#gnome reserve

[travelling-my-little-pony]

Night Glider is wandering around the Gnome Rescerve!

In Woolfardisworthy, near Bideford, in Devon, England.

#my little pony #g1 #night glider #gnomes #gnome reserve #woolfardisworthy #devon #england

[aeide-thea]

tfw a song you really love is wrong for yr voice except it's about a model of birkenstock :(

#(i reserve the right 2 decide i was wrong and i actually CAN pull off gnome chic but. initial findings dubious) #(SO few models of shoe are both genuinely unisex and also beloved of menswear mags/blogs/etc everywhere just let me have this one win :( ) #like technically i got a sort of Adventure Slipper on super sale a bit ago that sort of covers the same ground & is a little more gorpcore #so maybe i should just be contented with that bc like. #how many 'dude no one will ever want to fuck you if they see you in those' shoes does a person really need #but i've been Yearning for so long i was gonna be nice 2 myself… #also like. birk soles feel so nice :( #like a hug 4 ur feet :( #(anyway yes this is SUCH a stupid post but like. what is a blog 4 if not 'being dramatic abt minor nonsense') #journaling #mundanities

[wonderfulwonderrful]

The Lonely Hearts Party

Fluff | Toto x reader fem!mercemployee

Summary: You have been receiving the most gorgeous flowers at your desk every Wednesday morning for weeks now as a mysterious admirer seems to be in love with you. The entire factory, your besties at work, and you all wonder who he is. Could it be the one you truly wish for? Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader Mercedes employee. Genre: Fluff and romance. Author's note: This is a Toto x Reader fanfic set at the Brackley Headquarters on Valentine's Day. Happy Valentine's Day to all of you! Send you lots of love. Masterlist > My Toto Woff fics

The most beautiful flowers have been arriving at your desk every Wednesday morning for almost a month now. Every week, as you reach your office in the early hours, they are already in place to welcome you. 

You love smelling them; they are always fresh and sweet-scented, and you love to look at them even more.

You feel a rush of excitement to read the handwritten note that always comes attached, filled with a different poem paragraph each time, something along the lines of "She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that's best of dark and bright."

Every girl in your department finds it so romantic, the mysterious admirer, but you and your besties at work, Rose and Oliver, who work in the same station that you, joke about finding it a bit creepy. 

"The Creepy Flower Guy" is a nickname you came up with to refer to him as an inside joke, being the three of you true crime enthusiasts.

—Maybe it's one of those garden gnomes HR placed outside —Oliver jokes as he finishes eating his scrambled eggs after you told them about the new Lilacs you received that morning at the breakfast quick break. —Perhaps he fell in love with you by watching you walk past —he jokes.

The hilarious idea of a tiny plastic guy sneaking into the headquarters, wearing his little red hat and fast feet to get incognito to your office, and on his tiptoes, placing the flowers on your desk makes you giggle.

You have to give it to HR this time; those gnomes were a great addition to the garden's pond; every time you sit on the benches near it, you enjoy the new scene the mechanics or engineers put together every few days, having fun moving the gnomes around or placing them in the funniest scenes, even someone during winter knitted them Christmas sweaters.

—Or maybe one day we'll find you dead on the floor, poisoned in your desk after inhaling azaleas for too long —Rose adds with the most casual tone as she bites her sandwich.

—Or you go missing! Kidnapped at the parking lot by "The Creep" —Oliver adds. 

—GUYS! —Ava turns around after overhearing the conversation; she is sitting at the same long table in the cafeteria, not getting your usual dark humor, a bit concerned, and creeped out. —You three need to cool it down with those goddamn crime podcasts!

—NEVER! —all of you answer at the same time.

—You freaks!

As you all finish breakfast, in a rush because the "off-season" is always the busiest time at the factory, you ask out loud. —Who do you think it is? 

—It's evident! It's... —Grace from the control room team starts saying.

—Lewis Hamilton! —and she finishes along with the other five people on the table now. 

Oh, the classic joke.

The entire table burst into laughter. It's a common joke to do about Lewis since almost every family member or friend thinks that working in the Mercedes racing team instantly makes you Lewis's best friend and that you always hang out with the guy, which couldn't be further away from reality. 

Most of you only see him in corporate gatherings or pass by from building to building, usually on his way to the simulator or in the hallways on a lucky day. 

He is always sweet and polite with the team and staff but quite distant; he still is Lewis fucking Hamilton. Unless you are part of his immediate team or Toto's, you get that privilege reserved for the key players only. 

Even so, almost everyone has a Lewis or Bottas story, and ALL of you have Niki's anecdotes cause that man is bonkers and a LEGEND. 

Most of them go hilarious as all of you try to act human around them, like the one Oliver has where he bumped into Lewis one day as Oliver was getting out of the bathroom and Lewis was on his way in, offering him a completely wet hand to introduce himself, which Hamilton noticed and sweetly and quickly patted Oliver on the shoulder with a "nice meeting you, man" and quickly got in.

—REAL theories only, guys! —you address the table. —Is my life a joke to you all? —you mess around, getting on your feet and closing the lid of your topper. —Please don't answer that.

-

Another week goes by, and a new stunning bouquet arrives. 

—Oh, how exquisite! That man is so into you. Those blue mophead hydrangeas sure are expensive! —the receptionist points out to you because you are a total flower ignorant who only goes: "Oh, pretty, colorful, smell cute" without giving it much thought. 

Most of the time, you have no idea what you are looking at, but you have fun googling it and trying to decipher; in your defense, no one has pampered you like this before. 

You are brand new at the getting flowers game.

-

The following week, a couple of bets start happening at the building as the word spreads, and many wonder who the mysterious guy is. 

Some think it's not a guy but a girl, as one day after a meeting, as you all are leaving, one of the engineers approaches you and makes the clever remark that the attention to detail about the type of flowers, the color palettes, and the scented notes is too much for a simple guy. —Either he is getting advised, or it's not a guy! Maybe you could obtain a reference from the company that delivers it.

This entire thing feels surreal and truly takes you by surprise since you have always considered yourself the most average girl, especially in looks and more so in the sea of beautiful blondes working at Mercedes.

Which, for some weird reason, reminded you of when you dropped your resume after one of your buddies from college - who still works there at the machine shop - gave you the heads up there was a job opening that suited you perfectly; he even had to insist you a couple of times, because you were almost sure they wouldn't give you a callback. 

To your eyes, Mercedes was one of those companies that cared about looks or looked for a specific ethnic type; it turns out you judged too soon; they care about skills, productivity, and professionalism, too, and it ended up being a bit more diverse than you expected the place to be.

It still has many areas for improvement, but it's become your favorite job ever.

-

By the end of the day, you wait for Rose to come out of her meeting to leave together, standing in the perfectly lit hallway leaning on the impeccable white wall; it's "Cheap Thursday" at your favorite local pub, and you two desperately need fuel to finish the heavy week, so nachos and a couple of pints sound like heaven.

After what feels like an eternity, a group of people comes out of the double doors by the end of the corridor facing you, and you catch a glimpse of a very hurried-up Toto getting out, too, looking handsome and elegant as ever.

You feel his dark eyes looking you up for the briefest moment, making you shiver and blush like a teenager in front of her crush.

Thank god he doesn't stop his pace and gets out of your view within seconds but leaves you distracted enough not to notice Rose approaching you till she is by your side, looking almost pale as a ghost, whispering in your ear. 

—I swear it's Toto's handwriting! I just saw him writing on the board for over an hour, and his calligraphy looks exactly like the one of "Creepy Flower Guy"!

—Come on?! Toto? Shut up! —a crackle comes out of your mouth, thinking it's the most ridiculous idea. —The billionaire smocking-hot boss falls in love with the average employee; what do you think this is? An 80s telenovela? Fuck off...

—Well, his handwriting is the same cursive style, and the "r" and "t" are almost identical —Rose starts to overexplain, trying to justify herself, looking timid and embarrassed now, and you instantly feel awful at your reaction.

—I'm so sorry, Rose, I overreacted; I tend to be too blunt! —you quickly wrap her into a hug.

—It's just that I have been seeing that calligraphy for a while now, and I found it freaky similar.

—Now, how can we make sure, Rose? Any ideas?

She shakes her head. —I'm not friends with his assistants or anyone on Toto's team.

—No one is friends with his assistants. I wouldn't be surprised if they turn out to be ex-MI5 agents or worked for the KGB —Rose starts to laugh hard, agreeing. —I think getting to the Prime Minister is easier than reaching Toto under their hands!

—You are screwed then. 

—Let's rule Toto out for the moment —you add.

—Yeah.

-

That night at your flat, a crazy thought comes to your mind as you brush your teeth; the wackiest thoughts tend to happen to you when you brush your teeth; you need to make yourself with a piece of paper handwritten by Toto to compare it with one of your notes.

You know Toto places sticky notes on the far wall inside his office; you have noticed those on your many and regular trips to the CFO's office as your boss always sends you to deliver the reports in person by the end of every week, always passing in front of Toto's office on you way there, which most of the time it's empty since he spends the year traveling, but you try to do your best when he is in, slowing your steps a little bit more to enjoy the view and fixing your appearance a little bit too before crossing in front of him. 

Still, his assistants are always at their front desk near there, making it impossible to sneak in. 

If only you could make it inside Toto's office without raising questions and with a good excuse. You laugh at the idea; it's wild and ain't going to happen, and if it does, your ass is getting fired. 

As the Mission Impossible cord from the ceiling scene comes to your mind, it's time for you to go to sleep.

-

As you anxiously roll from side to side of the bed, struggling to shut your brain off, you remember that Niki's surprise birthday celebration is scheduled in two weeks; you could volunteer to help organize the event and usher the people around, including Toto.

There is the slightest chance to make it to his office and take a quick photo of the sticky notes on the wall; it's borderline mental, but you really want to find out because Rose sounded so sure!

This is fucking insane. 

-

Two weeks, two new bouquets later.

When you finally reach the upper floor, where the "top-tier people work," almost everyone has left to get to the party on time. 

Being on time in Mercedes is a must, so there are few people you need to usher there.

You got accepted to join the Niki's celebration committee as a helper minion. Weirdly, it will be hosted in the base race of all places instead of the Silver Arrow Lounge, where most celebrations are usually held.

The decor is ready, the cake is at the counter, and the many photo props and snacks inspired by Niki's red cap are in place; even the catering and most of the people invited have arrived.

But Allison and Toto are nowhere to be seen, and the head of HR is on her nerves about it, thinking it could ruin the surprise or that two of the most influential people there are going to miss such an important event.

As you approach the bosses' offices area, you quickly search in the surroundings for them; it helps you that all offices have glass panel walls.

You venture to wander more, but nada, they are not there, and at this point, no one is there. As you return to the stairs, you pass in front of Toto's office once more. 

You just need to snap a quick picture. What could go wrong? No one is near to see you, and there are no cameras around since Toto dislikes that.

"Okay, Y/N, listen, it's just a couple of steps; you have your phone in your hand; it won't take more than a few seconds..."

You feel your body acting on its own and your feet slowly moving ahead. 

You gradually enter the luxurious and immaculate office.

"Okay, like four steps more, and I'm close enough to zoom in the picture." 

When you almost reach his desk and the perfect distance to snap the photo, you sense movement outside, fuck, fuck, fuck. You feel someone standing behind you, right at the door. 

Busted!

—Yes? Can I help you? —Toto's voice comes severe but calm.

You feel your heart in your throat as you slowly turn around. 

—Yes, you can! —you quickly reply, pretending to be looking at the cool helmets and steering wheels at the corner. Is it the best move your mind could come up with? Certainly not —...Sir... —you kind of finish saying, remembering he is the boss.

Toto stares at you, waiting for you to continue as you stand motionless in the middle of the room, looking straight at him. His eyebrows go up a little, and a tiny, amused smile forms on his lips as he moves his hand, gesturing you to continue.

—They are all waiting for you at the race base, sir... to start Niki's surprise reception. He is about to arrive. 

—And they sent you to get me?

—Yes —you feel the need to explain yourself more, feeling nervous. —Niki has no idea who I am, so I'm not blowing the surprise away if I bump into him on my way here! 

—Interesting... —he lets out gradually.

Oh god, Toto has no clue who I am either, right?

Fuck, I'm such an idiot!

—Oh, I, I'm Y/N —your brain starts working again as you quickly introduce yourself to him, offering him a hand to shake.

He looks even more perplexed at you but grabs it; it's awkward, and you want to crawl into a hole or hide beneath the expensive rug you are stepping on.

—We should get going; I have places to go, and I'm on a schedule today.

—Oh yes, of course, sir —you quickly exit his office as he closes its glass door behind you. Well, you literally pass below his muscular arm. 

Toto doesn't move much, so you squeeze in, almost brushing his body as you out, and he simultaneously closes the door, fuck, he is tall and smells so so so good.

-

It's a quiet walk downstairs; just the sound of your steps and breaths fills the room. You feel intimidated by Toto's presence, not used to having him that near you and being a shy-natured girl.

He seems to slow down his step, prolonging your agony. 

Should I say something? But what about? Work? Something casual? You assume he wonders the same since you feel his eyes on you every few steps, but he dares to break the ice before you can.

—So y..

—I'm To... Oh, sorry, go ahead —he says at the same time.

—Oh, no worries —you nervously place a strand of your hair behind your ear. He follows the movement of your hand with his eyes. —What were you saying? —you look straight at him, Jesus; he is way cuter up close; that's some strong jawline, you can't control your eyes going all over his features.

—That I didn't introduce myself upstairs. I'm Toto, by the way —he offers you a kind and unintentionally sexy smile.

You notice, a bit way too much, how all his traits soften and how relaxed and joyful he looks when he smiles.

It turns out that "The Creepy Employee Girl" should be your nickname now.

After perceiving him as less threatening, you joke around to make the air less awkward. —Really? I had no idea! I thought you were that Lewis guy everyone talks about! But nice to meet you Toto By The Way —you fool around.

He laughs a bit. —You never heard of me before? I guess I'm losing popularity around here nowadays!

—You must hang around more to be part of the "popular squad".

—Who holds the title right now?

—The gnomes.

—Oh, yes, they are quite popular.

—A bit too much, yeah.

As you two reach the entrance to the race base, he rushes his step to hold open the door for you, letting you go first; you feel his intense gaze follow you every step as you pass right across from him, making you feel things he shouldn't. 

Everyone who got invited is already there; the usually squeaky-clean and clear white counters now hold cups, party hats, bottles of champagne and sparkling water, delicacies, and a big red cap-shaped cake.

—Great! The boss is here! Please, bring Niki in —you hear the HR director speak through the intercom as she looks your way, sounding so relieved, and a minute later, all of you start cheering as Niki enters the room.

You expect Toto to instantly leave your side and go near the big names of the company and his precious stylish drivers, but no, he stays right next to you.

As Niki almost reaches you two, getting hugs all his way down, he comes closer to Toto first and says in a low voice, but you are still able to hear him. —Is the cake vegan?! —looking concerned before tightly and roughly hugging him, knowing they would call him to blow out the candles and bite the cake soon.

—No, sir, this time they brought Lewis his own cake —you inform him, getting in the conversation, as the two of them turn to look at you.

—Oh, thank god! I almost spit out last year's "fake" cake! Hi Y/N! I didn't notice you there! This mountain was on the way —he pats Toto's chest a bit too strongly. Niki makes a funny face, eyebrows going up, not sugarcoating around as usual but earnest and light-spirited.

You laugh, exhaling cute sounds; even you have to admit you have a lovely, infectious laugh.

—Hi sir, happy birthday!

How on earth does Niki know my name?! He knows who I am?! WHAT...

-

—...the fuck were you thinking?! —Oliver looks shocked and pale as you update him and Rose about your little adventure today. —You honestly thought it could be Toto?!

—Can a girl have a dream?! —you shrug as you keep typing violently on your computer, wanting to finish that notice as soon as possible to move on to the next task, starting to feel stressed.

—You could have got into serious trouble, like big trouble, like getting fired trouble —Rose says, dead serious. —I feel terrible for enabling you!

—I know it was reckless and stupid, really stupid! —you admit, feeling dumb now about your actions.

God knows what got into you!

-

The next day, on your way to the cafeteria for lunch, you sense something is going on; everyone is acting weird.

Until you enter the room to find Toto having his meal in there, alone at a table, aware of the looks he is getting.

What is he doing here? He usually goes out for lunch or eats inside his office.

The fuck.

He waves a hand at you; you look around to see if he is addressing someone else till he arches an eyebrow, slightly annoyed, so you hurry up to reach him.

—Well, you weren't wrong! By all the looks I received on my way here, and fairly now, it appears I don't hang around much —he invites you to sit, stretching his arm, pointing to the chair in front of his, before continuing. —It wasn't unusual to see me everywhere before; of course, it was the early days, and we were a smaller team back then —he almost looked sad and nostalgic about it.

—Look at you, man of the people!

—Eat your salad —he rolls his eyes at you as you get your lunch out.

—Is that like a boss order, or?

—Maybe, if I'm feeling moody. 

—So, I guess most of the old guard is gone?

—Are you low-hand calling me old?

—Well, how ancient are you?

—I'm almost 70 —he makes you smile and looks all pleased with himself and his dumb humor. —I know, I look good for 70!

—Who would have thought you had a sense of humor? You always look severe and bossy.

—Can you stop low-key insulting me?

—Neva'

-

After two weeks of having lunch with Toto and getting to know each other more every day, you two become friends; some days, a different person joins you; at some point, you can't believe you are sharing quinoa recipes with Lewis and comparing drinking pub stories with Niki.

—Is it me, or have you abandoned us, the peasants? —Oliver says to you when you return to the office.

—Oh, come on! You can join, you know that! He knows who you two are; we talk about you guys a lot, and he greets you daily!

—Now that you are part of the "big farts" table, hanging with the famous, why would you care about two random coworkers? —Rose overdramatizes.

—OH COME ON!

—Apparently, you don't care about the old and wise saying "Bros before hoes," —Oliver adds.

—Of course, I care about you two hoes. Please join us tomorrow. PLEASE?! —you beg them with the biggest smile and puppy eyes ever seen.

—Eating with the boss and talking to him? I'm not risking it! —Oliver says, dead honest, not trusting himself.

—He is trying to reconnect with the team; he isn't going to judge you! Besides, Toto knows you are my besties.

Two long "aw" come your way.

—That's so cute, but NO! —Rose ends the conversation.

-

As you admire the new bouquet of tulips you get delivered the next day, your phone suddenly buzzes on your desk, distracting you from finishing updating the chart with the latest data.

—Lunchtime already? 😩🥙

—Who this? 👀

—Luke, I'm your father.

—He dead 🙏🌫️

—Oh, shit, sorry! Bad joke!

—💀💀💀

—There's no need to be that explicit.

—It means dying of laughter!

—Oh, shit, I'm old, it's Toto By The Way.

—I'm saving you with that name! How did you get my number?

—By boss privilege.

—YES! LET'S LUNCH PLEASE! I'm Hungarian.

—What?

—Typo sorry, hungry!

—HA! See you in five! 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

-

—Could going to lunch with someone at the cafeteria be considered a date? —you turn around in your office chair to address Oliver.

—Dreaming is free, bestie!

-

On your way to meet Toto, you bump into the most annoying senior engineer, Mr. Schäfer, in the corridor. 

OH GOD! Please don't talk to me, please don't talk to me, you think as you two cross paths, but sadly, you notice him stop his step after making eye contact with you.

—Miss, Y/LN. A minute?

SHIT!

-

—Sorry I'm late! "Gwen Stefani" got me on my way here!

—Who? —Toto looks at you, amused and confused.

Shit! You burped out.

—Ahem, Mr. Schäfer —you quickly correct, taking your water bottle out of your bag and drinking it after rushing there. Toto stares at the couple of drops that escape your lips and slide down your chin and neck, and he swallows hard.

—What did you call him? —Toto asks, clearing his throat.

—Oh, don't mind me!

—Yes, mind you! It's a pretty accurate nickname, I must admit it, even if I shouldn't, but it fits —Toto shrugs nonchalantly, with a chuckle on his face. 

Schäfer is really pretty, lean, blond, pale, has big bambi's brown eyes, and his voice is so annoying.

And now you feel embarrassed.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, as you two eat, Toto says: —Do I have a nickname?

—Oh, no, no one dares.

—Why? Do people fear me? —his expression changes to one of concern. —Maybe that would explain why people always seem to slow down their pace in the main corridor as soon as they see me inside the elevator. I always try to press the hold button to wait for them.

—This leaves me with a question: How do you fit in there? Your hair sure is touching the ceiling —he looks at you with an "Are you kidding me?" face. —No, for real!

—Don't avoid the actual question!

—Okay, okay, it's more like you intimidate. You look a bit, ahem, stern.

—Really? So, that was your first impression of me?

—Well, not really —you feel your cheeks turning red, fuck. —The first time I saw you, IRL.

—Sorry?

—In real life! You were being interviewed at the reception on that pearl/grey, awful porn movie-esque rug, which is inappropriate to say because the interviewer was a kid; anyway, It was something adorable to see. So that was my first impression of you, sweet and kind —his eyes soften at your answer, and you feel your knees touching beneath the table. —And also well lit —you joke. 

As you do your best at not being honest and admitting to Toto, you fell in love with him the first time you saw him. It was instant.

—Oh. 

-

Another week goes by, February starts, and the most stunning bouquet to this moment arrives. Okay, this one is a lot. 

—Good lord, "Creepy Flower Guy" went full force with this one; what did you do to him?! —Rose asks, jaw on the floor as she stares at that humongous thing.

—I have no fucking clue.

—You think he is about to reveal himself? —Oliver points out. —Maybe this is a "going out with a BANG!".

—Honestly, I don't care much about it anymore —you admit. You feel several heads turning your way, shocked.

"It's not who I would like it to be," you think. You don't need to say more to know that Oliver and Rose get it.

-

That working day was cut short since it was the Monster-sponsored "Spartan Race," a cross-fit competition. 

Many coworkers listed at the contest held outside on the garden grounds where a fancy circuit got built, but not you. You volunteered to help deliver the medals to the participants at the finish line.

In the meantime, you take a good spot with Oliver to watch the competition unfold and cheer for Rose.

—You go, Rambo! —you scream at her as she completes another obstacle course.

You watch Toto pass in those goddamn shorts, looking so hot, all sweaty. Toto's shirt's tight fabric on the skin leaves little to the imagination.

You meet him at the finish line an hour later, as you are now doing your duty. As soon as he notices you, he starts to jog in your direction with the most mischievous smile.

—Oh no, no, no! Don't you even...! —you receive the biggest and tightest hug from a sweaty, wet, and full of dirt and mud Toto.

—OH GOD! Get off! —you pull him away, making yucky faces.

—I was hoping to bump into you at the circuit! —he tells you, still with a lot of energy, as you place his gold medal on his neck, he is bending to your height.

—I'm not that sporty; you would have to drag me to the finish line.

—I would have gladly carried you around in these powerful arms! —he jokes while flexing.

You roll your eyes at him.

-

The next day, at your desk.

As you blast the newest episode of your favorite crime podcast, Rose and Oliver start making eye contact with you, trying to grab your attention, moving their eyes several times to the left as you take out your AirPods.

—WHAT?!

—Sure, those things cancel noise! I have spent about an hour trying to talk to you!

Oh shit, you jump a little at the sound of Toto's voice near your ear.

—Were you listening to a murder podcast? At work?! You are going to hurt your ears; I was able to hear it from here —Toto is leaning on the left side of your desk.

—Maybe... I was... —you look at him with squinted eyes, and he looks back at you the same way.

—What is that thing?! —Toto says, a bit disgusted at the exuberance, pointing to the enormous bouquet beside your computer.

—It's a long story —you try to avoid the subject.

—I want to hear it when I return. I will not join you at lunch today or the rest of the week.

—Bummer, where are you going then? —you turn in your chair to face him.

Everyone looks at you with a "Did you really ask the boss that?" face.

—Austria, It's my mom's birthday.

—Aw, sweet, wish her a happy birthday for me!

—I will —you look at each other tenderly, both wanting to say more. You suddenly feel the desperate need to hug Toto, but a simple: —See you next week, then! —comes out of your mouth, ending the interaction.

-

It's almost Valentine's Day, and Toto has returned from his little adventure in the mountains; he laughs when you text him that. You two talked even more than usual every day during his absence.

So you text him if you could go up to his office.

—Knock, knock —you say as you pop your head in at his door.

He brightens as he sees you, fully smiling at you, making your stomach feel butterflies. 

—Please, come in!

You approach his desk, holding something in your hands; it's an envelope with an invitation in the old-fashioned way. —Hi! —you smile big at him. —I have the obligation to invite you to the traditional "Lonely Hearts Party" on Valentine's Day!

—No one wants the boss at an outside-the-office party —he looks at you a bit taken out.

—Yeah, I know, we know. But still, you are invited. It's for singles only, assuming that you are single, which no one thinks you are, so here —you feel Toto's hand touching yours as you deliver him the envelope, leaving you with a lingering sensation on your fingers, a very Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy moment in your delulu mind.

—I'm going to be in Brazil, but thank you anyway, and yes, I'm single —he pays attention to your reaction to his words, and you pray for him not to notice the little happy smile forming on your lips. —Are you... are you like... seeing someone? —he asks you.

—I'm going to attend the Lonely Hearts Party, you think?! Listen, my neighbor, Miss Tailor, is 80 and has a boyfriend; even that old rag has seen more action than me this year!

Toto's palm goes onto his face, bursting with laughter; he is laughing so hard at your comment that no sound comes out of his throat, just hallows of air, and he goes all red, not believing your words. —You are quite something! —He lets you know and looks at you with adoration, his face resting on his hand and his elbow on the desk. 

—I know —you nod, kidding. —Anyway, have a nice day, and see you later!

-

During that day's lunch break, Toto demands you to explain to him in detail all about that "Creepy Flower Guy," he even ventures to guess who he is after listening to the whole story.

—Milo, Ben, and Ansel all have stared you down when you walk past in front of them, with lust obviously, and I heard Finn once complimenting your good looks to say it nicely —he informs you.

Is that jealousy you detect?

Toto does pay attention.

-

It's Wednesday, and your car is out in maintenance, so you make it extra early on that day at the office; you wanted to avoid risking it being late since you aren't used to using public transport to get there.

You make it just in time to witness Mike walking away from your desk inside your desert office through the glass panel wall from afar. As you walk to your chair, you notice new flowers are already in place. You feel your heartbeat going full speed and a wave of disappointment washing you over; what were you expecting, for it to really be Toto?

That entire day, you remain all moody and quiet, and your friends notice it, but you say nothing about it.

You even ask your boss to leave early, being unable to handle being near Toto today, which leaves him worried, judging by the four texts and two missed phone calls you received from him, wondering where you are and if everything is okay.

-

Four days later, you are like nothing has happened. As you walk your way to enter the building where you work, you notice Toto sitting alone in the distance, having a call; you slowly start to walk toward him, switching paths.

He finally has returned from his trip to Stuggart.

—Well, the "Creepy Flower Guy" saga has come to an end, my friend; I found out who he is —you inform him, unenthusiastic, as you sit on the bench in the pond's garden right next to him.

—You don't seem so excited —Toto's eyes look slightly concerned as he tells you.

—Well, no, to be honest.

—Drumrolls —Toto says, trying to lift your spirits, slapping his thighs, making the sound. —And the creep is?!

—Mike, from financial.

—Magic Mike?! —Toto lets out a bit too loud.

—Yep!

—Are you sure? Like 100%? But how?!

You nod. —I saw Mike near my desk in the early hours a couple of days ago, and the flowers were there as he was walking away from the crime scene! Also, by the drawer full of flower receipts at his office desk. They all match the types of bouquets I received and have the exact dates.

—Are you creeping around in people's offices again?

—WAIT A MINUTE! I wasn't creeping into your office! 

—Oh no? What were you doing near my desk? Looking for Niki's cake?

—Shut up! I was looking for you. 

—Yes, I love to hide myself in there —Toto playfully and softly pushes you. 

—And NO! I wasn't creeping around in Mike's office; Anita sent me to get the notice she needed, and I went there; it turns out Mike was on holiday, but he left the instruction to collect it from the drawer on his desk, and then I opened the wrong drawer and BAMB! It was full of receipts and bills from the flower company that delivered my flowers. Not to be nosy, but Magic Mike is doing pretty well; I had no idea how expensive they were!

—Wait! But you aren't telling me! Are you into Magic Mike? Do you fancy him?

—No, not him, anyway.

Toto stares intensely at you and wants to say more. If you weren't so in the zone, you would have noticed it and given him a chance, but no, you continue blurting out words.

—But I will go and thank him, I guess. I don't want to hurt him; he is lovely. Everyone told me to go out on a date with him. I don't feel like it right now, but it's not always love at first sight, right? Maybe that doesn't even exist; I was expecting to fall in love, you know, movie style, but that may not be real, or at least not for girls like me. Besides, Valentine's Day is approaching, and I don't feel like spending it alone again —you let out a sigh after talking forever.

—Weren't you going to that Lonely Hearts Party? It sounds fun. It's better than going on a date with someone you don't like just to feel better —Toto tells you a bit moody.

—Oh god, I love you; you are always right; you are so annoying —you add while hugging and kissing him on the cheek. —Is there any chance I can fit in your suitcase for Brazil? I wouldn't mind spending Valentine's Day with a hot Brazilian or at the beach.

Toto laughs while shaking his head.

—I have to go! —you complain, checking the hour on your smartwatch. —Unfortunately, I have work to pretend to do! 

—Sometimes I feel you forget I'm the boss here —he jokes with you as he crosses his arms and watches you walk backward, still facing him, getting further away.

—YES SIR!

-

It's the Wednesday before Valentine's Day, and to everyone's surprise, the flowers stop arriving.

"Did Toto tell Mike I don't like him and to stop sending me flowers?" You take out your phone to text him.

—Apparently, even "Creepy Flower Guy" gave up on me.

—Really?! —Toto replies.

—Yes. No flowers today.

He gives you no further information, no replying text comes your way.

-

It's Valentine's Day, and you are wearing a shiny red mini dress with matching bow heels to the Lonely Hearts Party.

You took your time doing your makeup, which you feel you nailed, and your hair looks sleek. 

As you check yourself in the mirror, you feel confident and hot!

-

After several drinks and enjoying the music and the vibe, you relish the party, but your mind keeps wandering to the anticlimactic ending of the flower guy mystery.

The only crime and murder here was the one of your feelings and heart.

Two hours later, you start to feel bummed out enough after witnessing many hookups and new couples forming, slightly envious of them and feeling lonelier than ever, aching that Toto was here with you instead of Brazil. You decide you've had enough and are about to leave when you feel a soft finger tap on your right shoulder. You turn around to see who it is.

Definitely, you aren't ready for the scene that greets you.

Toto is standing right before you, holding a bouquet in his hands, looking extremely handsome, with a shy smile on his lips.

—What are you doing here?! —you look astonished at him. Am I that drunk?! Thinking you are seeing things now.

—I felt like delivering them to you in person from now on —he offers you the roses.

Your brain takes its time to process his words and what's happening. This is really happening.

—You are? —you try to say and instinctively grab the bouquet.

—The Creepy Flower Guy, yes.

You laugh at the sound of the nickname on his lips.

—Let's call him "flower guy" from now on.

—Yeah, let's call him Toto better, or my love, if you prefer. I hope you aren't as disappointed this time.

—But Mike? —you ask, confused.

—Have you ever heard of the terms invoice and tax returns? He does my accounting, too. Mike helped me deliver the flowers till I felt ready to show myself. He is a long friend of mine.

—That's why he had all the receipts; that makes sense. Wait!

You close the distance between Toto and you and place a kiss on his lips; getting on your tiptoes, he slowly and hungrily starts kissing you more, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, not letting you move an inch away from him.

—Thank you for the flowers, my love but weren't you supposed to be in Brazil by now? —you ask him as you both catch your breaths.

His lips are so soft and warm.

—Oh, I'm going to be in Brazil soon, but I forgot to mention to you that you would also be there. Happy Valentine's Day, my love! —he gives you another long and delicious kiss.

—Shouldn't I have packed? —you ask against his lips, already overthinking.

Toto shakes his head.

—We aren't going to need much clothes, anyway. -

Would you like to read another fic?

My Toto Woff fics > Masterlist

#toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fic #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff fanfiction #toto wolff #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #mercedes fanfic #formula 1 fic #toto wolff imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #toto wollf x oc #toto wolff x occ #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc

[savagewildnerness]

I’ve never met Sam, but he did photobomb me once!

I wish I wasn’t such a shy, reserved person, as I adored Sam in this play, but it took ALL of my energy to get myself to get a photo with just the incredible Shirley Henderson (even though I’d seen the play probably 10-15 times at this point. I utterly ADORED it & everyone in it.) I am SO scared of being annoying! You do not understand how much it took for me to build myself up to get a photo & autograph from just the ONE human! Gosh, Shirley was insanely great in this play! Like you couldn’t take your eyes off her magnificence! And the emotion in how she sang: I can feel it just as strongly in my heart right now still.

Anyway, I was too scared & incapable of speaking to everyone/too afraid to be annoying to more than one human! So I didn’t get an autograph or photo with Sam or anyone else in the play.

However, I noticed that there is Sam, in the background here!! Teehee! He was SO un-Lestat back then! But the character he played in this play had a tragedy to him. As did all the characters in the play. It was such a yearning play. Sam played a young man who had so much potential (in life & love), yet squandered it till he was doomed to tragedy… and how realistic is that to reality! I feel (& am) that. Everyone tended towards satisfying, resonant, true, beautiful & sorrowful tragedy & there was never any other conclusion. Gosh, I ADORED it! And THE MUSIC! But music with all the resonance folk who are actors first can give it.

Honestly I would give ANYTHING to experience this play, especially incredible Shirley just one more time. It’s in my top 5 plays ever. It’s an awful photo of me, as even on my 15th watch of the play, I had spent the entire 2-3 hours sobbing! It was SO SAD! I cried just as much every single time I watched it.

Also, LOL - you know you’re short when Shirley Henderson crouches for a photo with you!!! Look at us, like wee gnomes, with normal human-sized Sam in the background! 😂😅😂🤣😭💀

#girl from the north country #sam reid #shirley henderson #Conor McPherson #interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt #anne rice #the vampire lestat #iwtv lestat #amc interview with the vampire

[meanbossart]

Hello hello!

I have to say that ever since I discovered you here, I can't get away from your art! I just adore uncanny things of all kinds…. AND as a social worker I just love it when people put so much thought into the psychology of their OCs. It makes me feel less weird when I write little psychology papers about my own characters.

Anyways! I had this super stupid idea for a picture~ So-. Here we are! After some Tavs made fun of his scars-… from one Drow Durge Creep to another.

Provided, of course, that DU Drow and Lux don't immediately try to kill each other. x)

Although Lux's not a normal Drow either - I like to play with clichés -. So, as a Drow woman, she is much smaller than most men (146 cm [4'7]) and rather reserved when dealing with others. If I could have put her strength stat below 8, I would have ò_ó She's just a skinny ass necromancer.

Besides, she never really met other Drow before she goes into the Underdark with Astarion in the post-game. Because she was raised in Candlekeep after Bhaal threw her somewhere and before she caused the first bloodbath.

So-… she'd probably rather stand behind someone and stare until she's approached-… than actually ask him out for a drink. lol.

Otherwise… Happy Easter to you!

AAAAAAAAAA LOOK AT THESE TWO MESSED UP FUCKERS!!!! They look adorable together, and Lux seems like a real... Uh... A real charmer. I'm sure an encounter between them would be the most harmonious wall of silence and awkward staring the world's ever seen. She's so short too that this behemoth of a man might confuse her for a deep gnome or something, so perhaps they could have an amicable start pfft.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR KIND WORDS, AND FOR TAKING THE TIME TO DRAW MY IDIOT WITH YOURS!!! I guess I could mention here that I'm a psych school dropout to try and explain away all the psycho-analysis that goes on in this blog, but honestly I would probably be doing this regardless, it just turns out I prefer to pick brains that I made myself (and it's free too, unlike college).

Happy Easter to you too, and thank you for the important work you do!

#ask #gift art #other tavs #DU drow

[shentheauthor]

I’m so glad you include Pulcinella in your romantic (maybe romantic) headcanons 😭. It’s a nice change! Do you do suggestive stuff? If not it’s totally fine! Can you do plus-sized S/O with the harbingers?

Fucking hell I had half of this done but it deleted all of it, kill me

Anyway tho— I don’t do suggestive stuff, sorry. And of course I can’t leave out my favorite gnome <3

Harbingers with a plus size s/o—

————

Pierro:

More of you to love ayy

Literally

He will happily hold you

Makes it so clear he absolutely adores you

Loves your body so much, you have no idea

He gets very stressed, so he will let you lay on him like a weighted blanket

Give this touch starved old man some love raaahhh

Capitano:

LIFT

LIFTS YOU

He’s lowkey proud he can lift you no matter what

He isn’t prideful, but he’s proud of you

Internally he’s like “yes, this is my s/o, look at how gorgeous they are”

Externally he’s like 😐

At least it’s very clear to you how much he loves you gjekkgkekg

If you’re insecure, he’ll just lift you up and compliment you sm

Loves your stretch marks, if you have them. He likes tracing them with his fingers.

Dottore:

He won’t compliment you on your looks without being directly asked

Unless you show insecurity

If you’re insecure, he’ll spit scientific facts about body weight and how healthiness looks different for everyone

I’m sorry he’ll just start infodumping JFJGKKDKG

But hey, if you’re dating him, you probably don’t mind

He values intelligence more than looks, so as long as you’re smart and can hold a conversation, or at least are willing to learn, he loves you

Columbina:

Love love loves you

She’s small, so she likes being held by you

You’re like a big ol teddy bear

Another one that likes tracing stretch marks

She’ll just try to touch and hold as much of you as she can

She will make you feel so loved, insecure or not

You’ve already made it this far with her, so she isn’t very reserved lmao

Nobody will ever dare to make a rude comment about you on her watch

Arlecchino:

She also will not compliment you directly

Unless you’re outwardly insecure

“Don’t be ridiculous, I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t think you were just fine the way you are.”

Kinda cold, but fiogkgkrkgkrkg she will soften over time

Her actions speak louder than her words tho

She loves holding you, and will make that very clear

Will find a way to hold you no matter what, unless it’s in public

Pulcinella:

Tiny man

If you cuddle him, he is the happiest mf alive

PLEASE cuddle him

He get so stressed from work, so if you hug him, he just melts

He is a sappy bastard, so he will compare you to legendary gods/goddesses and figures from mythology

Literally just loves you so much

He LOVES how small he is compared to you

He’s like a teddy bear

Scaramouche:

“Why should I care about what you look like?”

He finds the concern a bit stupid, but mostly because he doesn’t understand why people would be rude about it

It doesn’t matter to him, why should it matter to mortals?

Still, he will make it clear that he loves you and your body

He loves your rolls and stretch marks if you have them

He thinks it looks like kintsukuroi, the process of repairing cracks in pottery and lacquerware with gold or silver

I couldn’t resist throwing in my pottery knowledge gjjejgjejg sorry

He doesn’t compliment you directly without making it seem like he’s being harsh

But you get the idea

I love him sm

Sandrone:

She adores you

She likes playing dress up with you, and your body gives her opportunities to get creative

She does treat you like you’re one of her “dolls,” but if you don’t mind, it’s fine gjejgjekg

She thinks your rolls and stretch marks make you look like a mosaic

A beautiful, moving statue

She will lay on you while tinkering with small projects

Give her all the love, she needs it

Can and will brutally maim anyone who’s rude to you

Signora:

Ok so she’s SUPER tall

Which means she has longer arms

Which means she can hold you properly

She ADORES you

She will trace your body and compliment you all the time

“I love every single inch of you, dear”

She will destroy anyone who dares to make you feel insecure

Literally

Drop kicks them into the sun

She clings to you and does not let go. You managed to thaw her heart, and she will make it so clear that she cares so much

I MISS HERRRR

Pantalone:

He thinks you’re the most beautiful person to walk Teyvat

He will gift you with clothes perfectly sized for you

That accentuate your body to where it looks even more perfect than it was before

Another who will compare any stretch marks to kintsukuroi

He will do paperwork with you either laying on him, or him laying on you

He literally loves you so much dude

Smitten

Tartaglia:

BODY POSITIVITY!!!

Your body is a temple

And he will treat it as such

He will hold you and trace your skin and kiss you all over

“I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have such a beautiful s/o”

You are the entire world to him

He will make you feel like the most special person on the planet

If anyone dares to make you feel insecure about your body, he will challenge them to a duel and NOT hold back (aka that mf is very injured after)

He is giggling and kicking his feet around you

Just… hold him and he will be SO happy

Golden retriever man

#genshin impact #harbinger headcanons #Shen’s headcanons #fatui harbingers #Fatui x reader #genshin x reader #Pierro #capitano #Dottore #columbina #Arlecchino #pulcinella #Scaramouche #Sandrone #Signora #Pantalone #Tartaglia

[justcallmefox89]

Gnome Troubles IX - Astarion's POV

Wicket is more perceptive than Astarion planned on.

Potential TW: brief mentions of Astarion's attitude/reluctance towards sex, but mainly a very fluffy and understanding Wicket.

Astarion tries to remain calm, forcing himself to relax against Wicket as the gnome whispers gentle words and showers him with soft touches and warm kisses.  This was not how Astarion had planned for their encounter to go, had needed their encounter to go in order to ensure Wicket’s loyalty and protection.

“Are you here with me, dearest?” Rough fingertips tenderly touch Astarion chin, turning his head until his eyes meet Wicket’s concerned gaze.  His colorless eyes, so often flat and detached, now burn with pale fire as he stares intently at Astarion.

The vampire forces a carefree smile onto his lips.  “Absolutely.”

“Hm.”  Wicket pulls away slightly, looking entirely unconvinced.

Damn this observant gnome.

Pushing down his reservations Astarion launches himself at Wicket, fusing his mouth to his in a passionate kiss.  He takes advantage of their size difference and Wicket’s momentary surprise, and nimbly rolls the other man onto his back.  Astarion kisses down the side of Wicket’s neck, ignoring the temptation to feed, and slides his hands under the rough fabric of his shirt.  He runs his hands up Wicket’s torso, relishing the sheer warmth of his skin and the way the muscles of his stomach shudder and tense beneath his fingertips.  This is his element, the medium in which he excels whether he enjoys it or not. 

Astarion pauses his exploration of Wicket’s body as his hands reach the gnome’s chest, tracing along a mass of raised scar tissue located directly over Wicket’s heart.

Wicket’s body stiffens and he gently, but firmly, slides Astarion’s hands out from beneath his shirt.  “Let’s leave some things to the imagination, hm?”

“But-” Astarion begins to protest, intrigued in spite of himself.

Wicket brushes his lips against Astarion’s in a fleeting caress.  “There are so many things we could be doing that are much more interesting than my old scars,” he purrs, urging Astarion onto his back.  “Let me show you…”

Astarion wants to object, to demand answers, but then Wicket flicks his tongue against the vampire’s pulse point, and suddenly whatever questions he may have don’t seem quite so important.  Wicket continues to kiss up his neck, pausing to nip at his earlobe before tracing the shell of his ear with the tip of his tongue.  Astarion shudders at the pleasurable feel of the gnome’s warm breath against the sensitive point of his ear, his skin breaking out in goosebumps.

Maybe this time it won’t be so bad… since it’s him.

Wicket kisses Astarion’s cheek, drawing the elf out of his negative thoughts.  Realizing this is his time to ensure the cleric’s protection, Astarion forces himself to focus on the task at hand.

“Darling, why don’t you -”

Wicket’s catches his hand as he reaches for him, tenderly kissing his palm.  “What did I say about your pleasure?”

Astarion takes a shuddering breath as Wicket kisses the tip of each of his fingers, then his palm again, ending with a warm, lingering kiss on his inner wrist.  “That… that…”

Wicket continues kissing up his forearm, pausing only to peek up at Astarion beneath his lashes with a wicked smirk.  “Mmm?”

“That my pleasure is your pleasure?” Astarion sighs out the last word as Wicket’s lips skim up his bicep to his shoulder.

“Then allow me to indulge in my desires, beautiful one,” Wicket murmurs, gently scraping his teeth against Astarion’s collarbone.

Brief panic flashes through the elf at Wicket’s words, accompanied by a rarely felt surge of lust.  Wicket somehow senses Astarion’s discomfort and instantly ceases his exploration of the other man’s body, simply resting his head against Astarion’s bicep and holding his hand, stroking his thumb across his knuckles.  Many quiet moments pass as Astarion’s breathing calms and he relaxes into Wicket’s warmth.

“I think we should stop for the night,” Wicket says softly.

“What? Why?” Astarion snaps, unwilling to miss out on this opportunity despite his discomfort.

Wicket tilts his back to meet Astarion’s angry gaze.  “I have done many terrible things in my life, but I have never, and will never, force myself on an unwilling partner.”

“I -”

“You may not be unwilling but you’re not entirely comfortable either,” Wicket says firmly.  “So for tonight, this ends here.”

Astarion glares at him, furious that his grand plan has been foiled by Wicket’s decency.  “Fine,” he snaps, sitting up and crossing his arms in irritation.

Wicket chuckles and sweeps his long hair back over his shoulders at his sits up.  “Have you fed today?”

“No,” the vampire answers testily.

Wicket huffs in quiet amusement.  “You do tend to be more petulant than usual when you’re hungry.”

“You pompous little - ” Astarion’s insults die in his throat as Wicket reclines back on the blanket, tugging down the collar of his shirt to bare his throat to the vampire’s hungry gaze.  He licks his lips uncertainly, his eyes darting from Wicket’s neck to his face and then back again. 

Wicket crooks a finger at him, beckoning him closer.  Astarion settles on the blanket next to him, slipping one hand beneath his head and the other around his waist to hold him close. 

“Are you sure?” he whispers uncertainly.

Wicket tenderly traces the sharp curve of Astarion’s cheekbone with the tip of one finger.  “Take what you need from me.”

Some long dead part of Astarion flickers to life in that moment, a withered flower stretching towards the pale light of a winter’s morning after years of darkness.

He brushes an infinitely gentle kiss against Wicket’s slightly rough lips.  “This is a gift, you know,” he whispers hoarsely.  “I won’t forget it.”

#bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #tav #baldurs gate tav #my tav #tav x astarion #baldurs gate 3 tav #tav oc #astarion x tav #tav bg3 #baldurs gate #astarion #wicket the gnome #gnome troubles #forest gnome #bg3 gnome #gnome tav #astarion x male reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion x reader #astarion x male tav #astarion x oc #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic

[pheonixkenny]

How do you think other characters would react if they found out about Kenny’s immortality? I kinda go back and forth on this. I have many different ideas on how they’d react depending on how I’m feeling or information I have or w/e. I’m not sure how they would react canonically but I have some of my own ideas. (Ideas listed under the cut.)

Kyle: Given that he was the only one to give him the benefit of the doubt when Kenny mentioned it in “Coon Vs Coon and Friends.” (“Ok, let’s say you’re not crazy and it’s true.”) He would be one of the best at handling it. He does still think it’s kinda cool, but he knows better now than to tell Kenny that. He’s the one who asks him the most questions. (Like, “What’s it like to die? What’s the afterlife like? Do you think you’ll live forever?, etc.) He does feel kinda guilty for not knowing/believing him earlier, thinking he’s a bad friend. He enters big brother protection mode (previously reserved for Ike) around Kenny afterwards to try and keep him from dying so much. Kenny cycles back and forth between being flattered and annoyed about this. He also becomes determined to break Kenny’s curse, researching everything he can about the cult of cthulhu and immortality. The guy has a full on conspiracy board about this within a week.

Cartman: I know a lot of people have the theory that he already knows, it’s a solid theory that holds up logically but I don’t personally believe it because Cartman would absolutely take advantage of Kenny’s little power for his own gain. Anyone else who finds out about it tries to keep it from Cartman for this very reason.

Butters: Butters is a sweetheart so he apologizes profusely and gives Kenny a hug when he finds out. He also hugs Kenny whenever he comes back from a death and tries to comfort him, with varying degrees of success. I also feel like Butters would just believe him without any proof. Given how many of Cartman’s schemes he’s fallen for over the years I think it’s safe to say that he’s pretty gullible. He will believe pretty much anything you tell him. It’s just in this case it happens to be true.

Tweek: I saw a headcanon on here that Tweek would also believe Kenny because, thanks to the Underpants Gnomes, he knows how frustrating it is not to be believed. I love that and am stealing it. He wouldn’t exactly handle the information well though, because that is WAY too much pressure.

Craig: Craig didn’t give a shit when fucking lasers came out of his eyes so it’s safe to say he doesn’t give a shit about this either. He’ll say a sarcastic remark about it once in a while, but that’s about it.

Stan: Hoo boy, Stan. I know that I just recently wrote a fanfiction where Stan is patient and understanding about the whole thing but I changed my mind. So, in “The Cissy” when people around him start experimenting with gender for various reasons Stan gets worried and confused. He reacts similarly during the Tweek and Craig/Yaoi situation in “Tweek x Craig”. And who could forget the time when he didn’t go visit Kenny in the hospital because he couldn’t deal with the situation? (I’m making him sound like a bad kid, he’s not, he’s just sensitive and doesn’t know how to handle some things in the best way.) So now I’m thinking that when he finds out he’ll have another Stan Marsh Existential Crisis (patent pending) and just kinda avoid Kenny for a while. That’s not a good way to handle it but he doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t know what to say to the guy. It feels like everything has changed between them. Kyle has to intervene and goes up to Stan like “dude, quit being an idiot and go talk to Kenny. He thinks you hate him now.” (Because I can’t imagine a world where Stan knows and Kyle doesn’t or vice versa.) And he feels bad because he never meant to give him that impression. He still likes him just as much as before, he just needed some time to process everything. So he takes Kyle’s advice and they talk things out. Kenny understands how the information can be a shock and Stan promises not to withdraw like that again when his friends need him. Eventually he gets used to it and it just becomes another quirk that one of his friends has. (Thinking of writing a fic about this scenario but, like I said, I already wrote a fic focusing on Stan and Kenny’s relationship. I should probably use one of my Kyle and Kenny fic ideas first.)

#this gets long and rambly I apologize #south park #kenny mccormick #immortal Kenny #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #eric cartman #butters stotch #tweek tweak #craig tucker

[dungeonbent]

Log The 45th. I Have Done My Business In Setting Up Several Meetings With Various Dungeoning Parties.

I Have Some Reservations.

The Touden Party:

Pros: Seem Incredibly Skilled; Have Recently Been Commended For Slaying A Dragon.

Cons: They Have Never Gone As Deep In The Dungeon As I Desire To Go... And Their Elf Companion Makes Me A Little Uncomfortable.

She Reminds Me Of The More Unsavory Peers From My School Days.

The Fetcher Party:

Pros: Appear Very Experienced, With A High Rate Of Corpse Retrieval; May Be Useful For If The Research Part Of The Mission Turns To Rescue

Cons: Their Gnome Caster Seems Nervous Of The Rest. I Do Not Think I Can Trust Them Not To Turn Me Into A Corpse.

The Utaya Party:

Pros: Seem Quite Noble; Likely Have No Ill Intent Or Likelihood Of Robbing Me Blind In The Dungeon

Cons: They Seem A Bit Inexperienced, And They Speak A Lot About Breaking The Dungeon's Curse. I Do Not Particularly Care About Breaking Any Curses.

I Wonder If Mr Egbert Has Any Suggestions...

#kanaya maryam #day 3 #laois touden #kabru of utaya #marcille donato #dungeon meshi #dunmeshistuck #homestuck

[travelling-my-little-pony]

Night Glider is wandering around the Gnome Reserve!

In Woolfardisworthy, near Bideford, in Devon, England.

#my little pony #g1 #night glider #gnomes #gnome reserve #woolfardisworthy #devon #england

[y-rhywbeth2]

Random assortment of lore for the day:

Somehow I forgot to finish typing that the forest gnome age of majority is 20 years old in the gnome write-up. Sorry. -

If you're an elf, and you get married, you have the option of forging a permanent telepathic link with your spouse/s. (They don't have to be elven, it's just a ritual that needs to be cast by an elf) -

If you're a dwarf, and you get married, the wedding is not about you. It's about your family, who will be heavily involved in the whole process, and all of your ancestors are coming too; we'll reserve chairs and put their axes in the audience so that they can be there. (Because you're continuing the legacy of the clan, thus it inherently involves the clan)

#lore stuff

[enuode-au]

Shelby "Shubble" Coliva

The Wolf Tamer

The title was given to him by her council upon learning of her wolf abilities. It's also a reference to one of her titles in Empires S1.

Wolf - She can speak to wolves

Tamer - They have a wolf pack that she communicates with often

Ruler of the Undergrowth

Shelby Coliva doesn't say she was raised in the woods by a pack of wolves, but it is partially true. Since she was a small child, he always took interest in the old gods of the Undergrove; specifically, Mother Wolf. By the time they were a teenager, they had successfully met Mother Wolf herself and had been granted support from the Undergrove's wolf packs. This led Shelby towards a more popular light, and she ended up being elected as the leader of the Undergrove (the youngest in the nation's history). When not busy with politics, he tries to learn as much as possible about his ancestry and native history, while also busying herself in gardening and exploring. While they are reserved on the outside, and may seem timid at first glance, they have a stubborn streak and will not tolerate anyone who disses or downplays her or her small nation.

Age: 37

Birthday: August 2, 3974

Height: 1'8bl (4'7", 140cm)

Gender: Genderfluid

Pronouns: she/he/they

Race: Gnome

Short, hardy, long-lived, and love the dirt.

Titles: Shubble, Shrub

She doesn’t like to give the other rulers his name.

A nickname given to them, considering their height and her home environment.

#enuode au #enuode au chref #enuode au chlor #empires au #empires smp #empires s1 #shubble #shubble fanart #empires shubble

[aemiron-main]

I think we should take back “Hollywood” from celebrities. Like. Cmon. That’s a whimsical name. “Holly Wood” is the type of place you would expect to find little gnomes and fairies and other gentle woodland creatures. “Hollywood Stars” should be a title reserved for the stars in the sky that the little Holly Wood tree sprites see when they gaze up at night. It sounds like the name of a fantasy forest in a children’s book. How am i supposed to take celebrities seriously when they’re from hollywood. I just immediately picture them as some sort of woodland creature. Like what do you mean you live in a trillion dollar mega mansion and not a cozy miniature mushroom house??? Why do you have a Lamborghini. Where is your quaint cobblestone path that leads into your snug woodland abode?? Why are you doing cocaine shouldnt you be popping out of a tree stump and telling me riddles or something?? Networking this connections that why aren’t you playing a little flute for me and whispering the songs you heard from the dewdrops this morning into my ear??? Why aren’t you a toad in a waistcoat??

#shitposts

[stardustedknuckles]

But what if Beau starts getting headaches working on her reports for too long, what if her perception is as sharp as ever but her eyes get less and less thrilled with research in low Reserve lighting and cramped handwriting from other monks - what if one day Dairon spots her rubbing her temples one too many times and sends her to have a chat with an affiliated artificer and Beau comes out with glasses. She makes jokes at the workshop and walks around with an exaggerated swagger and an insistence that they make her "hot as fuck" (which is how Dairon knows to check in with her, later) but she gets home and shuts the door and lets her shoulders drop and just... looks, here at the lenses in her hands. She's maybe thirty by this point and it's no secret that humans and gnomes are the most prone to the need for visual aid even in the daytime (Caleb got his pair within a year of Aeor's events) but even so, there's something vaguely embarrassing to her about it all - the sense of time eroding her abilities far too soon, the feeling she could've stopped it maybe, if she'd known it was happening sooner. A distant feeling of weakness, a pre-vulnerability and anxiety about change she can't control.

Maybe she can still talk to Caduceus about it, and that gives her at least enough hope to put them back on - right as Yasha walks in from the hallway with a greeting that lodges in her throat with a quiet, comical noise as she pauses to just stare. She tries again, manages something of a scrambled welcome without taking her eyes from Beau's face, and it slowly dawns on Beau as she steps closer, really gets a good look at the details in front of her, that there are perhaps factors and benefits to this situation she had overlooked. When Yasha pulls her close for a hungry kiss and immediately smudges the fuck out of those lenses, Beau's vague sense of chagrin lifts enough to think that maybe she could get used to this after all.

Beau gets glasses and Yasha is All About It is what I'm saying.

#beauyasha #I put my glasses on and I felt fucking old okay lol #I didn't dislike how I looked but it was a weird disorientation - a visual reminder of my disability #beauregard lionett #yasha #C2 C2 #At least it's the type of disability that is as socially accepted as it is visible #I feel like jester would wear ones without real lenses #Until they got wet at least lol #Nobody bring up the timeless body thing here okay read a room #It doesn't even have to technically count as an effect of aging #Especially if she'd had the issue before but it was just never enough to really bother her

[ravendruid]

I promise.

Spoilers for Campaign 3, Episode 65. My brain wouldn't shup up about the idea of Keyleth asking Bells Hells to save Vax from the orb, so I wrote this.

It hasn’t been that long since Orym left Zephrah for the last time, maybe a few months before he joined Bells Hells. Most things look the same, but there is a new feeling of unease and uncertainty in town. People whisper and look in the direction of the odd group, and a few children stop in awe, but no one approaches them. It’s not that Orym is unknown in town. It’s just that when once he was received with smiles and thanks for his efforts and fighting alongside the Blades to protect them and their leader, now he is regarded with sorrow and, by a small group of guards that patrol, some semblance of anger. 

The halfling’s step falters when the duo standing guard outside the Tempest’s house block the group’s entrance. He says his name, reminds them of his position and gives additional information on why he must seek an audience with her, but the guards don’t budge.

“You may enter, but they need to stay out,” One of them says.

Orym looks back at his friends. They aren’t known in Zephrah and their looks alone are enough to cause unease and distrust, either because of the old gnome with a feral look in his eyes; the faun lady whose gaze twinkles at dangling earrings and semi-hidden trinkets; the gold and green rock man with purple crystal hair, not to mention whatever the fuck is happening on his head; the Aeormaton, which by itself is already a rare sight; the half-dead woman that carries a wooden bird-house as a backpack—thank the gods Paté isn’t in view; or even Imogen, who would pass as the most common of them all, but who now has purple lightning spreading from her arms to her legs (and her partially covered chest). No. Orym understands. He gives his friends an apologetic look and nods at the guards who allow him inside. 

Not many people are allowed to visit the Tempest’s personal house. An honor usually reserved for the close-knit members of town, friends and family. Orym never dwelled on what it would look like inside, but as he steps in, he takes the cozy atmosphere, the smell of a variety of plants, herbs and soil, the books strewn about, the trinkets from all her travels, and… are those children’s toys? The house itself is not too large. The kitchen and living room are one single unit, and two doors lead to what Orym assumes to be two bedrooms. Sitting on a plush couch is an older man with long grey hair and deep green eyes that he recognizes as the Tempest’s father, Korrin. Orym bows, muttering a greeting to the man, who quickly stands as he notices the halfling. Korrin waves his hand with a chuckle, dismissing the formalities. 

“I—How is she?”

Korrin’s grimace at the question makes his stomach turn. “She’s—” Korrin sighs, rubbing his face with one hand. A small tear pools in the corner of his eye. “—stubborn. She won’t let the healers do their work. She’s alive, but it’s not a pretty sight,” he warns and Orym nods. The image of Otohan slashing and cutting through the Tempest’s prone body assails him, and he can’t help but wonder if the man standing in front of him knows the entire story of what happened in Marquet.

“May I talk to her? I have some information I would like to discuss with the Tempest, but if she isn’t fully recovered, I’ll—”

Orym doesn’t finish the sentence. One of the wooden doors suddenly opens to reveal a tall woman leaning on a staff. Orym drops to his knees with a silent sob. Keyleth, the woman he swore to protect with his life, is so small in her hunched form, pale with deep red gashes all over her arms, chest, and face. Korrin was right. It isn’t a pretty sight.

“Tempest,” His eyes water at the sight. 

“Orym,” Her voice is weaker and quieter, with so much fear and insecurity.

“Keyleth, dear,” Korrin walks over and wraps an arm around his daughter. She doesn’t shoo him away. Quite the opposite, she leans into him, supporting her weight on the man. 

“I heard you say you have information,” Her voice wavers. Orym nods, finally finding the strength to rise to his feet. 

“I do, Tempest. A lot has happened. My friends…” He turns his head back to the front door. Keyleth mutters something to Korrin that Orym can’t decipher, and the man helps her sit on a soft dark green armchair, fluffing some pillows behind her back and covering her slashed legs with a blanket. He then crosses the room, opening the front door to mutter a few words with the guards, and a few moments later, the odd group fills the small room. 

“I’m sorry I’m—” Keyleth gestures vaguely to herself before waving to the different seatings around the room. “Please, find yourselves somewhere to sit. Would you all like some tea?”

One by one, Bells Hells finds somewhere to sit. Imogen and Laudna press against each other on the sofa, leaving room for Orym to sit directly in sight of the red-haired woman; Chetney and Ashton find a dining chair each and turn it to face the group while Fearne opts to sit on the floor with FCG standing next to her. Somewhere in the kitchen behind them, Korrin busies himself filling a kettle and bringing down a set of mugs from a high cabinet.

“So,” Keyleth smiles gently, taking in the odd faces with a twinkle in her eye. Bells Hells look different from the last time she had the chance to actually talk to them when she brought the group to Whitestone—even if it had been in a rush. As her eyes pass over their faces, her breath falters when she lands on Laudna, the reason for such a rushed trip. Keyleth heard about the woman’s story and how their lives had been connected. She can’t help but feel the guilt build up inside her again. If it hadn’t been for Vox Machina, Laudna could have still been alive in Whitestone and not dead twice over. 

“Miss Tempest?” The robotic voice of the yellow Aeormaton brings Keyleth back to the group in front of her as Laudna fumbles in her seat. She averts her gaze to her lap, twisting and turning her hands on her skirts. 

“I’m sorry,” Keyleth apologizes with a soft smile, unsure of what to say next. She can’t exactly voice her thoughts: your friend has a strong resemblance to my sister. Or I’m sorry I was responsible for your death. 

“You mentioned you had information?” She opts to say instead.

Orym nods, having Keyleth’s full attention on him. The halfling recounts the events since they last saw each other at the Malleus Key. He shares all information they have discovered, and once finished, Imogen takes his place in recounting the other half of the group’s events, mentioning the magic items and research they found in Ludinus’s tower in Mollaesmyr. Keyleth drinks in their words, smiling at the mention of exploding goats and fighting angels—not so much at the idea of followers of Pelor trying to take control over a village. She still remembers her days as an adventurer—has it really been thirty years? Vesper is already a grown woman, so it has to be—and hearing the younger group’s tales brings her joy.

“...and that’s when I heard it, the screaming atop the Malleus Key,” Orym finishes retelling the vision the Matron gave him, much to Keyleth’s horror. 

“No!” Keyleth stands upright, the blanket pooling at her feet. “No, he—” She starts pacing the room, followed by Korrin, whose arms are extended to grab her if she falls.

“Who is he?” Imogen asks. “We saw him briefly, we saw him come to your rescue, and then he was—”

Keyleth’s green eyes focus on her, fiery with rage but also full of sorrow.

“He’s—He was—He…” Keyleth trembles slightly as she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before continuing. “He is the champion of the Matron.”

The group looks at each other and then back at the tall woman. Orym recognizes the sorrow in her eyes. He was someone very dear to her, maybe as much as Will was to him. Orym wants to ask more about the feathery figure, but he tables it for later. Instead, he offers up the rest of the information they gathered just before traveling to Zephrah, “It seems like Ludinus is on Ruidus, and possibly the only way to travel to and from Exandria is using the beacon that connects—”

Orym doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t have to once Keyleth nods, understanding what’s between the lines: they need Vax to stay where he is, suffering, so they can defeat the archmage. As much as it pains Orym—and Keyleth—they know it has to be this way but, at the same time, they exchange a silent look. The woman stands, supporting her weight onto her staff, and walks towards the back door. Korrin stumbles to go after her, but she waves him dismissively, beckoning Orym to walk with her instead. The halfling does so, jumping from the plush couch and running to keep up with her long legs as they walk through the soft pebbled path of her backyard, a multitude of flowers and plants greeting them.

“Orym,” Keyleth turns to face the halfling, bending slowly to sit on a stone bench underneath the canopy of trees that partially cover the path. 

“Tempest,” Orym bows slightly. Keyleth chuckles and waves a hand at him.

“Please, call me Keyleth. There is no more need for formalities between you and me.”

He nods, blushing slightly at the request. 

“I remember how brave you were years ago, when—” Keyleth trails her gaze on the halfling, swallowing hard as she remembers the attack perpetrated on her, the one that killed her best sword and his son, rendering the kind man in front of her a widow. “I—I never thanked you for that. You lost so much that day, and I—”

“Keyleth,” Orym’s voice is soft and kind, and it melts with the tears that fall down his cheeks. “You don’t have to thank me. I did what I had to do to ensure your safety, and I would do it a million times over.”

It’s Keyleth’s turn to blush and release a twinkling tear. “Still,” she whispers, afraid the wind will carry her words to undeserving ears. “You lost someone very dear to you because of me. And—”

“The champion,” Orym smiles in recognition. She nods. “You love him.”

“Until my last dying breath.”

“We will save him, I promise.” Orym places a hand in hers, focusing his look on her green eyes. “I promise Temp—Keyleth. As soon as we are done with Ludinus himself, as soon as we have a chance: we will save him. Bring him back to you.”

“No,” she lowers her head in shame. “You cannot bring him to me. He must return to Her.”

“The Matron?” Orym is confused. He doesn’t know much about the gods, but he has heard some champions of the gods walk the Material Plane, so why wouldn’t he? 

Keyleth nods, and when she speaks, her voice wavers and burns like a thousand shards cutting skin, “His place is with Her. Not with me. Never with me.”

“Key—”

“Not yet,” she interrupts him, burying her head in her hands. “Not yet. It’s too soon. It’s not supposed to be like this.”

Orym places his hands on her shoulders, feeling the pain of the memory of when he saw Will again. He knows what she means. It’s not time for them to reunite, either. They still have a long path ahead and a world to save. 

“I'll save him, I promise.”

#critical role #cr fic #bells hells #vaxleth #keyleth is in pain and so am I #please someone save the vorb #I think this is my first time actually writing Bells Hells. Please do not hate me if anything is out of character or canon divergent.

[lunastrophe]

Nere Death Experiences, Chapter 4

Tav x True Soul Nere, because why not? Slow burn. Smuttiness reserved for later chapters. Attempts at taking a deeper dive into characters' traits, personalities and development. Some liberties taken with the game's plot and characters' lines.

🖊️ AO3 link - Chapter 4

Chapter Summary: Mind meld with Nere, extended edition. Tav begins to get better understanding of who she is dealing with. And it gives her a headache.

General Summary:

This was meant to be a simple operation. She planned to cross the lake, reach the Grymforge and infiltrate the absolutists' camp, using her tadpole and her drow appearance to her advantage - just like in the goblin camp back on the surface.

Too late she realized what she was getting herself into. Now, doing her best to pass for a True Soul, she needs to figure out how to deal with angry mercs, confused cultists, enslaved gnomes, stubborn rubble and Nere… and how to keep the drow alive long enough to get the information she wants.

Because for now, it looks like the fate itself wants him dead.

#nere #true soul nere #true soul nere x tav #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fic