believe this “myth,” and stayed with the die in a dark room. apparently, the light within the die “cannot be blocked out,” which created the “shining trapezohedron die paradox.” the light, in my opinion, may be synonymous with elation or path power, something that aha may have personally bestowed upon sampo. since it cannot be diminished, it seems to be a factor of sampo’s creation or rise to emanatorhood; the elation he was “gifted” with from the beginning cannot be taken away or smoothed over no matter how hard he might try.

— “you cannot prove something that cannot be proven.” this is the line the story ends with, and i find it very fitting with sampo’s existence. since the sentient doll from aha stuffed toy is said to be a secret only aha knows, i interpret this line as being relevant to the fact no one else knows about sampo’s creation. perhaps there is something that “cannot be proven” about sampo’s creation or reason for existence, something that aha is able to make sure no one else knows through godlike means. just speculation, though!

— overall, the die still fits in with sampo on a broader level, like with the unrestrained power trapped within a small form and the mention of gods and specific circumstances where you shouldn’t interact.

— it’s also important to note that sampo’s option in the occurrence is the only fake text one that does not give only negative curios — the die is a regular curio, and may give normal curios as much as it may give negative ones. i think this ties back to how much of a wildcard sampo can be, either helping or harming at a moment’s notice. at least it’s better than sparkle’s, though, which only gives negative curios.

— as for the text itself, i believe those options are meant to show the more duplicitous, darker side of the fools, and by extension the elation. the first options are confident, opulent, pristine, while the second, chaotic text options are angry, lost, and filled with dead zones. it’s no wonder why those second options seem more in line with the randomness of elation, closer in status to the unpredictability of their aeon; the elation itself may have a rotting core. and poor sampo is just there, caught in the middle of it.

— “what an unfunny joke,” the fool ends with. aha ends with. maybe they’re right. maybe the joke was a bad idea. maybe it went too far from the beginning. maybe it was cruel. and maybe, just maybe, sampo’s suffering wasn’t all that funny in the first place.

— alright, that’s all i have! gonna wring aha by the neck like a snake hehehe (except i’m not because that’s exactly what they’d want me to do) :3 i’d love to hear others’ thoughts in the comments, as well as any theories surrounding sampo or the masked fools !! :)

© analysis by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[devine-fem]

its truly a strange phenomenon that is the fact that writers will write jon so ooc but then have him be so infatuated with damian… is that just me? like its so weird how they do things to put his character in jeopardy with the idea of trying to separate him from robin but then make it seem like he can’t go five minutes without being around damian

like why would you format this like this??? do you want us to like them being apart? then why are they literally helping raise a child together, i dont understand. also, whats going in with jon… hes not superman, hes not superboy… what is he? why did they do him like this and put him in this redundant position…

im just tired, at this point

[silly-circus]

★SillyString’s story/background★

(Way long overdue lmao and long I’m so sorry guys, also made some edits because I wanted to word some things better)

I want to start off by saying she is me, me is she(Im not sure if I made it clear or not so apologies I’m kinda dumb🫰). I say “her” in my posts instead of “me” because idk it feels right since I make her look differently than I actually do. Even so, we share the same name and I do the clown look all the time when I go out to places that I get an excuse to🧍‍♂️so really it is just me but anyway,,, time to begin! This is my first time actually writing this out so I’m sorry if it’s formatted and explained terribly

First off, Silly String is my persona’s clown name. She came up with it herself, everything else was Pennywise’s idea. She was originally a human, and still looks like one and has the appetite of one(when she changed Pennywise assumed she would want to eat people. He was wrong.) She lived in texas(yee-honk) before moving to Maine literally because she thought “why not?” and ended up in good old Derry. Her life growing up wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t the best. She was always into odd and strange things, or things that most would find creepy(clowns. Love clowns. They’re so cool) so she was kinda outcasted from others at a young age but soon people learned to just let her live in peace which of course she was happy about. She did manage to make some friends, solidarity. After moving, she continued pursuing freelance photography and painting, but her full time job is as a barista in a local coffee shop(wow, how interesting💀).

The way that she met Pennywise was kinda stupid. All she was doing was taking photos of the local wildlife and next thing you know a kid is running by before she notices a fucking weird ass clown creature from hell charging straight towards her(she still snapped a photo before running). He does catch up to her and jumps her. How she managed to not get away, but the kid did, don’t ask me. She survived, her camera unfortunately did not(he gets her a new one eventually guys trust).

since then, they kept bumping into each other. He does try to kill her again but she kept managing to escape him(pissed him off more and more each time) but soon enough he starts to chill out and basically decides to learn more about her. The more she realized he was going to not continuously try eat her every time he visited she would start asking him questions about who he was as an entity and where he came from. It does start out as a weird friendship where he would mess with her at work or appear out of literally no where to hang around. He does start to enjoy her company and watching her do normal, human things since her doing it made it seem entertaining. After a while of slowly getting closer and closer they become loving parters yay(she was still human at this time).

Fast forward and they get “married” which they really call their “eternal binding.” Basically what it means is that she became a part of him. As in if he dies, she dies. She unfortunately didn’t gain any cool shape shifting and such, she just gets to live and thrive as long as he does. When it first happened she was having a hard time with it simply because she’s going to outlive everyone she knows and will continue to, but over time she made her peace with it and saw it as a privilege to watch the world change around her and of course stay with her beloved.

Also the year they met was set in the 1980s, or honestly it could be any time after that or something I don’t know yall get creative I’m just going with the flow.

That is it :) sorry again this is long, and I hope every one has a good day/night(it’s 3 am why do I do this to myself). I also hope you guys continue to follow along with me on their lover clown journey :D

AND- little sneak peek of an upcoming piece I’m working on for Mermay 😙

[catscidr]

hiiiii omg your childe fic was SO. CUTE. 😭😭🩷🩷🩷 sooooo could I request a scenario where alhaitham and reader are roommates???? romantic tension is real 🤭 imagine the lingering stares at his body (muscles) and getting caught ??? you cooking for him?? falling asleep on his shoulder on the couch?? helping him fix his tie for work???? he's so cute i am absolutely deranged i am so sorry ☺️☺️☺️ dating but not dating fr

i made this into a drabble-y format because i wanted to write things inspired by ur ideas without the story dragging on or being repetitive ueagdhfgs i GET the al haitham brainrot he’s so. aa. if i ever say no to romanticizing mundane life call the fire dept because that is Not me. also never apologize for being feral over a fictional man...... no one is immune to hot 2d men ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff, domestic life shenanigans, reader ogles his muscles bc Yeah, lowkey crack a little bit includes: gn!reader, alhaitham, lowkey modern au sorta kindof maybe wc: 1,3k

Living with Alhaitham is easy. Living with your feelings for him, however, is not. At first you thought you would simply get flustered by him because he looked intimidating and because you didn’t know him all that well- you were just a little scared of him and the way your heart raced around him was because of your body panicking. Surely. But, the more time went on and you got to know him, slowly but surely, he came out of his shell and your schedules began to merge to allow yourselves to easily (metaphorically) dance around the other, a seamless waltz that you perfected to a tee. And, to no one's surprise, you weren't perpetually flustered because of how scary he could look.

-ˋˏ his and your chores

Cleaning up after yourself when you live with someone is imperative; when you live alone you can let yourself go a little, but when you share a living space with someone it’s only courteous to keep your shared space clean of any messes. 

You and Alhaitham had agreed that you’d share chores. Most of the time, when you were on picking-up-the-trash duty you wouldn’t need to do too much since he would have emptied out his own trashcan in the communal bin, and the same thing applied to him when it was his turn to maintain your shared bathroom clean since you’d do your best to keep it as clean as possible. However, one of the things you didn’t realize would affect you so much was when you had agreed to this “system” was when you’d see him do the dishes for the first time. 

Something as banal as your roommate standing over the kitchen sink, sleeveless shirt exposing his muscles as he scrubbed the plates you had both used to eat dinner. Was it the water that would occasionally splash on him, making his black tank look even the slightest bit sheer and making you stare shamelessly, drinking in the sight? Was it his small scowl whenever he touched soggy bits of food in the sink? (making you wish he was scowling at you in a strange desire to have his attention even if it was as a result of a bad thing)

...it was probably because, when he was doing the dishes, you realized he always had his headphones in, and it allowed you to stare at him all you wanted when he wasn’t facing you because he was so focused on his task. 

He caught you staring once, but you managed to convince him that it wasn't what it looked like (it was) 

-ˋˏ coming back from the gym 

Alhaitham went to the gym often, that much you could guess from his build. No one had biceps that thick from genes alone- you got to confirm your guess when you (literally) ran into him when he was coming back from the gym in the middle of the night. He promptly apologized (with an expressionless face) and explained that the gym was much quieter at 3am when you asked him why in the Seven he was at the gym so late. Though the flat was dark, you could still see the faint outline of his body from the small bits of moonlight shining through... somewhere. Peeling your eyes away from him you make your way to the fridge to do what you had come out of your room for- that good cold, mid-night glass of water. 

His eyes followed your sluggish figure, scoffing amusedly. With only a few steps, he catches up to you and grabs the glass from your hands, chugging it. Some water dribbles down the side of his mouth down his chin and you do nothing but gawk at him, emotions a mess. 

Should you be mad he so rudely took your glass of water? Or should you be grateful you could see how body properly, illuminated by the fridge light? One thing you knew for sure, you were going to need to grab a new glass of water since he stole yours. 

-ˋˏ making food

With your chores separated, there was one thing you had agreed to do on your own- that being anything regarding lunch and dinner. Breakfast was easy enough; you’d eat a normal portion of a normal breakfast while Al Haitham would eat almost twice as much as you because of his workout routine (he had explained how he had to bulk and offered to pay for the extra groceries) so you often ate the same thing since it was more convenient. 

Lunch was different. Sometimes you had places to be (whether it be work or class) and you wouldn’t be there to eat lunch, vice versa. The same thing applied to dinner. So, when you both were at the apartment at the same time for a meal that wasn’t breakfast, you’d make food for the other- but only occasionally. Basically, only when you felt like it. 

The first time he cooked you dinner he made a hearty soup that, by taking one glance at it, made your mouth water. You insisted that he make more to keep as leftovers so you could bring some to eat when you had time between classes, but he refused, saying that it was best fresh. 

So, he made you dinner more often. Every time he did you felt your heart clench at the domestic sight; Alhaitham in a corny, pink and frilly apron with his sleeves rolled up, carefully chopping up vegetables and tossing spices in the pot. 

One time he accidentally cut his finger and you rushed to his side to help. You held his hand under the running water of the sink and had to force your brain to act normally- it was hard not to let it wander when you kept focusing on the feeling of his hand in yours. 

A different time, he made you taste the broth by holding the spoon up to your mouth. The proximity nearly killed you. 

-ˋˏ convincing him to play games together 

Your roommate spent most of his time being productive, unlike you. Most of the time. 

You offered to play games together every so often when you had first moved in. His answer was a polite no (but still equally gut-wrenching and embarrassing to be on the receiving end of) and you gave up for a while. It couldn’t be that bad to have a beefy, intimidating roommate you barely knew, right? It was fine if you stayed strangers and just... respected the other person’s space. Probably. 

But eventually, your relationship changed from strangers to roommates to acquainted roommates. It was then that, when he saw you on your laptop in the living room, playing the role of Player 1 and Player 2 to solve puzzles, that he thought maybe he should just... play something with you. He told himself that he just felt bad for you, but part of him was actually interested in what you were playing. 

He sat next to you, startling you from the sudden shift on the sofa. 

“Is your offer still on the table?” he asked with an amused smirk, watching the character on your screen fall into poison. With a bashful smile you nod, placing the laptop closer to him so it could rest on your right thigh and his left thigh. 

Explaining the rules of the game was easy enough; you’re fireboy and he’s watergirl, each of you have to go through your own door to clear the level and to get to those doors you have to solve puzzles with the other one’s help. Needless to say, you both learned a lot from each other.  

You didn’t know your silver haired, perpetually calm roommate could raise his voice and he didn’t know you had such a wide, extensive vocabulary. 

[brokenwinebox]

Mikey Told Claire About The Bear? Part 2

This won’t be an overall long post, but this is technically another segment to my meta on the question about Claire and her strange and seemingly out of place connection to knowing the name of The Bear.

Everything has gotten only weirder because of the confirmation that Claire and Donna were somewhat connected since the first episode of meeting them with the scripts and interview articles.

I personally never found the connection to Donna/Claire straight away until the Fishes episode. Although, in the aftermath of my dissertation, the scripts, and the interviews, I’ve been looking at certain things with a different perspective.

We know that Donna called him Michael after being asked to go to the dinner table by Carmy. I speculated that this Logan persona could actually just be Mikey’s personality because of Carmy’s grief.

What’s generally dark about Claire’s character gets even worse when you think on the theory of Mikey telling Claire about The Bear. I believe I’ve talked about this to some degree but the scale or magnitude of its meaning almost went completely over my head.

Donna literally called Carmy after her eldest son when asked to go to the dinner table. Carmy can’t even be his own person without being compared to Mikey. If it was Mikey’s personality he was emulating for the Logan persona, this means that Carmy felt like he couldn’t be himself at the party and Claire didn’t realize it. She was, instead, entertained by it.

(Not to mention, Neil Fak called Mikey his best friend in the very first episode of the show. Who is Neil Fak’s best friend now?)

If Claire shares attributes with Donna, who has a history (no matter how brief) of not acknowledging Carmy’s care for her as his own, then how much has Claire been projecting Mikey onto Carmy like Donna?

Anyway, here’s a video compilation of Carmy/Mikey being Neil Fak’s best friend and the weird coincidences on my theory about the Logan/Mikey personality that I already talked about in a separate post but decided to do it here in video format:

Credit to @spywhitney for catching Cicero calling Mikey an animal!

Massive Update: I made this post on August 16th. Now, I have to update the things that just clicked for me. @fresaton made a reblog about Natalie, Claire, and Carmy on @whenmemorydies’s original post about the claw, the scrunchie and the prayer card. We’re going to talk about this here since I was going to post this anyway. This feels super speculative on my part but work with me here lol. I’m going to try to connect all the dots to literally all my previous metas about Claire.

The Dinner Table

In the episode where we constantly jump in time, did they potentially skip a scene between Claire and Carmy? He looks at his scar, which is something we know is connected to Mikey, before leaving to go to The Bear. Claire and Carmy also share a scene together about that particular scar before Claire talks about the injured girl.

I have two metas on that scene. The first being about the strange topic of glass between Donna and Claire and the second was about Claire and her weird connection to mold from the scripts which also happened to have a Donna/Claire parallel.

If he did have dinner with Claire, then the reveal of Mikey telling her about The Bear could’ve happened then.

Thinking on the second episode of season three, he mentioned how he wanted them to see what they’re capable of. Sydney immediately asked who those people are.

Sydney: “Why?” Carmy: “So they can see what we’re capable of.” Sydney: “Who’s ‘they’?”

In the first part of this meta that’s linked with the title above, I noticed Carmy did the same thing when Carmy and Claire were talking by the grocery store fridges. My previous thoughts will be in italics except the dialogue as always.

Carmy: “No, I don’t think we even…We didn’t even tell anybody what the name was.” Claire: “You one hundred perfect told me the name.” Carmy: “How could you remember the name?”

The question that Carmy should have asked is how she even knew it in the first place?

Notice he said he doesn’t think THEY (Carmy and Mikey) told anyone?

Carmy literally said in the s1 finale, he realized he didn’t even know anything about him. Why would Carmy be that confident in a person he admitted to not knowing? Was it disbelief?

Is it possible the “they” that Carmy is referring to could be Chef David, Claire, and Mikey? Especially when you think on what Carmy was thinking of in the season three finale.

What gets even stranger is what I said about the “Let it Rip” reference. I mentioned that Mikey could’ve been referenced in the second episode of season three because of the weird similarities to the season 1 finale panic attack scene before the thoughts of food calmed Carmy down and Sydney getting lost in the food before Tina intercepted it.

I kind of talk about Tina specifically and how she could be the physical mother figure to Marcus and Sydney to prevent them from getting possessed on @moodyeucalyptus’s post as well.

Another question is did Claire reference to something that Carmy knew wasn’t about him in the dinner scene the same way Donna called him Michael before going to the dinner table? I had also mentioned before that it was strange that Claire would just leave Carmy in the fridge without really caring about his health as a doctor. Does this mean she came back like Sydney did? There always seem to be mirroring going on.

(We also have Ted Fak saying that everyone else is good with Claire except Carmy in the Next episode.)

The timeline is very confusing to me. If Claire came back briefly, then they could’ve set up the dinner date potentially. I went to check on Claire’s text messages because it would make sense to see what messages were previously exchanged between them.

@fresaton, you mentioned that the dinner happened on 05-30-23, I personally couldn’t see a date to the texts but I read the messages as much I could and their last exchange (from what we know) is about friends and family. There’s also the fact that I have no clue when this scene exactly happened. This would have to be after the “dinner” scene right?

We see Carmy on the train and walking (fairly similar to how season three ended) while Claire takes off her makeup and cuddles with Kelly. Between that is Sydney apologizing to Marcus on the phone about his mother and Mikey asking about the restaurant idea Carmy has.

All of this to say, if there was a dinner between them then Claire and Carmy probably would’ve had to see each other physically before meeting for dinner.

The Hauntings Of The Berzatto Siblings

Before preparing themselves for the Christmas dinner and Donna, the Berzatto siblings are out sharing a cigarette before going into the chaos.

In previous metas, I’ve discussed how Claire and Carmy’s relationship always goes back to Fishes.

Now after @whenmemorydies and @fresaton’s metas, We’re going to look at the weird connections between them with cigarettes.

In the first installment of this meta, I noticed that Mikey goes outside and Richie notices it. I thought it had alluded to Claire finding out about The Bear because Carmy sees her outside on Christmas night.

I already talked about how Richie is a fox and a caterpillar who potentially slipped the prayer card into Carmy’s pocket like Natalie did with the money. Not to mention, Richie also witnessed the Berzatto siblings smoking outside of the house before going back inside.

Richie: “Yo! Is this some family shit I should know about?” (2x06)

Carmy apologized to Richie and said he loved him before squashing a cigarette. The only time we've seen Carmy actually smoke for season three was on Christmas night where the moment between Carmy and Claire took place and when they share a cigarette together.

In my dissertation about Claire, I also found some interesting dialogue between Richie and Mikey about their morning after story. This was after Mikey came back from being outside.

Mikey: “Things are really starting to spiral out of fucking control.” Richie: “Oh, we are past the point of no return.” Mikey: “It’s not good. And now it’s the next morning right? We’re like fucking rocked.” Richie: “Rocked!” Mikey: “Like, I look over at him, I’m like, well Jesus fucking Christ, man.” Richie: “I’m looking at you and I don’t even recognize you at that point.” Mikey: “It’s like a monster.” Richie: “Yeah, cause you look like a fucking monster. Couldn’t even tell it was you.”

I had said this could be connected to s3 Carmy before the season aired. Carmy wasn’t very recognizable this season some would argue.

What if Mikey's haunting was The Beef and The Bear? He actively cut Carmy off when Carmy wanted to be apart of the family establishment. It gets even worse when you think on the jealously and resentment for Carmy being able to dream when Mikey couldn’t. Did Mikey tell Claire about The Bear in rebellion like Carmy did with the meal?

Did Carmy find out and that’s why he’s avoiding Mikey’s presence?

He, instead, wants to show what The Bear is capable of by subtracting and pushing. Is Mikey haunting the people around Carmy to get through to him? Mikey is sort of known for subtracting Carmy out of his life but pushes him when he thinks something is good for him.

Claire is also known for her pushing type of personality that caused her to become a very controversial character on the show.

For Natalie’s hauntings, it’s very interesting because we don’t actually see her smoke the cigarette before it jump cuts to Mikey smoking the cigarette. I’d assume Donna and Mikey are a major role in hers.

There was a connection I made to Natalie, Claire, Donna, and Carmy earlier.

Although, I also found parallels between Sydney and Natalie. Donna talks about a dream she had about a fish tank and when she woke up, her water broke (Natalie was born.)

I immediately had the idea that Natalie is a fish like Sydney. It feels speculative but something could be there. One thing I do know for sure though is that we don’t see Natalie or Sydney smoking the cigarette in their hands. It automatically cuts before we witness them smoking at all.

I’ve also talked about the parallel between Sydney, Luca, Claire, and Carmy. They both have best friend dialogue and a cigarette moment it seems.

For Carmy’s hauntings, it could be a whole combination of people and things, honestly. The Beef, The Bear, Chef David, Mikey, Claire, Sydney, Marcus, etc.

I’ve mentioned before that Carmy is the magician and Claire is the illusion but for the sake of my sanity, I’m not talking about that here. This is already getting far longer than I intended.

I had a brief theory about how the cigarettes could be representative of reality and avoidance for season three.

I talked about this with @thoughtfulchaos773 but I just haven’t gotten further into this yet. Although, I now might have a different theory on that. The Faks are involved in this too but I’m focused on The Berzattos at the moment. Maybe I’ll get into them later.

I have like two metas that I’ve been working on that’s a bit similar to this one as well. I just got consumed with this one very quickly.

On the topic of The Faks, @currymanganese has a meta on The Faks being Claire’s henchmen!

I’m also linking @whenmemorydies’s recent meta on Carmy, Natalie, and the Berzattos. I haven’t read it in its entirety but it could be similar to mine!

As always thank you so much for reading!! As I said before, this felt very speculative on my part. Maybe I'll make another meta to elaborate on everything. I hope this all made sense! Notice how I said in the beginning that this won’t be an overall long post? You could definitely tell I wasn’t planning all of this lmao. Oh well!

[cosmicisms]

alhaitham being whipped for his lover

sfw

gn!reader

a/n: love you alhaitham but you’ve been temporarily benched for a twink magician. sorry! also idk what the format of this post is like, i just threw words together without much thought.

alhaitham who had no want or need for romance before meeting you.

panics upon getting to know you more because he can sense something is wrong.

he’s very in tune with his own emotions and thoughts, so right off the bat, he knows that you’re making him feel some type of way.

poor guy, you’ve made him doubt everything he ever knew about himself.

you’d never realise it, though.

even when you greeted him with your happy smile, placing the hot coffee on his desk, he simply nods and politely thanks you.

oh god, but if you could peek into his mind. panic.

he’d usher you out of his office, claiming that you’re distracting him from the files he must attend to, even though you’re pretty sure he’s asked you out to lunch many a time during his work hours. hm…

after a while he caves, tired of denying his own feelings.

as mentioned earlier, he’s very in tune with his own thoughts. he’s not going to hide from them forever.

having approached you with his confession laid out neatly in his mind, alhaitham is rendered speechless as he’s met with that same feeling of desire he always felt around you.

except now it was more intense, blooming within him and causing him to belt out his confession in a rather strange way.

you could’ve sworn he was lecturing you, judging by the way he spoke.

after you processed his words, you accepted and returned his confession with that same sweet smile he adored.

and here you two are now. a happy couple. all according to alhaitham’s strategic plan that he definitely did not spend hours upon hours perfecting and agonising over.

now, having alhaitham as your boyfriend comes with a lot of things.

first of all, his love languages are quality time and acts of service.

even you being in the room with him while he works is enough for him. bonus points if you sit on his lap while he reads.

speaking of work, do you need help with yours? alhaitham’s a scholar, well versed in many fields. have a report you’re dreading to write up? alhaitham will try his best to help, lending you resources and giving you pointers along the way.

also he’s a touchy guy. not in the sense that he’s emotional, i mean he’s a cuddlebug.

loves to touch you in any sort of way. interpret that however you like, but i’m talking about linked pinkies while walking through sumeru city, fingers gently caring through your hair while he reads, and throwing his leg over you while you both sleep.

“i’m clingy? not at all, i simply want to keep you in my sights lest you get into any trouble. what’s that? i’m in denial? hm… then i will refrain from touching you. no, no, you’ve lost your chances now, darling.”

pet names are another thing. he doesn’t really use em. maybe the occasional “darling” or “dear” now and then, but most of the time, he’ll address you by your name.

but the way he does it still has you blushing all the same.

he likes seeing you wearing his clothes. at first, he was confused, however.

“i don’t understand. you have your own clothes that are perfectly suitable, and yet you wear mine anyways? …alright, then.”

yep, he secretly loves it. will melt upon seeing you wrapped up in his cape, his cheeks tainted with pink.

not the biggest sappy romantic, if i’m being honest. how would’ve thought, right?

he’ll cook something for you both and have a nice dinner in the privacy of his home (having kicked kaveh out for the night).

doesn’t enjoy dates out and about, but will gladly take you to the quieter spots of the city. maybe the library for a nice reading date, the two of you cuddled together in a corner with a book each.

…though, his attention is definitely focused on you, rather than the text in his hand.

will literally do anything for you. yeah, he might tease you a little for it, but he won’t hesitate.

alhaitham’s always been sure of himself. whether people thought he was arrogant or just that self-confident, he didn’t really care either way.

but for you? oh, for you…

he loves you. he could never deny that.

“you are the only one who could ever make me feel this way. i love you, y/n. let’s stay together for a long time. dare i say forever?”

[bellezaycafe]

Get Your Shit Together - Extra; a section of a DTS Episode.

Masterlist | Part 1

genre: 2024 Season AU

pairing: there will be romance but I haven't finalised who yet. platonic! oc x literally the whole grid.

warnings: lots swearing, major car accident, mentions of broken bones, blood and hospitals. A lot of shit happens.

context: Sadie, a 20 year old university student from Melbourne, decided to take a gap year and volunteer at 2 Formula One races in different countries.

Sadie's Faceclaim: Maia Mitchell (but you can visualise her however you want :) )

comments: READ CHAPTER FOUR BEFORE READING THIS. This is an extra and is not actually thaaaat vital to the story. I just know if this happened irl, DTS would 100% make an entire episode on it. This is gonna be so strange to write because DTS is a visual format but imma try for the cool perspective. You’re gonna need a good imagination.

*Drive to Survive theme and intro*

WILL BUXTON: Silverstone, the home of formula one.

LANDO NORRIS: It’s one of my favourite tracks, I love the support we get there.

BUXTON: Our hearts were in our mouths, in 2024. The title fight was ramping up!

CHARLES LECLERC: It was close.

CARLOS SAINZ: We were fighting, but it was horrific race.

BUXTON: It ended in shambles.

OSCAR PIASTRI: I mean, I was out in lap, 5 I think, it might’ve been 6.

BUXTON: No one expected five DNF’s.

LEWIS HAMILTON: I don’t know how it happened.

BUXTON: Let alone Lando’s accident.

NORRIS: I don’t remember much.

BUXTON: or the Mystery Medic.

*dramatic pause*

BUXTON: It was incredible, in a morbid way.

NORRIS: I was panicking

*onboard footage of moments after the crash, with radio subtitles*

NORRIS *onboard radio*: MY ANKLE, **** MY FOOT!

BUXTON: First, they catch Lando as he falls from the halo. He is in pain, and at one point you can hear him scream.

*onboard footage of the Mystery Medic catching Lando as he falls from the halo*

NORRIS: I knew it was my ankle or my foot. I’d never been in so much pain.

BUXTON: The medic starts to, essentially drag, Lando towards a safe section of the barrier. We could see that it was bad. We could see how much was relying on them and leaning on them, considering that he was taller than the medic.

PIASTRI: We could see that he wasn’t even letting it touch the ground.

NORRIS: “Keep it off the ground,” they told me. They didn’t have to, I was in too much pain anyway.

BUXTON: Then Sergio Perez approaches the accident.

TOTO WOLFF: There was debris everywhere, McLaren and Mercedes.

SERGIO PEREZ: I still do not know how I did not see it.

NORRIS: I didn’t know until I was on a stretcher.

BUXTON: You can see, if you watch the replay you can see, the moment the Mystery Medic hears Checo’s car.

*footage of the Mystery Medic turning their head towards the track*

BUXTON: Put the moment into slow motion, and you can see them make the choice.

*footage of the Mystery Medic putting both hands on Lando’s waist and switching to his right side*

BUXTON: To put yourself between a driver and a Formula One car? That’s either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.

HAMILTON: Brave.

WOLFF: Stupid.

BUXTON: Either way, I don’t think Drive to Survive can show what happened.

*footage of Perez’s Red Bull striking black and papaya debris*

BUXTON: The medic barely stumbled.

NORRIS: If I hadn’t have seen it afterwards, I wouldn’t have known. I don’t remember it happening.

BUXTON: It was horrifying! They were walking, and almost carrying Lando, with a piece of debris in their thigh.

NORRIS: I’ve watched the replay. It was headed straight for me.

BUXTON: Watching it live was… it was awful! But you couldn’t look away.

*footage of everyone in the McLaren garage watching screens with various expressions of terror*

BUXTON: You had to know if they were going to make it.

NORRIS: They saved my life. Racing is my life, and if that debris had hit my leg? We don’t know what damage it could have done.

BUXTON: But there’s a reason we call them the Mystery Medic, and it may be a feat just as incredible. They did the impossible.

*seperate shots of Sir Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen placed side by side*

BUXTON: Lewis and Max worked together. They put their rivalry aside and worked together to keep the Mystery Medic a secret and we have no idea why.

MAX VERSTAPPEN and HAMILTON *in unison*: I’m not going to comment on that.

BUXTON: We don’t know their name. We don’t know who they are, where they’re from, or how they’re doing now.

*another dramatic pause*

BUXTON: It’s like they never existed.

[kranagok0]

Hilda, The horror in The woods

Are you ready for more of Hilda and her friends being the Jujutsu Kaisen?…

A shame, because I'm still doing Astrid's abilities and I just discovered that there was already someone else with that idea of Hilda and Jujutsu Kaisen before me, so I'm trying to improve some aspects of the characters. Leaving that aside, something occurred to me regarding an image I found on my Facebook.

The story is about Hilda, obviously, and her life in the cabin with her mother. The thing here is about living only with his mother, his aunt Astrid and his father (Who rarely visited, if not almost never). The lack of social interaction did not stop Hilda from learning to speak correctly, but it did stop her from communicating like any other normal child.

Such a wild and solitary life (in addition to her family, but they did not often go with her on her adventures) made little Hilda grow up with a somewhat… Unstable mentality.

You see, Hilda didn't understand what was normal for someone her age, neither did Johana (let's give credit to Aunt Astrid for erasing memories as if it were something that could be formatted as if it were nothing) and why Anders and Astrid didn't visit very often. Hilda began to develop somewhat strange and grotesque tastes.

It all started a few weeks of meeting her best friend Twig, that little Deer-fox and his way of acting were also a key factor in Hilda's growth.

Hilda had gotten lost (all because of a sudden storm that no one could have predicted) and was swept beyond the stone circle. She didn't know where she was, but she was still grateful to have her best friend Twig with her.

The days passed and Hilda was hungry. He had survived for a while on the provisions his mother had given him and also some berries he found along the way. Despite that, the girl was still hungry. It was then that he asked his friend Twig to eat something, she was hungry and wanted some too. Hilda let out a scream of horror when she saw what her friend was chewing.

Twig had wild instincts and too much energy for a small fawn (more or less I call it that because… What do you call a baby fox deer?) of his age, making him more prone to attack other small animals. to eat them. At first this scared Hilda, but as the days went by, and with the little plant-based food that was around, she began to adapt to her friend's behavior. He even started to want to try some of that meat that Twig also ate.

Being so curious about Twig's strange dynamic, Hilda tried to do the same as her little friend.

Hilda's curiosity turned into something a little more obsessive and bizarre, to the point of wanting to try what her friend was nibbling on day after day. Hilda had never tasted the meat of… Nothing. She literally only ate plant-based things and nothing else, or not as far as her little 6-year-old mind could understand. That's why when he tasted the meat of that little dying rabbit he never thought it would taste so horrible. It felt strange to chew the rabbit's leg and even more so with all that dirty fur from the chase.

Still, Hilda took another bite.

and then another

And one more

One more

And more

Further

Much more

At some point Twig stepped aside and let Hilda eat the rest of the rabbit for herself. After all, she was like his older sister. He was the alpha.

And when the alpha is hungry he must hunt.

At first they couldn't even catch a single fish out of the water, much less any hare or rabbit they encountered on their way home. Over time he continued to learn from his friend and the other animals, trying to imitate their movements and predict what they were going to do. The problem was that Hilda's body was not that of a wild animal, she could understand the movement of muscles and tendons inside her friend Twig's skin, the movement of fish, the jumps of rabbits, she could even predict when a feather would fall off a bird and how many flaps of its wings would it take… But I couldn't imitate those movements, because Hilda was human.

Fortunately everything has a solution. She just had to move like a human. Like a human hunter. Luckily he had his good friend Woodman to tell him everything he needed to know about human hunters.

Woodman was someone who didn't care what other people did. However, even he knew that what Hilda was doing was too scary and morbid to tell her what to do. He was not going to risk that one day she would use those methods against him, so he gave her some fairy tales where there were harmless hunters, like Snow White and the Dwarves, or Little Red Riding Hood, he even gave her one where there were like 7 little lambs and a mother goat (to be honest, Woodman only had those stories because he could take them and run with them. He really wasn't interested in reading all the content)

While Woodman thought the books would calm Hilda down a bit about the whole hunting, skinning, and eating of woodland animals, Hilda saw a pattern in each story: An axe.

'so human hunters use axes. Excellent'

Hilda, in some way that I still can't figure out, got an axe. It was heavy, but it served its purpose. Hilda already wanted to develop her hunting skills like a true human hunter.

His first prey: a red wolf.

Surprisingly, the attack was fast and accurate, the wolf could never have seen a girl coming with a large ax from the top of the trees… The wolf's back was destroyed as Hilda used the blunt part. It was his first time using an axe, not knowing how to handle it correctly caused him to hit with the wrong side. Still, it was enough to immobilize the wolf.

The wolf still tried to defend himself, despite having his spine shattered, his adrenaline did not go down a bit. The wolf, still with its front legs at its disposal, crawled up to bite Hilda.

It didn't take long for Hilda to counterattack and hit the wolf several times in its skull. The sounds reasoned throughout the grove and spots splashed back and forth with each impact of the ax on the wolf's head.

After a while Hilda had managed to make the wolf unrecognizable: Its skull was sunken, fragments of the bones protruded from that amorphous mass that was previously the skin and muscle of the beast, not to mention how the poor man's eyes were left animal.

Like any good hunter, Hilda takes a part of the wolf and feeds, chewing and swallowing like any wild animal would… Still, she uses cutlery as her mother had always told her (manners are something essential in life, a one of the few things that Johana remembered and that were not erased like memories. At least Astrid didn't format everything)

When Hilda was 11 years old she had extensive experience hunting all kinds of creatures: rabbits, moles, hares, foxes (it was a difficult subject for her and Twig, but in the end they didn't give it much thought and they ate it), turtles, fish of all kinds, insects, deer (oddly enough there was no problem with Twig at that point), and many more creatures. The only ones Hilda didn't eat were those who seemed to have some intellect, she liked to converse as much as she could with others. I felt this need to share this information whether the person in question wanted to or not.

Hilda achieved a lot at her young age. I even developed somewhat disturbing techniques that other children (and even adults) could never achieve.

Hilda has never hunted beings with any intelligence…. But, if the opportunity arises, perhaps she could consider it.

It should be noted that Hilda is mentally unstable due to the situations she has had to face alone every time she went on adventures with Twig. There were times when he almost died from bleeding, severe bruises and even poisoning. Hilda has survived all that and more at her young age, and with it she has developed a need to learn about everything that surrounds her. Stalking, watching, observing, hunting.

~~

And that's it, because I don't have anything else. I just wanted to do this to get it out of my head.

Thinking of Hilda as something more than a good, kind and empathetic girl is something I wanted to investigate because it is impossible for someone to be like that if she only lives with her mother in the middle of a mess in the middle of nowhere. Some kind of mental illness had to have arisen at that point in his life, especially when he was always going on dangerous adventures where literally any dangerous animal could jump out of a bush and take his life.

I liked thinking that Hilda could defend herself if something like this happened. And then I found that image; a psychotic Hilda, full of blood and with mental stability quite out of place. Thinking about how his actions are reflected by his changing and unstable emotional state was something that inspired me to write all this, partly because I was also curious to know what you guys thought.

I would like to hear your comments, or in this case read them. Seriously, I would like to know if they also thought at some point that Hilda would have a seinen mode or if they enjoy a less bloody and violent version of the blue-haired girl more.

Well, we're running out of paragraphs, so I'll say goodbye. See you later

[cerastes]

hey drimo, with the RA2 monthly update having dropped I figured it was high time to go build up my Forward Camp a bit for the Warfare monthly maps - do you have any advice on how to create a proper torment nexus in the Forward Camp? 

My first inclination had been to just recreate what I made in RA1 (winding labyrinth with lots of net launchers, gas launchers and a narrow kill lane), but IDK if that will work out and the resource outlay for a properly built up torment nexus IS pretty huge even with all the extra ways to get stuff in RA2

(sent by @the-cornuthaum​)

Recreating an RA1 format base is indeed a good long term goal in my opinion, but as you said, it’s a resource intensive matter, particularly because it takes literal thousands of Stone -- Lighting Ore is really not an issue if you do a lot of Strange Territories -- to make all those ideal Urban Barriers III.

Personally, I would start with making a simple kill lane and building outwards from there, probably with a loop being the next thing after the kill lane. Cover your Campervan with Urbans, then choose a direction and make your lane there, and then stretch to either side of preference and make a basic loop surrounding 3-4 Battlements. This is highly informed by my own preferences and player expression, mind you, because I love radial range units -- Lin, Gnosis, Arturia -- and it tends to be how I start, but, of course, I think you need to adjust your layout to your own preferences.

I know most people don’t share my playstyle -- radial units close up, very long range artillery blasting those tiles while the radials damage/crowd control, like Horn, Firewhistle, Fiammetta, Ray, W -- so instead of a loop, you can do a zigzag funnel with Battlement ‘alcoves’, extending all the way to one of the enemy spawns with a single opening so all enemy spawns have to enter through there. I’m at work so bear with my MS Paint skills here but I think a small visual representation can help:

Basic, low resource kill lane. Greys are Urbans, browns are Battlements. The Battlement directly on the enemy route near the Campervan is intentional because a good kill lane will not have to worry about them reaching there in the first place. You can comfortably put several Battlements on the Battlement side, like rows of 2-3 per line, depending on your needs, and long range bombardment like Fortresses behind them. The straight line Battlement is good for Ifrit/Corroseum, Ray, Fartooth, Schwarz, any straight line killer of your choice. Apply Cursed Mire as needed, but keep in mind a Cursed Mire tile is a tile you don’t get to deploy Melee units on, so leave a gap here and there if you want to put an Ambusher like Manticore here and there. Your straight line Battlement can also be under the entrance, but do mind ranged enemies.

From there, you can extend like this for a funnel, like so,

Do zigzag alcoves like this, 

or make a simple loop like this

Added a red line to show you how the enemy pathing would go; you can add more Battlements to the empty space down there in the loop.

Then, with a few more blocks, you can create this Purple Zone above the loop, which is where I would put all sorts of goodies like Net Launchers or long range artillery Battlements, aimed towards the loop.

This is already a potent set up for a base, you don’t need to occupy all of your space, simply make good use of little space to get started. From here, you really can build absolutely anything you want and start dressing it as you see fit, but as a starter, powerful set up, this is what I recommend.

[harley-sunday]

Champagne Supernova

Summary: You literally stumble into Charles Leclerc one evening and somehow end up with custody over his tuxedo jacket? Weird. Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader [f] Warnings: None Word count: 2.7k AN: Sometimes an idea just *mimics explosion with hand* pops up all of a sudden and won't go away until you write it down (I mean, I was literally in bed already but…). So here we are  Also, written on mobile (eL, don't @ me) so apologies in advance for shitty formatting and for not editing. Also², I live for validation so comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! That is, if you like it, of course :)

It’s warm inside the ballroom of the hotel you’re in and so you’re trying to fan yourself with a copy of tonight’s program because now that the formal part of the evening is over it really doesn’t serve any use anymore other than to help you cool down. You’re standing in the corner of the room, close to the bar, observing the crowd - Monaco’s elite; a strange mix of old money and self made millionaires that have come together for tonight’s fundraiser.

You don’t belong to either of those groups but instead are here because the PR agency you work for somehow got selected to promote the event. It meant a lot of overtime in the past two months for the entire team and so your bosses - Olivier and Claire, a happily married couple with two kids, a dog, and a perfect work-life balance (of course) - promised you and your colleagues a seat at one of the tables and thus an open bar for the evening very early on in the process to make up for all the early mornings and late nights. 

Dinner was a drawn out affair with seven small courses, entirely too much red wine, and a slightly boring silent auction reveal that took way too long for your liking. The promise of an after-party kept you from leaving early but it’s Monaco, it’s rich people, and so you could and should have known that their idea of an after-party is more champagne, bragging about who paid what despite it being a silent auction, and a guy with a comb-over and an ill-fitting tuxedo playing the piano, dragging out “Les Lacs du Connemara” way beyond the six minutes the song usually takes.

Next to you, Olivier and Claire are having a small domestic because Claire, slightly intoxicated, wants to stay but Olivier, scarily sober, has promised the babysitter they’d be back before one. Your other two colleagues are trying to persuade (read: threaten) the piano guy into playing “Sweet Caroline”, and you are feeling more miserable by the minute - one of your shoulder straps keeps sliding down, there’s a headache coming on, and your feet hurt like crazy in the stilettos you had no time to break in, so to say you are over it and ready to go home would be an understatement.

You wait for a lul in Olivier and Claire’s argument before you turn to them and tell them, “I’m heading out, ok? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Olivier nods but Claire starts to protest and grabs your wrist, “Babe. Stay.”

You shake your head and try to free your hand but Claire doesn’t let go. Looking at Olivier for help you tug again but her fingers remain deadlocked around your wrist and you know it’s because she’s drunk and wants someone in her corner when Olivier decides to stand his ground and make her go home in about five minutes or so, but it is annoying as fuck and so you pull a little harder and start to walk away. “Claire,” you warn her, “let go.”

She still doesn’t.

Until all of a sudden she does and it makes you stumble forward and bump into someone and then everything seems to happen at once - you flail your arms trying not to topple over, reaching out for something- Anything you can hold onto. It’s the arm of the guy you bumped into but as you steady yourself against him he loses control of the drink he’s holding, a quiet, “Oh, merde,” your only warning before-

“Holy shit, that’s cold!” You jump backwards in shock, fingers plucking at the fabric of your dress as you try to stop the liquid from dripping down in between your boobs while quietly cursing your best friend who made you wear this stupid dress with its stupid plunging neckline in the first place. The fabric is already clinging to your skin, your chest and stomach absolutely soaked and you look around for an easy exit, first to the toilets maybe, to save yourself from the horrified looks around you and any further embarrassment but then you see a stack of white napkins appear in your field of vision and before you know it you are being pat down by the man who’s drink you’re now wearing.

“I am so sorry,” he mumbles while trying to dry your dress but the napkins are white and your dress is black and so all it does is leave a trace of little pieces of fluff all over your stomach but before you have a chance to say anything he’s grabbed a new stack of napkins and goes for your chest-

“Stop! Stop, stop, stop.” You shake your head and take the napkins from him, gently pushing his hands back with a smile, “I got this.”

“Shit, sorry.” He runs a hand through his hair and is blushing like crazy, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” you tell him as you’re blotting yourself now. “I mean, I’m the one who bumped into you, right?” The napkins really aren’t helping and so you give up with a frustrated sigh, looking up for the first time then, letting out a quiet, “Oh,” when you see the man standing in front of you. Jesus Christ, he’s hot. And apparently still upset because he stares at you with his beautiful green eyes as if he wants the ground to swallow him whole. Even though you’re the one who could enter, and maybe even win, a wet t-shirt contest this very second which you think is ten times more embarrassing. 

“Let me at least do something to help,” he tries, reaching out his hands to you again but then thinking better of it. “Really. Anything. I mean, I will pay for the dress of course, but-”

He seems so flustered that you can’t help yourself, “Well, considering you almost went to second base just now-” you say with a wide smile and a pointed look between his hands and your chest, “-it would be nice to at least know your name.”

This makes him chuckle and earns you a smile in return, “I’m Charles.”

“Nice to meet you, Charles,” you say, meaning every word of it, and then introduce yourself. When you lick your lips you taste the champagne he spilled on you and can’t help but laugh, “What a waste of that Veuve Clicquot, though, huh?”

“I’m more worried about your dress, to be honest,” he counters with a grin.

“What? This old thing?” You motion for him to come forward and when he does you put your mouth close to his ear and whisper, “Between you and me, I think the champagne was more expensive.”

He chuckles again when you pull back and you can’t help but fall for him a little, the way he scrunches his nose something so- Adorable? Hot? You’re not sure. Either way, you want to see more of it, you decide. Charles still looks as if he’s ready to go into purgatory and so somehow you’re not really surprised when he tries again, “I mean it though. Anything I can do to make up for this.”

You look around then and even though most of the crowd has gone back to their smalltalk there are still some curious onlookers that seem way too invested in this, making you feel very exposed all of a sudden, and so, well, if he insists… “Maybe you could lend me your jacket for a hot sec and escort me out of here?”

“Of course,” he replies, already taking his tuxedo jacket off. He hesitates for a second but then drapes it over your shoulders anyway, “There.”

Instead of a ‘thank you’, a distracted, “Uhu,” comes out because it’s only now, when you see the way the white dress shirt is stretched across his arms and chest, that you see how muscular he is. He’s- Not broad but definitely athletic and you wonder what kind of sport he’s into. Before you have a chance to ask though he’s absentmindedly rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and you can feel your mouth go a little dry at the sight of his tanned, veiny forearms and hands. A fleeting thought of just how much you could make him apologize with those long fingers gets quickly pushed back when he holds out his arm for you to loop yours through.

“Come on,” he says and nods towards the exit. “Let’s get out of here.” He guides you through the room with ease and doesn’t stop when you reach the foyer, instead making you follow him outside where he nods at the valet.

“I didn’t drive here,” you start, because somehow you figured it’s your car he wants them to get.

“I know. Well-” he chuckles then, “-I don’t actually, but I’m making him get my car so I can drive you home. Or your hotel. I mean, I don’t want to assume-”

“Home,” you quickly reassure him. This time you remember your words and your manners, “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do.” He leads you down the front steps when the valet pulls up with his car, a black Ferrari Pista Spider that you can’t help but silently admire, and doesn’t let go of you until you’ve reached the car and he’s opened the door for you.

You try to keep the wet part of your dress from touching anything inside the car as best as you can, offering a quiet, “Sorry,” when Charles slides into his seat.

He tuts, “Don’t worry about the car, ma chérie." 

And, oh- That’s- Nice. And a complete one eighty from how flustered he was mere minutes ago. Huh. Interesting.

If he does notice you clearing your throat to distract yourself, he’s kind enough not to mention it. Instead he starts the car, the engine absolutely purring to life, and turns to you with a grin, "Where am I taking you?”

Right here and right now please, you almost say, but you don’t think that’s what he meant and so instead you tell him, “Take a left at the stoplights and then a right at the next.”

As you guide him through the streets of Monaco you find out he’s an F1 driver with Ferrari who was actually born and raised in Monaco. He tells you how he’s on a three-week summer break until the end of August when the second half of the season starts with a race in Belgium. In return you tell him how you moved here three years ago when, after college, you got offered a job by Claire and Olivier.

All too soon, because sometimes Monaco really is nothing more than just a small town on the French Riviera, he pulls up in front of your house with an almost apologetic smile, “Here we are.”

“Here we are,” you echo with a nod. It’s silent for a moment before you decide to just put yourself out there, something about doing it now or forever wishing you had, “Would you like to come in? I could get changed and give you your jacket back? You might want to wash it though, I think there’s some wine- It probably needs to go to the dry cleaner’s, right? I don’t think it can go in the washing machine-” You hear yourself starting to ramble and so you close your eyes for a second and try again, “What I meant was: Would you like to come in for a drink?”

“I would love to but- I can’t,” he says and there’s something about him that makes you believe he’s telling the truth and that he’s sorry about it. “I have some auctioned pieces I still need to sign and I have to take a photo with the highest bidder in-” he looks at his watch and lets out a humorless laugh, “-ten minutes.”

“That sucks,” you tell him because apparently you’re now just speaking your mind without being eloquent about it.

He nods slowly, “It kind of does.”

Oh. Ok.

“Take the jacket,” he says then, “I can come pick it up later.”

Wait. What?

“Later tonight, or?”

He shakes his head, “No. Later as in, next week or something.”

“Oh, ok, yeah, that’s- Yeah, makes sense.” No need to stumble over your words, you think, you took your chances and it didn’t work out. It’s fine. It’s just that the 'or something’ kind of hurts.

He must see the disappointment on your face because he quickly adds, “I mean, so I can see you again. Later. When I’m not in a rush and you’re not covered in champagne.”

You can’t help but laugh, your mind once again too quick for your own good, “Who says I won’t be?” You let the words hang in the air with a raised eyebrow and it takes a few heartbeats but then Charles laughs as well, a burst of laughter that you want to hear again and again. You grin at him, “What?”

“You are something else,” he says, shaking his head. He reaches for his phone then, unlocks it, and hands it to you, “If you add your number I could maybe call or text you?” There’s a shy smile playing on his lips then, “About the jacket, I mean.”

“Are you sure you don’t want it back now?”

“No, that’s ok. My brothers are at the party as well. I can just take one of theirs.”

“Sure?” You try one last time.

“Sure.”

“Ok.” Your fingers fly over his screen then, adding yourself to his contacts before you hand him the phone back. Locked. A wicked grin on your lips, “Let’s see if you remember my name- Later.”

“Oh, I will.”

“Good.” You lean over the center console then and press a kiss to his cheek, “I’ll be seeing you then.”

“You will,” he says with a bad attempt at a wink, which so far seems his only flaw.

“Thank you for driving me home,” you say as you climb out of the car while trying not to flash anyone even though there’s no one around. A kind smile then as you close the door, “Drive safe.”

“Always.” He gives you a quick wave and then he’s off, the rumble of the engine echoing through the almost empty streets of the city.

***

He doesn’t call. Or text. And so his jacket moves from your living room, where it was draped over a chair for the first three weeks, to the guest bedroom slash your home office, this time draped over your office chair. Every now and then you catch a hint of his cologne  and so you still aren’t able to really forget about him.

At the beginning of November you’ve come to terms with the fact that you’ll probably won’t see him again, that you probably made a bigger deal out of it than it was, that he probably doesn’t even remember you - your name just another girl added to his contacts because he was simply trying to be nice - and so at some point you move the jacket to inside the closet in the guest bedroom, telling yourself that the only reason you won’t throw it away is because it’s Armani and expensive as fuck. 

You’d like to say you’ve forgotten about both the jacket and Charles once December rolls around but that would be a lie. You’ve actually started to follow the remainder of the F1 season and saw him come second in the World Driver Championship. A warm feeling settling somewhere inside your chest whenever you see him getting doused in champagne by his teammates or rivals, taking you back to the night you met. 

He’s been on your mind more than ever and when your phone rings one night, an unknown, private number calling you, you somehow know it’s him and so you answer with a cheeky, “The jacket you are trying to reach is no longer available. Please try again later.”

He lets out a laugh, that same laugh you drew from him in his car all those months ago, and it’s like no time has passed at all. “Salut, ma chérie, I’m sorry for not calling any sooner but-”

“Don’t try to sweet talk your way back into our lives, Leclerc,” you say as you take another bite of the apple you were eating.

“Our?”

“The jacket’s and mine,” you reply. “We are doing quite well for ourselves.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Is that so?”

You nod even though he can’t see you, “Yeah.”

“I’d like to come see that for myself.”

“Hmmm,” you draw out. “We might be able to arrange a supervised visit. When would you-”

Your doorbell rings then and you hear it both in your house and echo through your phone and- Oh. Shit.

Charles chuckles in your ear, “Now?”

===

AN: I am so sorry for this very unsatisfying open ending. It was the best I could do for now... *sends hugs to those affected*