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sxmmer-cherry · 20 hours

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❝UH-OH, THERE'S A PROBLEM, BABY!❞

♰ OVERTURE — irresponsibility is a vice. but isn't making mistakes a part of human nature? well, let's say something of the similar nature takes place when you're booking hotels for your vacation get-away; a minor mistake ends up in you booking a love-making hotel instead of a regular, kid-friendly one. how do they react?

♰ FEATURING — all sumeru men.

♰ NOTES — guys help i don't know how to write al haitham but i tried😭suggestive, flirty and spicy like i like it <3 ngl though this is just peak rizz all the way lmao🤭

wanderer retains his analytical gaze from before, going through his mini bag with a slightly pissed off look on his features.

his indifference is so baffling that you're left with the tiniest suspicion that in his quest to find his phone's charger, he hasn't even listened to what you had to say at all. and with the lingering thought you poke the side of his arm, carefully examining his features to ensure you could shut up before the visage of anger overtook.

'did you listen, love?', you call out gently, in a soft voice, voice barely above a whisper and he breaks out of his reverie, looking up at you with a distracted gaze.

'oh, yeah, i did.' he goes back to his bag as he sorts the wires out and nods as he speaks with nonchalance, 'you accidentally booked the wrong hotel? and it's quite expensive so we must stay here for the vacations,'

you are quick to nod, 'yeah, that. i'm really sorry, i should have let you book the hotel and reservations. i really just wanted to help—'

he rolls his eyes with the most amount of nonchalance he had ever mustered before snatching the keys to the room from your hands and quickly opening the door.

he pulls the bags in, and allows you to rest on the bed (and ponder what he about to say next, or rather, what he didn't say at all).

but he is quick to kill your overthinking state, passing you a thoughtful look.

'i mean, we didn't come for a whole vacation for me to not have any fun at all. booking such a hotel...' he looks around with a smirk, before meeting your eyes again, 'is only going to make everything all the more easier, no?'

and in your flustered state, red with embarrassment and looking away with a shy expression, you do not expect it when he pins you to the bed with a sharp push.

'you would have had to keep your mouth shut, wouldn't you, dove? at least you can scream to your heart's content here.'

cyno... has few words to speak. he looks up at you, familiar with the name of the love hotel. when your eyes meet, he almost laughs at the furious blush around your ears and then shakes his head with a sigh.

'a minor mistake, yet a common one indeed.'

'i'm sorry,' you say, voice barely audible against the loud of the hotel's entry.

no doubt—the hotel was more fancy than the imagination could entirely comprehend, and affordable too at that! nothing off the charts, and cyno trusted your sense of aesthetics too. with a swimming pool, luxurious king sized beds, an indoor club and even an indoor arcade of it's own, it was an obvious choice for you.

considering how excited you were back then, on second thought, maybe you shouldn't actually do things when you're too happy; you give yourself a mental note.

when cyno begins slinging the bag on his side and taking the trolley bag, you hold his hand in a hesitant motion; he turns to you with a confused gaze, brows lifted in an investigating gesture.

'let's go somewhere else, please.'

your words are something he has rehearsed in his head thrice, already. and he smiles when he realizes that he was right on point with his intuition. of course you would say that; you were a shy, reserved yet dignified person. you wouldn't have ever gone to a love hotel, even if you actually had that intent.

and when you didn't? god forbid, somebody tries to take you there.

but he sees the way you slightly hesitate, trying not to display your discomfort too much and plead to his softer side, trying to convince him somehow. he smiles at your considerate act before chuckling gently; gaze gentle in it's wake.

'we can go somewhere else if you want to, but wouldn't you say quite a lot of money will go to waste?'

you nodded slowly before sighing, shaking your head at your irresponsible behaviour. time to put on the big girl panties and take the blow of the situations that you put yourself in, you thought to yourself.

cyno, however, develops a more mischievous smile.

'what?' you end up asking him, genuinely confused before he whispers in your ear—

'don't be too sad, lovely. we may enter two, but who knows? perhaps we leave three?'

kaveh coughs slightly, trying not to choke on the water that he is drinking when his gaze scans the insides of the hotel.

you shuffle your feet and idly fixate on the newspaper stand in the distance, pretending as though you did not know what was up.

'but you said you booked a slightly wrong hotel? this is slightly wrong?'

you cleared your throat before shrugging, trying to be nonchalant about it. 'i mean, remove the slightly, i guess then.'

'you guess?' kaveh asks with a baffled look on his features, disbelief washing over his features like a tide. he turns to walk towards the receptionist to take the keys with a roll of his eyes, 'god save mankind from whatever you consider as a huge mistake.'

you click your tongue before trotting behind him shyly, less confident now that you finally began looking around and spotted people who were way more comfortable in their skin than you would ever be.

your gaze scans the swimming pool outside, women and men enjoying the sunshine and the water and each others bodies with more enthusiasm than you could imagine.

it is only when a man winks at you with a suggestive smile on his features that you turn to kaveh abruptly, holding the edge of his shirt with a nervous disposition.

he pockets his keys before turning to you with a confused gaze, 'what is it?'

you gulp slightly, shaking your head. 'nothing, uh, a man was staring at me inappropriately.'

he looks at you up and down before letting his lips shape a lop-sided grin, 'want me to help with that problem?'

'how so?'

'people don't set their eyes on land which clearly says—'no trespassing', darling.'

al haitham looks once at the room, thrice at you and then blinks.

'what's wrong?' he asks, as if he genuinely doesn't know what's wrong. you scoff.

'everything.'

he ends up rolling his eyes before pulling you inside the hotel room, softly clicking the door lock before he followed.

'start arranging the clothes; it's a month long vacation, you don't want to spend the entire time struggling to find that one designer—'

'al haitham, come on, stop pretending as though nothing's wrong. let's just go somewhere else!', you say, voice whiny and brows furrowed in an irritated manner. what do you even call this kind of behaviour? how ignorant could he be?

his hands immediately fold, and he almost reminds you of your mom when she is angry; though you maintain your serious look and stand up to him, nonetheless.

'and what's the problem, princess?'

'well!' you say, in an exaggerated motion, pointing to the entire room—

dim lights that were suggestive of only one thing as they sensually illuminated the silk sheets on the round, king sized bed. rose petals decorated the sheets and three drawers begged for your attention at the side of the bed; you didn't even have to go and open them to know what was in there.

'when my family asks me for photos, you expect me to show this to them?'

he shrugs, 'why would you share pictures of the hotel room, of all things?', then he squints, 'i think the problem lies elsewhere.'

you roll your eyes aggressively, although meaning no offense. 'yes, mr genius; this is a love-hotel, that's why i don't want to stay here.'

he clicks his tongue against the inside of his cheek before shaking his head with a sigh, 'well, what's done is done. not like we're not going to have any intimate moment throughout our trip. this makes it all the more easier for us to—'

al haitham doesn't have to think too hard about your response to his obvious flirtation when a pillow hits him square in the face; although he does end up laughing when he stands back up again to find you hiding in the sheets with the now messed up bed due to your recklessness.

'you're still acting like such a kid,' he speaks, teasing you to get a rise out of you before adding on—

'how are you going to take of our kids, at this rate?'

tighnari maintains neutrality to an extent where you begin doubting if he finds this funny, stupid, anger-invoking or worse—all of that, in the same order.

if ambiguity was a maiden, she had draped her thin veil over his expression and aura, hiding his true feelings on the matter. though you do debate whether you're just overthinking, too. honestly, it's just a bit of a mistake, right? and the hotel's quite pretty too—there should be little problems, right?

wrong.

and a simple glance of the room is enough to enlighten you on the matter.

a massive chandelier hangs from the ceiling, and a mirror is attached to the ceiling wall, making everything visible; added for obvious reasons. next to the bedpost are aphrodisiacs and small, colourful packets about the nature of which you don't have to think much.

tighnari who was walking behind you, ends up peaking over from your shoulder and giving you a curious look.

'what is it? come on in,' and he steps inside, pulling the trolley bag with himself, before he turned back again to look at you when you don't budge from your spot.

he titles his head gently, ears moving with the motion, almost making you swoon. 'why aren't you coming in?' his voice comes to you and you sigh, softly ruffling your hair.

'you don't have to pretend, nari.' you say, gaze scanning his features to search for any change in his expression, only to fail when he showed nothing at all. what a master manipulator.

'pretend about what?'

'that you're okay with this.'

silence.

laughter blooms like a lotus opening under the sun, almost catching you off guard at the intensity and beauty of it. you end up blushing, thoroughly unsure of what he truly meant.

'come on idiot,' he calls to you, pulling you inside the room by your wrist, smile never leaving his features.

'you're confused because you can't understand what i really think?', he asks, gaze twinkling with mischeif.

you nod and his grin widens.

'well, darling dearest, i was just excited to try this out, but i couldn't have showed it, could i?', your blush intensifies at that, eyes widening in surprise before he continued.

'i mean, who knows? maybe we stumble across a secret chapter in our novel of love, no?'

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cannedpickledpeaches · 1 day

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Insert Your Name (11)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to part one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!

Notes and TW: Congratulations! You have successfully made it all about you (positive). This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Sorry that the tags haven't been working for the past couple of posts! I had to go in and edit the html for each individual one T-T please forgive me

Tags: @guava-enjoyer @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol @night-shadowblood-writes2 @haveneulalie @owodi

A strange sense of satisfaction fills you as surprise fills the man’s face, but you don’t show it. You need to see this through. If you’re powerless in the face of his ability, you simply need to borrow his power. So what if he’s akin to a god? All you need to do is bring him to your side. Whoever that author is, whoever took over (Y/N)’s body—maybe they aren’t capable of using such an asset effectively. However, you’re confident you won’t let that advantage go to waste.

The man hums in thought. “I suppose it could be done without much fanfare. I would simply need to shift my attention to your experiences and abandon the current story. However, you would need to have your story recorded somewhere, in whatever form you may wish for it to take.”

You understand what he’s getting at. A story needs a medium, just like that manuscript. There are many options: on film, as a novel, as a collage of pictures. No strict rules exist for expression of self.

“I’ll keep a journal. Every day, I’ll write an entry, and I’ll also use it as a planner. This way, my ‘story’ will have the events that occurred in my life, how they affected my ‘character development,’ and also outline how I expect the story to ‘progress.’ Is that good enough?”

You still don’t think of yourself as a fictional character. You’re real, in every aspect, to yourself. But that doesn’t matter right now. Functionally, you’re a character to this man. You’ll use that assumption to put yourself in the most advantageous position.

“Yes, that would be a rather interesting way to tell your story. There are indeed many stories that were written in the form of diary entries, so this is not an issue at all. This would, in fact, make things easier for me. I would not have to go through the paperwork and expend energy to bring someone from another world since you already exist in Twisted Wonderland as an established character. There is just one thing you should know before you make this decision.”

“Tell me.” Of course there are strings attached. There always are. You prepare yourself. Self-sacrifice in small amounts is necessary, of course, but if there’s anything you can negotiate with . . . .

“I will have to take the previous author’s soul out of (Y/N)’s body. (Y/N)’s soul will regain control of her own body, since it was never removed, only dormant. Since the author’s original body cannot function without a soul, she cannot return to her world. It will disappear, never to be recovered, lost to the fabric of what forms this space. Are you still willing to proceed?”

“Is that it?” You expected something else. This has nothing to do with you giving up anything. In fact, it could even be considered a bonus. This woman whose story made your life and relationships exceedingly difficult will disappear down to the traces of her soul. It’s an easy decision. “Of course.”

“How cold-hearted you are.” He chuckles down at his teacup. It never seems to drain empty no matter how he sips it. “That is not an undesirable quality in protagonists, although they often do not have a happy ending in fairytales.”

“Is that supposed to deter me or something?” You stay resolute. “My future was always uncertain no matter if it’s a story or not. I’m in the mafia. I’ve come to terms that horrible things could happen at any moment because of the nature of my job a long, long time ago. It’s my responsibility to plan so that I reduce those chances as much as possible. And you’re going to help me.”

“Yes, I am.” He glances at the fireplace, which has burned down to glowing red embers. “Perhaps you should count yourself lucky that you are under my jurisdiction. I am partial to tragic endings, but I also do not mind if an amoral character triumphs in the end. Some of my peers would adamantly ensure it does not happen.”

You furrow your brows. This is not the first time he brought up something being under his “jurisdiction.” However, this is the first time he’s mentioned “peers” instead of “characters.”

“There are others like you?”

“Yes, of course. Twisted Wonderland is filled with too many stories for me to manage on my own. Since you are mainly involved with the Leech Mafia and stories of the Coral Sea, you fall under my jurisdiction.”

It makes sense. This man compared himself to a god, but he isn’t one. He isn’t omnipotent or omniscient.

“Who are they?”

He tilts his head. “You would not know us even if I told you.”

“I’m curious. Tell me anyway.”

“Such a curious character.” He glances at the embers again. “Alright, I see no harm in it. My peers overseeing Twisted Wonderland include Walt Disney, the Brothers Grimm, Hanna Diyab, Victor Hugo, and Lewis Carroll, among others.”

None of these names ring a bell. It is just a list of names, but having more information is never a bad thing.

“And your name? I should know how to address you.”

“Oh, I have not yet introduced myself to you? My apologies, I must be turning forgetful in my old age.” He laughs at himself in a good-natured manner. “My name is Hans Christian Anderson. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

You introduce yourself as well. He extends a hand to you. When your hands connect in a firm handshake, the new deal you’ve made feels solidified.

Anderson looks at the fireplace one more time. The light has died completely, the little room lit only by the moonlight pouring in the window. With a gentle but decisive clap of his hands, he stands from his armchair.

“That was a fruitful discussion, and I thank you for your patience and understanding. I fear time has run out, however, and so I will be sending you back shortly. I’ll place you right back where you came from: at the moment when I brought you here.”

“Hold on!” Too soon, too sudden. You still have so much to say. He holds up a hand, stopping your protests.

“If you’d like to communicate with me, simply write a request for it in your new journal. I wish you best of luck.”

And with that, the world goes white again.

This is the story of a girl whose name is no longer hers. A girl so common that she may as well be a faceless background character in another person’s story. A girl who wishes, more than anything, to be the protagonist of a love story that will sweep her off her feet and solve all her problems.

Her family is normal. Her friends, too. And so is she. It isn’t enough for her. The world inside that game she plays is so magical, so whimsical, so perfect. The characters are handsome, powerful, clever, funny, or rich, or some combination of those qualities. If she enters this world, surely all those wonderful characters would treat her as someone special. They’d love and revere her unconditionally. She pines for a man who would love her and her shortcomings in their entirety, no matter what she does.

The beauty about fictional characters is that because they are fictional, they can be whatever she wants them to be. She can wholeheartedly believe they’ll love her, and there is nothing wrong with that. But she isn’t satisfied with that alone. It needs to be real.

Desperately, she writes a story revolving around a faceless, flawless main character who she desperately wishes she could be. Everyday, the writing consumes her, dragging her into a fantasy of bliss. She begins to resent her reality. Nobody in real life will love her the correct way. Nobody can be as good as the characters she pours her love and headcanons on. She doesn’t consider how love can be gradual, nor does realize someone might have to get to know her before loving her. After all, in her fanfiction, the perfect mafioso loves her main character upon the first meeting and devotes himself with no questions asked. Isn’t that the ideal love?

One day, a miracle occurs. She meets a man who offers to make her story into her reality. Jumping on the chance to live her perfectly crafted life of happiness, she agrees. Finally. Finally, she will be loved the way she wants.

At first, everything went perfectly. Real life follows her fanfiction to the letter. Jade is charming, Floyd is endearing, and a string of coincidences leads her to meet Vil, another handsome bachelor. Love surrounds her at every turn. All she needs in this life are the handsome men who give her special treatment. After all, this body, this life—(Y/N)—was created by her, for her use. All of the previous relationships this body entertained no longer matter. They aren’t hers, anyway.

The polaroids that occupied her nightstand are probably in a landfill somewhere. The aesthetic was cute, befitting the tastes of a character she modelled after herself, but the person in them is irrelevant. Some side character she’s never going to see again. No matter; she’ll eventually replace those polaroids with cute photos of herself and her new love. (Y/N)—no, the placeholder—has served its purpose. It will not miss those useless decorations since it will never again have its own consciousness.

So where did it all go wrong? Perhaps it was wrong from the start. She should have cursed that old man for scamming her. Her happy ending was never a guarantee. How dare a throwaway side character upend her perfect, fairy tale ending? Is that even allowed? They’re all just characters anyway. How can they steal from a real person?

Until the very end, she couldn’t see anyone around her as anything other than characters in a story. Maybe if she did, she might have gotten the love she wanted. Now, she disappears, having never achieved the goal she so desperately grasped at. Like seafoam, her hopes and yearning for love bubbles and disappears.

Hans Christian Anderson places a book into an empty spot on one of his many shelves. He has always been fond of tragedies. As for this new story that’s unfolding . . . who’s to say how it will end? He’s a patient man. With a smile, he settles into an armchair and sips from a cup of tea. He’s looking forward to it. When it eventually ends, like all stories inevitably do, he’ll shelve it and find another story to bring to life.

The world suddenly flashes into focus. The sun’s dying embers flicker on the sea. Sand shifts between your toes. Fingers graze your neck. Before you can activate your Signature Spell, (Y/N) crashes into you and you both topple over into a bed of sand. Bloodlust raises the hairs on the back of your neck. But it isn’t coming from (Y/N). Instead, you instinctively wrap one arm around her and hold the other one out in front of you, shielding her from Jade.

“Wait, wait! Jade, it’s fine. I’m okay.”

He freezes. One of his hands stops a centimeter away from (Y/N)’s hair. She doesn’t react. Slowly, you lay back down, heaving a sigh. You shift her face to the side so that she doesn’t suffocate in your shoulder. Her eyelashes flutter against her cheekbones, complementing the slow rise and fall of her ribs.

“See? She’s asleep.”

Jade furrows his brows. “I fail to understand. Most importantly, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah.” You chuckle, staring up at the stars that unveil themselves in the darkening sky. “I’m just a little tired.”

You explain everything to him. He seems skeptical, but eventually, he accepts it. He sits in the sand next to you, his hand covering yours. You pretend not to notice, but it offers a soothing calm to your exhausted mind.

“I’m sorry,” you say, glancing at his side profile. “Even if I write that Vil Schoenheit will cure your parents, it might not happen because of continuity issues. Maybe (Y/N) will still be able to convince him.”

“That’s alright.” He catches your gaze. “It would make the story progress more smoothly if we continue with our talks with Walrus.”

He accepted it so quickly. For that matter, so did you. You wonder briefly if there is something at play that makes you accept the reality of your situation as fact—if it’s because you’re a character after all—but that’s all speculation. Not worth your time and energy to figure out.

“Bottom line is, this is my story now. So I’ll make sure the curse on your parents is dispelled.”

“How reliable.” Jade gives you a gentle smile, one that causes an unfamiliar stirring in your chest. “Thank you. What would you like in recompense?”

You weren’t expecting him to offer anything at all. But since he offered, you aren’t one to refuse.

“Money.”

His quiet laughter blends in with the sound of rushing waves.

“No hesitation at all, I see. Of course, I will pay you adequately for your invaluable help.”

“I also want something else.” You fiddle with the strands of (Y/N)’s hair. “I’d like a vacation. Just a week or two after everything settles down so I can go back to my hometown with my mom.”

“Is that what the money is for?”

“Yeah.” Your heart feels a little lighter. “You should visit the Coral Sea after your parents wake up as well. I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with them.”

A pause. You scrutinize Jade’s expression in the low light, but his expression is wholly unfamiliar to you. He almost looks . . . nervous.

“Would you come with us?”

You blink. “Don’t you want to spend time with just your family?”

“Yes, but my parents would be delighted to have you over again. You have not been to our home under the sea in a long time, and I would be more than happy to show you around again.”

“It won’t be a bother?”

“Far from it.” His thumb rubs softly against the back of your hand. “I . . . We are very fond of you.”

You can’t help but think there’s an ulterior motive, but you accept. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve travelled to their home under the sea, and this most likely won’t be the last.

Suddenly, (Y/N) shifts on your chest. A soft noise escapes her lips as though she’s finally awakened from a long nap. Her bleary eyes find yours. Kind, lovely, and gentle eyes. The eyes of the (Y/N) you know and love, the eyes of your friend.

“Huh? Are we on the beach? What happened?”

A relieved laugh bubbles out of your throat and you hug her tightly. Confused but sweet, she reciprocates with reassuring pats to your arm.

“Yeah, we’re on the beach. Let’s get you home.” You sit up and smile as she fusses over the sand in your hair. Normalcy is slowly but surely returning. “I’ll tell you everything on the way there.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #jade leech #twst x reader #twst jade #twst fanfic #jade leech x reader #mafia au #multi chap fic #slow burn

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eggyrocks · 10 hours

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hi! #71 (second list) with suna rintarou pls? thank you!

this one i am very very excited abt

500 followers special: #71 “Kiss me, quick!”

suna x gn reader, fake dating trope, parties, drinking, not smut but kinda slutty, suna is slightly possessive/possessive language is used, not proofread

written content masterlist

Suna's nursing a bottle of beer. He's leaned up against the living room wall at a stranger's house and he looks just as bored as he always does. "This is stupid."

They're in the middle of emptying a shot glass down their throat when he speaks, and once they straighten out, throat still burning, they say, voice thick with a slick coating of alcohol, "Well, you already agreed, so no backing out now."

On the opposite side of the room, stands their ex. Tall and handsome and a complete fucking dickhead. Just the sight of them makes their teeth grind together. The sound of their laughter ringing across the room is worse.

Suna notices this. He notices the way the tense up, lip furled up in disgust and frozen into place like a hissing cat. He takes a swig of his beer before he speaks. “I don’t know why you’re bothering to make him jealous if you hate him so much.”

They’re fidgety, smoothing out the front of their jeans with sweaty palms and trying not to look over in their ex’s direction. They give Suna a too-sweet-to-be-real smile. “Because. I don’t want to make him jealous so he wants me again. I want to make his jealous so it hurts his fucking feelings.”

He scoffs, and gives him a half-hearted eye roll, but offers nothing as a rebuttal, except another gulp of his beer as they lean against the wall beside him, closer than they usually would.

They blink up at him. "Is he looking? Can you tell?"

"Nope," he answers easily without having to turn his head. Suna'll know. He's felt those stares on the back of his head plenty of times before while they were dating.

It's obvious to Suna why it has to be him, out of all their friends. Because their shit ex (whose name he can't remember and never bothered to learn) never liked him, never trusted him, caused arguments over him. Their ex was obsessed with him, convinced that Suna wanted what was his.

And so what if he was right.

They groan, bottom lip out in a pout. "He was staring at me nonstop like twenty minutes ago."

"Cause you look good in that outfit," he says. "Probably planning on trying to get you back."

"Fat fuckin' chance," they chuckle.

They want to look over, want to see if he's looking yet, because they know he will be, eventually. Nervous energy has them bouncing on their heels. "Just relax," Suna tells them, leaning in closer, placing his free hand over the curve of their neck. The contact makes goosebumps erupt over their skin. "He's glanced over a couple times," he says, much softer now, "I'll tell you when he's looking."

Suna's close now, much closer than they're used to, intense eyes not leaving their face. The proximity makes their throat feel dry, and the nerves that bundle in their gut multiple.

His touch is light, and, for some reason, it makes their skin burn. His fingers on their neck and the intensity of his stare, for just a fraction of a second, makes them forget exactly what they're here at this stupid party to do.

Suna grins when he says, "He's looking now."

And it snaps them back into reality. "Fuck okay, kiss me, quick!" they command, trying to keep the panic they feel in their chest from leaking into their voice.

They can already feel the heat from Suna's breath fan across their face from how close he is, but when he lets his eyes flutter shut, they are frozen in place, eyes still wide open.

He leans in slowly, not at all rushing like they asked him to. His nose bumps into theirs, lightly knock their head back, giving him easier access to their lips. The lowest part of their gut clenches, and suddenly the noise in the room feels like a distant buzz.

Suna's eyes are still closed. His hand creeps up their neck to spread his fingers out among the roots of their hair. "You want me to?" he asks.

And they're not sure what exactly it is that Suna's asking. But they know that, no matter what the question really means, the answer is yes. They give him a nod in confirmation, not trusting their voice.

He is so agonizingly close it makes every inch of their skin radiate heat. "Not good enough," he whispers, just for them to hear. "Say it out loud for me, so I know you mean it."

They swallow. "I want you to kiss me," they manage without stuttering.

Suna's in no rush. He chuckles, eyes opening up for a second to take in their blown out pupils and slightly parted lips. And it's only after he takes a moment to savor that sight that he tightly grips at the roots of their hair, pulling their head back slightly, and leans in to kiss them.

Suna does not kiss them in a way that's meant to make someone else jealous. He kisses them in a way that's meant to mark his territory. In a way that lets everyone around them now, this person is his, no one else's.

It makes their head dizzy, like they've run out of blood, and now they're too weak in the knees to stand upright on their own, so they have to grip tightly onto the front of Suna's shirt, just so they don't collapse.

And maybe this was part of their ulterior motive, an outcome that they were silently hoping for when they asked Suna for help and begged him just to play along. But they were not expected it to be anything like this.

Suna pulls away, eliciting a small whine from them that makes him smirk. "Do you think it worked?" he asks, hand still tangled in the back of their hair.

They blink up at him, chest heaving and slightly breathless. "Did what work?"

an: hope u enjoy <3333

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu #hq x you #hq #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro imagine #suna x reader #suna x you #suna x y/n #500 follower special

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frostwing213 · 6 hours

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I keep getting a lot of Elain stuff popping up on my dash. Mostly about shipping, and I'm like:

How'd this girl end up in a love triangle????

People are very opiniated too, fighting over and making essays about it. There's Elain/Az and Elain/Lucien (There's also Az and Gwen, but I understand how Az got in a love triangle.)

I'm just, struggling to care. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate Elain, I just find her kinda boring. She doesn't do much. She feels like that classic fairytale princess that looks pretty and sad in a tower.

Off the top of my head, these are things that define her (Without being linked to men, becase I'm not there yet. Plus, a female character should be able to stand on her own without the men in her life)

She gardens and is primiarily associaed with flowers

Pretty

Nice

Weak

She kinda killed the king of Hyburn

Didn't want to be a fae

kinda wishy washy

Achreon sister

Quiet

Her sisters want to protect her

Future seeing powers

And I'm out of ideas. From my point of view, she doesn't have any discernable personality. Her three major defining things when people think of her are: Pretty, flowers, soft.

She doesn't act for herself, she doesn't speak up. She goes with what happens and gets sad when she doesn't like it. (Becoming a fae was traumatic, and I understand her reaction, but I don't really like it. AND I HAVEN'T EVeN TOUCHED ON THE GREYSON[was that the human dude's name???]THING YET!)

So, when the books start, early ACOTAR. Archeron sisters are in the woods. Feyre is the only one doing something to support the family. Who is Elain in this book? Pretty gardener. Delicate. She isn't doing anything. Some can argue Nesta isn't either, and as a Nesta Supremist, I have to say she was willing to get married to someone cruel to make it easier on her family, and although that isn't much, it's still something. What does Elain do in this book? Be pretty. Please, someone give me an example of Elain doing something constructive and I will edit it in. Please.

Moving on. Next book. She... hosts the house along with Nesta. Oh! She's engaged to a fae hating guy (Who i think is named Greyson. I can't remember and I'm currently loaning out my 2nd and 3rd book, so I can't check rn). Uh.... I don't remember if she does anything else until the end, where she is captured and dumped in the caldron. We find out Lucien is her mate. EDIT!: As @devi1sange1 pointed out to me, Elain did stand up to Nesta about using their house as a meeting spot for the queens. She also takes responisblty for how they treated Feyre. 2 points for Elain. I give her those

She shows up more after that, so I'm not doing book by book, but she gets dumped fast by her fiancé and hangs out in the house of wind, being very sad. I almost wanna describe her as floaty, because she's acting like a ghost, just existing and mourning what is gone. This is a vaild response, and I understand why she responds this way, it just annoys me because she has not shown any autonomy so far. Anything. I think I remember her asking her ex-fiance to take in humans, but that was after being pushed by the inner circle. Uh... she gives a few prophecies, yay that. When the fighting starts, she stays on the sidelines, which I don't blame her for. She kinda kills the king of Hyburn. I think that's all she does in that.

After that. What does she do? Other than hang around??? I DON'T KNOW!

Elain shows no real drive! She exists and sometimes does stuff to push the plot!

Now onto the (possible) romantic interests she has.

Greyson: Uhhhhh, they like each other. She likes her because she's sweet and pretty. I didn't catch anything else between these two. Uh, he dumps her as soon as she's fae and she gets depressed over it

Lucien: Mating bond. She doesn't like him, I get it. He tries to back off. I think Lucien acts responsibly in this situation. Elain is at no fault in this situation either. Mating bonds don't always pair up the most romantic pair, and it doesn't always work out well. Honestly, I never saw much chemistry between these two, and if not for the bond, they likely would have forever ignored each other.

Azriel: (Random, but I searched him up on tumblr because I couldn't remember how to spell his name, and WOW, there's a lot of Azriel x reader. Yall really 'like' him) How, just how did this become such a popular ship? I never even caught this on my read through. Yeah, Az is nice to her, but he's nice to anyone considered friendly. He's just as nice to Feyre and I don't see anyone shipping those two. I just... don't get it. Is it because we want the sisters paired up with the bat boys? Is that it?? I don't understand. I see no chemistry. It's just two people being nice to one another guys.

I think those are the major ones. I don't understand any of them. Lucien and Az are such powerful charters, while Elain is... 'pretty flower girl'.

I don't hate her, but she kinda annoys me with how much crazines she's getting with people shipping her. Wanna know what i think would be great? She ends up with no one romantically. She has friends, just no romantic partner and that is perfectly fine. Lucien will live. If there's nothing between Az and Gwen, then Az will live.

To wrap up, I find Elain to be a pretty boring charter, I just feel indifferent towards her. I love the other two siblings, but I feel like Elin could have been improved.

Feel free to talk to me about this! Throw out your own opinions! Give me edvince that supports or opposes any of my points! Correct me on stuff and ignore my spelling!

I love a good debate! Give me one! Please.

Interact with me.

Edit!: Thanks for interacting! I swear I'm reading everything! I just didn't expect this to blow up so fast!

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headkiss · 7 hours

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ooh ooh okay, maybe in the single thread universe where either reader or steve has a nightmare about losing the other from the canon-type violence and it's like comfort. feel free to ignore if you don't like it, thank u and love u 🫶

hi my love thank u so much for this req i missed writing these two <3 i hope you like it!!! steve’s the one with the nightmare in this one | 0.6k hurt/comfort and fluff (this takes place in the single thread universe!)

Although you and Steve only live across the hall from each other, you split your time between the two apartments, though you’re rarely separated from each other when you can help it.

Nights are often spent at his place, him kissing you goodbye before slipping out the window and swinging off to his nightly patrol, you staying awake with a book in your lap until he comes home no matter how much he insists you get some sleep.

You fall asleep easier when he’s beside you, anyways. Where you can feel him, safe and breathing.

Tonight’s a little different. Steve slipped through the window quietly when he got back—uninjured, this time—from patrol. For once, you’d fallen asleep while he was out, though you tried not to, if the open book still on your lap says anything.

He shut the window and locked it, pulling his mask off and smiling at the sight of you amongst his sheets, like you’ve belonged there all along. Steve bookmarked your page before setting your book onto the nightstand that’s now been claimed as yours, shutting off the small lamp that sits there, too.

He showered and changed quickly, eager to lay down beside you and gather you up into his arms, your warmth surrounding him. He falls asleep with the smell of your shampoo filling his senses.

It’s also a little different because a couple of hours later, you’re woken up by Steve’s shout of your name, his chest heaving against your back. Frowning, you turn over, finding his eyes still shut but his eyebrows scrunched.

Nightmares aren’t new to either of you, you’ve had enough of them since being followed that one night after work, nightmares where Steve isn’t there to save you this time. It still hurts to see him go through one, though.

Pushing yourself up, you run one hand through his hair, the other squeezing his shoulder. “Steve, wake up.”

After a couple more tries, his eyes open quickly, darting around before landing on your face, on the worry he must find written there. “Honey,” he breathes. “Are you okay?”

It’s classic Steve that the first thing he’d be worried about is you, when he’s the one who’s just had a nightmare. You trail your hand down his arm to tangle your fingers together. “Don’t worry about me. You were having a nightmare.”

His eyes squeeze shut, like he’s remembering it all over again. “You were hurt and I couldn’t- nothing was working. I was too late.”

“Hey,” you cup his jaw with your free hand, making sure his gaze is on yours. “Look at me. I’m not hurt. Not one bit, okay?”

He nods his hand tightening in yours, his other one reaching to tug you closer, your legs tangling together. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

You think back to the day you first met him, when he’d carried your moving boxes for you like it was nothing. You hadn’t realized then just how much weight he really felt, a weight you now hope to help lift, if only a little.

Steve was afraid then, of getting too close to you, if possible putting you in danger. He’s still afraid of the latter now, but there was something inevitable about you two, he thinks. It must be why his heartbeat calms more and more the longer he lays there with you, the longer he looks at you.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” You smile what you hope is something reassuring, trying to ease his mind, lighten things, “besides, I fell asleep on you earlier. It’s only fair.”

Steve’s not sure how he got so lucky with you, your patience, your understanding about everything. He can’t believe that you just happened to move in. It feels much more like fate than anything else to him.

“Thank you for being here, honey.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

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smilingformoney · 1 day

Text

The Eternal Summer

V. Welcome to the World

Summary: The world ends, but time keeps moving forward.

AN: This was only supposed to be a smutty fic. Then again, I said the same thing about Sins of the Flesh. I hope you enjoyed the ride, everybody! If you're wondering what becomes of your family, here is your family tree (I have given reader characters names because it's easier for me) - you might recognise some of the modern-day descendants!

Read now on Ao3 or below the cut:

It was the longest night of your life. You sat by the window for a while, looking out across the station. Elliott was sat on his porch, revolver in hand, waiting patiently for Quigley to make his move. He glanced back at you on occasion and his frown would soften, the grip on his gun would loosen slightly, and your heart would ache when you locked eyes with one another.

William, meanwhile, was trying to keep himself awake, reading one of Elliott’s books and occasionally standing up to stretch his legs. He was using a cane to balance himself thanks to the wound in his leg, but he refused to listen when you insisted he should stay seated.

By midnight, you were struggling to stay awake.

“Go to bed, [Y/n],” William said when he saw you trying to keep your eyes open. “You don’t need to stand vigil.”

You couldn’t care less about Quigley, but what you did care about was Elliott, who was letting his anger and his pride get the best of him.

But you were tired, and despite what Elliott said, you suspected Quigley was telling the truth about waiting until dawn, so you supposed a little sleep would do you no harm.

With Elliott waiting for Quigley and William guarding you, you had no warm body to hold as you drifted off, but you were so sleepy that you were able to make do with holding the pillow which now smelt of both Elliott and William.

You woke at dawn to the sound of gunshots.

You’d been so tired when you went to bed that you’d forgotten to change into your nightgown, and so it was in a rumpled dress that you came into the lounge to find William peering through the curtains to see outside.

“What’s going on?” you asked blearily.

“A man’s been shot. Stay away from the windows, [Y/n].”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t bloody know. Don’t worry, your boyfriend’s fine. What on earth is he doing?” William questioned as you both heard the sound of horses galloping out of the station. “He’s throwing his men at him like lemmings. Didn’t I just tell you to stay away from the windows?”

You were by his side now, looking through the other curtain to see what was going on. Elliott was crouched below a wagon, gun in hand, as three of his men rode out across the plains.

“He’s not here, he must be in the cutting,” you replied.

“If he shot that man from afar, he can shoot you too.”

You shook your head, your eyes still on Elliott.

“He won’t.”

William scoffed. “Oh? And what makes you so sure of that?”

“He said he wouldn’t.”

“You can’t trust everything men say, [Y/n].”

“Not even you?”

You surprised yourself at your own audacity, but William surprised you more when he didn’t react with anger. Instead, he chuckled and stroked your cheek.

“That’s different, darling. I’m your husband who loves you. Matthew Quigley is an evil man, a murderer - is he sending more men out?” William interrupted himself as he spotted another few men riding out on horses. “Has Elliott completely lost his mind? At this rate, he and I will be the only men left before Quigley even gets here.”

“Maybe… maybe I should go and talk to him. He always seems to calm down when I’m around. Maybe I can talk some sense into him.”

William frowned, but he shrugged. “Maybe you can suck his cock or something, that’ll calm him down.”

You blushed and ducked your head, and William just snorted.

“Don’t act coy, darling, I know you’ve been sucking his cock. Go on, go and see if you can talk some sense into that thick skull of his.”

You made your way out onto the porch, where Elliott was stood leaning against a pillar, staring into the distance with a frown so severe he might have been hoping to kill Quigley just by looking at him. He jumped slightly when you put your hand on his shoulder, but just as you’d predicted, the tension in his shoulders eased when he saw you standing there.

“What are you doing out here, sweetheart?”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close. You felt your own tension lifting too, as if all either of you needed to calm down was one another’s presence.

“We’ve been watching from inside. Are you planning on throwing men at him until you run out?”

Elliott chuckled, then kissed the top of your head affectionately. “If that’s what it takes. I’d rather expend ten men and kill him before he gets here than let him come and risk him getting to you.”

“Don’t sacrifice your men for me!” you insisted, fear rising in your heart as you thought of all the lives Elliott was willing to sacrifice for you.

“I can always hire more men, [Y/n]. There’s only one of you.”

You frowned. “There’s nothing special about me, El —”

“Don’t you dare say that!” Elliott hissed, interrupting you. “There is no one in this world like you, you understand me? Any man I hire can shovel cow shit or plough a field. No one else can do what you do for me.”

“There are whores in Melbourne…”

Elliott frowned at you, looking almost disappointed.

“Do you really think I’m talking about sex? Have you forgotten everything I told you at the graveyard yesterday?”

Elliott scoffed and shook his head.

“You really don’t know the effect you have on the people around you, do you? You don’t know what William and I were duelling for.”

“Then what?”

Elliott sighed and held you closer, looking out across the horizon as if the words to describe you were somewhere out there with Quigley and the dingos. And maybe they were, because he seemed to find them, and he looked down at you and smiled.

“You don’t know how bright you shine.”

You stared at him, stunned. You might have kissed him, but you knew your husband was watching through the window, and besides, your attention was drawn away when you heard the sound of a galloping horse coming closer, and you both looked to see Elliott’s two remaining men riding back into the station, dragging something along the ground behind them.

Elliott released his hold on you and met his men in the middle of the station. You watched from the porch as he bent over and you realised he was talking to not something, but someone that had been dragged across the dirt.

As Elliott taunted Quigley, you heard the thump of William’s cane as he came up behind you and put a hand on your shoulder.

“You should go back inside, [Y/n],” he said softly.

You shook your head, your eyes still firmly set on Elliott.

William’s grip on your shoulder tightened.

“Do as I say, [Y/n],” he said, more curtly.

You looked up at him then.

And somehow, in that moment, you knew.

Maybe you’d known all along.

“No.”

Before William had a chance to respond, you were dashing across the dirt to Elliott’s side. He was standing in a familiar position opposite Quigley, flagged either side by O’Flynn and Dobkin. Just last night you’d seen him standing in the exact same spot across from William, but this time his opponent was a lot more well-versed in duelling.

“Elliott, please don’t do this,” you begged, skidding to a halt at his side, grabbing his hands desperately. “Just let him go, nobody has to die —”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Elliot said smugly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ll make it quick for him.”

“I don’t care about him, Elliott, I…” You felt a tear running down your cheek. You ignored it.

“Just survive this, okay? Survive this… and I’ll marry you.”

A grin broke out across Elliott’s face and he kissed you passionately, not caring that O’Flynn and Dobkin were nearby, that Quigley was standing opposite, or that your husband was watching from the porch. All he had to do was kill Quigley, and you’d be his.

“That’s the best good-luck token a man could ask for,” Elliott murmured when your lips parted. “Get yourself a safe distance away, sweetheart. I won’t have a stray bullet coming near you.”

“You’re an idiot,” you sighed.

Elliott grinned and winked at you.

You retreated back to the front porch, where William and Tommy were waiting for you. Your husband said nothing about the scene that had just transpired.

There was a long, tense moment as Elliott and Quigley stared one another down. It may have only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like hours to you as you stood, waiting…

And four shots rang out in quick succession.

It happened so quick, it took you a moment to register what had happened. Quigley was still standing - O’Flynn and Dobkin were on the ground - and Elliott was on his knees.

He fell back almost in slow motion, and you screamed.

You dodged the hands of both William and Tommy as they tried to hold you back, and the dust on the ground bloomed into clouds as you ran to Elliott.

One look at him was enough to know there was nothing you could do. His white shirt was stained red, blood pouring out from his torso.

One hand was still on the handle of his gun, which dropped to the ground when you lifted Elliott’s head from the ground to cradle him in your lap.

“Elliott… Elliott, please, look at me…”

The light was quickly fading from his eyes, but still he smiled when he looked up at you.

“[Y/n]…”

“Elliott, please - please, don’t die - please, I need you!”

You couldn’t see the way the morning sun reflected off your hair, shining as bright as you always shone to Elliott, and he wondered if dying gave him a glimpse into divinity, because surely you were an angel come to save his soul in the weeks before he died.

He could only hope he’d done enough for you. Loved you enough, taught you enough, shown you that you were worth so much more than you knew.

“Elliott, please, you’ve got to live, please,” you sobbed. “We’re gonna get married, remember?”

Elliott wheezed, attempting to laugh as blood filled his lungs.

“A mortal man can’t marry an angel,” he croaked.

You shook your head. He must have been delirious.

“I’m no angel, Elliott. I’m just a girl. And I… I love you.”

You sobbed harder, knowing it wasn’t enough. Your love would never be enough.

Elliott smiled, his head lolling towards your chest as his eyes fluttered closed.

“My angel…”

You screamed so loud, the birds in the trees were startled away.

This couldn’t be real. It wasn’t possible for a single human being to feel this much pain and survive. How could you survive, when your heart had been torn from your chest? Why would you want to, when the only good thing you’d ever known was an empty husk beneath you?

It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. You had nothing your whole life, you were nothing, and you’d accepted that until Elliott came along and made you feel like you were worth something, worth love and affection - and he’d been torn away from you.

Torn away by an evil man for no reason at all - a man who, you remembered suddenly, was still standing. Still living. How many men had he killed? How many other women would grieve their lost loves now because of Matthew Quigley and his stupid fucking rifle?

You raised your head and, through your tears, saw Quigley standing with his back to you. He didn’t even care about the crying woman behind him. He was just watching as the last of the servants left, returning to their native land now Elliott was gone.

They could go. You didn’t care about them.

But there was no way Quigley was leaving this place.

You didn’t even hesitate. You grabbed the gun Elliott had dropped.

“Needle,” you mumbled.

You checked the barrel. Full but for one empty slot.

“Thread.”

You pointed the gun at Quigley’s back.

“Hole.”

You pulled the trigger three times for good measure, each bullet landing in his back, each hitting some organ or other and throwing Quigley to the ground before he even knew what was happening.

You tossed the gun aside. You didn’t care to check Quigley was dead. You only cared about Elliott, motionless in your arms, and even knowing he was gone, you pushed his hair out of his face to look at him.

It was the most horrendous sight. The eyes that usually blazed so fiercely, whether it be with love or lust or anger, were extinguished. You could barely even register that it was Elliott in your arms, he looked so unlike himself. You recognised the eyes, the nose, the cheekbones and the lips, but… the man you loved was gone.

You couldn’t tell how long you sat there, sobbing, clinging onto Elliott’s lifeless body as if as long as you held him, there was a chance he’d wake up again.

But he wouldn’t wake up, because he wasn’t asleep. You’d watched him sleep. Even asleep, he was alive. He breathed, fidgeted, responded to your touch. Now… nothing. Not a breath, not a twitch, not a sound.

He was gone, and he’d taken a piece of you with him.

You were only snapped back to reality when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You let out a yelp of surprise and held Elliott tighter, as if the hand belonged to someone who’d take him away from you.

“[Y/n]?”

The voice was so small, so tentative. You almost didn’t recognise your baby brother’s voice.

You looked up at him. He wouldn’t take Elliott away from you, would he?

You knew you should say something reassuring, but you had nothing. How could you reassure him when the world had already ended?

He was saying something, but you couldn’t even hear. It was like the world was on mute. All you could hear was your own breathing, your own sobs, and you couldn’t tell which had come last when you passed out.

---

Time passed in a haze. You slept, you woke, you cried until you slept again.

Sometimes you’d wake and see Tommy sitting on a chair nearby. Other times, you’d find William sleeping next to you. Once or twice, you woke and saw a man you didn’t know, a stranger in an army uniform. Food and water would appear on your bedside table, and you’d get as much down as you could before you began to feel sick.

Tommy would try and engage you in conversation, but you didn’t have the energy to talk. The soldier, whoever he was, didn’t talk to you.

William was usually asleep, though once you did wake to see him placing a bowl of soup on your bedside table.

Maybe none of them knew what to do with you. You didn’t know what to do with yourself.

After some days - you couldn’t say how many - you were awoken by someone shaking your shoulder, and your eyes fluttered open to see Tommy by your bedside.

“We’re going to the church in town soon, to - to bury Mr Marston with his wife. Will you come?”

You nodded groggily, and when you finally emerged from the lodge in a black dress Tommy had brought you from your luggage, you winced against the bright sunlight, having seen nothing but the muted light through the curtains for several days.

The station looked strange so empty. For so long there’d been the hustle and bustle of men at work, but now it was like a ghost town. At the gate, William was waiting for you with two horses, and somewhere beneath the numbness of your grief you thought he looked handsome in his black suit.

Tommy had his own horse and you sat behind William on another as you rode into town. You wrapped your arms around William’s waist and rested your head on his back from your side-saddle position. You closed your eyes, hoping that to look away from the landscape would ease the soreness you felt looking at the land Elliott had worked so hard for.

Later, you’d barely remember the funeral service. It was small; a lot of people didn’t like Elliott very much, and those that had had died at Quigley’s hands. The burial itself was even smaller; only you, William and Tommy. And fortunately so, because you might have embarrassed yourself with the way you broke down crying when you saw the tombstone. Only days earlier, you had stood on this very spot with Elliott, he promising a life of freedom for you and Tommy if only you’d marry him.

He had sworn never to come back here; now here he was forever.

Here lies Victoria Marston 1826 - 1860 and Elliott Marston 1820 - 1865

You calmed yourself eventually, but when the coffin was brought to be lowered into the grave, you broke down again, seeking comfort in William’s arms.

And he held you. Your husband was never one for public affection, but he held you.

“Would anyone like to say a few words?” the reverend asked when he’d finished his prayers.

You shook your head. You had no words to say. There wasn’t any combination of words in any language that could encapsulate the grief you felt, the love you had for him, the future you had lost.

William kept an arm around you the entire time. He sat you in front of him on the ride back to the station, guiding the horse with one hand while the other held you.

He told you to pack to return to Melbourne that night, so you braved crossing the threshold of Elliott’s house.

You gasped, but held yourself together when you saw that his lounge had been stripped almost bare.

In the bedroom, your breath caught in your chest to see the bed you’d spent so much time in with Elliott, but still your tears appeared to have run dry.

That was, until you opened the wardrobe, and you were hit by Elliott’s musky smell wafting from his clothes, still hanging in the wardrobe, waiting to be worn.

You fell to your knees and sobbed then, burying your head in his shirts, trying to cement the memory of his smell in your mind.

It wasn’t until William came to find out what was taking you so long that you were able to pull away. Even then, William had to lift you up and pull you away, ignoring your screams of protest as he parted you from your lost lover’s scent.

He guided you outside, told Tommy to keep an eye on you, and went back inside.

By the time the sun was beginning to set, William had packed your belongings and loaded up the wagon.

The journey back to Melbourne was torture. None of you well-adjusted to the Australian weather, you travelled by night, sleeping in the day, the men taking turns to stand guard against wild dingos.

Not that it mattered to you when you travelled; you just slept as much as you could, willing away the travel time until you arrived in Melbourne.

The house William had found for you both was not dissimilar to your home in London. William told you to get some rest while he unpacked, and when he deemed the job done, he found you sitting out on the balcony that led from your bedroom, looking out across the streets of Melbourne.

“[Y/n], I know you’re in shock,” William said, surprisingly soft for him, and you almost didn’t recognise his voice. “But we must talk about what happens next.”

You nodded. You still hadn’t said a word since Elliott’s death.

“After you fainted last week, the army arrived. Tommy took the blame for Quigley’s death. Two soldiers stayed behind after their platoon left, to help me with moving the station’s contents and… the bodies.”

William paused. You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“I’ll sell the land tomorrow. Tommy tells me his former employer may be interested in it. We have until October before we return to London, and then we can put this whole mess behind us.”

You spoke for the first time. Your voice was hoarse and hardly more than a whisper, but William heard you.

“Tommy?”

“His employment reverts to me. I’ll keep him in my employ as a messenger boy for now, but he cannot return to London with us. He’s your brother, I know, and a hard worker, but his sentence is his sentence. I cannot be seen to revoke that for sentimental reasons. You understand that, yes?”

You nodded. You hadn’t expected anything more. In fact, you’d expected less. You were glad to know Tommy would be around at least until you left.

“Good girl, [Y/n].”

William placed a hand over yours. Your fingers twitched in a vague response, but otherwise you remained unmoved.

“I know you grieve for him — I do too. But we have work to do. I am still a judge of her Majesty’s court, and I have responsibilities; just as you do as my wife. I’ve given you time to recover from the shock, but tonight I expect you to resume your normal duties and serve your husband. Understood?”

You nodded again.

He left you alone.

---

Judge Turpin was starting to get irritated now.

It was four months since his cousin had died. Four months since he’d reunited with his wife. What he’d expected to be a joyous affair had been marred by the undoubtedly shocking end of Matthew Quigley’s rampage, and he’d been generous enough to grant you a week to process the difficult event. And just as he’d demanded on your return to Melbourne, you took his seed thrice daily in the hope of your belly quickening.

But still, you remained consumed by your grief. If this was how you reacted to the death of a man you hardly knew, he could hardly imagine how you’d react to his own death.

You hardly spoke. You never smiled, not really; not in a way that reached your eyes. Turpin would often come home from a day at court to find you’d not moved from the same spot all day.

And when he made love to you, there was no engagement, no thrill - you just opened your legs obediently and let him use you for his own pleasure.

It was getting boring and it was getting frustrating. So Turpin went to a doctor, who prescribed electrotherapy, but all that did was make you scream and cry, and that was worse than seeing you feel nothing, so he quickly put a stop to the therapy.

He was in the middle of giving a judgment in court when Tommy ran up to his bench and placed a note in front of him.

He paused, hoping Tommy had good reason for interrupting a judgment.

On reading the note, he quickly adjourned the hearing, leaving very stunned counsel in his wake as he dashed out of the courtroom.

He had shed his wig as he stood, but he was still clad in his judge’s robes when he entered the hospital and demanded to know where you were.

A nurse led him to your room, explaining the circumstances in which Tommy had found you unconscious in bed, a half-drunk bottle of arsenic in your hand. If it hadn’t been for Tommy’s quick thinking in inducing vomiting, you may have died. Instead, you were alive, but unconscious.

Turpin angrily sent the nurse away when he entered the room, demanding no one to disturb him. The door closed, he rushed to your side, and his heart broke to see you laying in the hospital bed, looking peaceful and serene as you slept, as if you had no idea the fear you’d struck into his heart.

“You stupid girl,” Turpin sighed. He sat perched on the edge of the bed and took your hand in his. Your fingers didn’t even twitch.

“Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeated. “Don’t you dare frighten your husband so. What on earth convinced you this was a good idea?”

Of course you didn’t respond.

Turpin stayed by your side for several days. Tommy brought him food, drink and fresh clothes. A clerk from the court came to take his instructions that he wouldn’t be hearing any matters until his wife woke up.

He read to you from the books the nurses had lying around. They mostly had silly romantic books, but by the end of Pride & Prejudice, Turpin found himself surprisingly invested in the story and glad that the two lovers had married.

When he wasn’t reading to you, Turpin spent a lot of time talking to you, or thinking to himself.

He knew why you were grieving so deeply.

He had loved his first wife, Charlotte, and yet she had fallen for a sailor boy. Lucy had loved Barker; Johanna had run away with Anthony.

And now you had fallen in love with Elliott.

Was he doomed to only love women who loved another?

He had punished Charlotte, yet she had run away anyway. So when he fell for Lucy, he sent Barker away, but still she rejected him. When Johanna believed she loved a boy she had only seen and not spoken to, this time he tried locking her away; but she only escaped.

Turpin didn’t want to do any of those things to you. Was he going soft in his old age? All he wanted to do was to bring you back from the deathlike trance you were in, to make you happy again. He hadn’t realised how much joy you brought into his life until it was extinguished, but extinguished it was and he wanted it back. He wanted his wife back.

“I don’t know what Elliott had that you don’t see in me,” Turpin whispered to you on the fourth day. “But I swear to you, [Y/n], if you tell me, I shall match it. I’ll be whoever you need me to be. I just… I need your light, [Y/n]. I need you to remind me of the goodness in the world. Can you do that? Can you stay good, stay pure, stay exactly as you’ve always been? Or must you change? Must your light be snuffed out by the evils of the world?”

You still didn’t respond.

Turpin bowed his head and sighed.

He hadn’t sung since that day in Todd’s parlour. He’d never been one to sing really, but he’d been lulled into a false sense of security that day. And today, he wondered if it might help him understand his own thoughts. So, with no one around but you, Turpin sung softly.

“I sit here, a man infatuate with love Your ardent and eager slave Please wake up, don’t leave me all alone Your love is all I now need to know Please tell me, my love, how I can show I’ll love you until my grave

You set my heart and soul afire One might think I’d be vexed 'Tis true, dear, love can still inspire The blood to pound, the heart leap higher What more can one require than love, dear? More than love, dear…

Kindness? Maybe kindness… Care and kindness.”

He stopped suddenly, his attention caught by a strange movement: from beneath your hospital gown, something appeared to be moving around your abdomen.

Turpin gently lifted the gown to reveal your belly. It was protruding a little, perhaps from the poor diet you’d been eating since returning to Melbourne.

It moved again. An unmistakable wave of movement across your belly, as if…

As if there were something inside.

Hardly daring to get his hopes up, Turpin put his hand over your belly.

And then he felt it.

A kick. Definitely a kick.

Something - no, some one was moving inside you. A baby!

Finally, after so long trying, your womb had quickened!

Turpin dashed out of the room and flagged down a passing nurse.

“Nurse! Come quickly!”

“Is everything alright, Lord Turpin?” the nurse asked, slightly alarmed at the usually stoic man’s sudden sense of urgency. “Has Lady Turpin woken?”

“No, but I’m certain I just felt her womb quickening. Do you have a method of discerning if she’s pregnant?”

“Goodness! Yes, although I’ll have to fetch Dr Stephens, he’s the expert on maternity.”

“Then fetch him immediately!”

“Yes, sir.”

The nurse rushed off, and Turpin returned to your side. He beamed at you and took your hand in his, for once not caring to maintain any sort of stoic facade.

“I hope you can hear me, darling,” he said softly. “You’re pregnant. Do you hear me? Do you know? Can you feel him? Our child, growing inside you, an heir for our legacy…”

“Care and kindness, that’s what it takes To make our love stronger Care and kindness, what a wonder Care and kindness…

Now we’ll have our child, the answer to my prayer I feel a change in the air Care and kindness that we’ll show him And I’ll show you also Stay forever, if you’ll have me Care and kindness Care and kindness

I know that you will love and Raise my son and heir Even when I leave I’ll still be there He’s there Care and kindness that you give me And I’ll give you, and we’ll give him, and he’ll give us How it makes a man sing Proof of heaven, as you're living Care and kindness, love Care and kindness, dear Care and kindness, oh, care and kindness…”

You were confused when you woke up.

You weren’t supposed to wake up.

Wasn’t that what the apothecarist had said? One drink from the bottle and you’d sleep forever.

So why were you awake?

You opened your eyes and panic rose in your chest when you didn’t recognise the room you were in.

Someone was holding your hand. You turned your head to see William, sitting by your bedside, your hand in his and his head bowed as if in prayer.

Your finger twitched slightly, and his head shot up to look at you, wide-eyed.

”[Y/n]!” William exclaimed, relief evident in his voice. He grinned and held your hand to his lips. “You’re awake! My prayers have been answered.”

“Where am I?” you mumbled, your voice dry and hoarse.

“The Royal Melbourne, darling. You caused us all quite a fright. How are you feeling?”

“Um… okay, I think.”

You went to sit up, and William adjusted your pillows behind you to support you. He took your head in his hands, examining you as if to make sure he wasn’t imagining things.

“You’re sure? Are you hungry, thirsty? I’ve done my best to feed you while you’ve been asleep.”

“Yes, I’m fine - maybe a bit thirsty.”

“Of course. There’s water here.”

William poured a glass of water from the jug by the bed, and you glanced around the room.

It was mostly empty, and a bit miserable-looking. A stack of books lay nearby. You were dressed in nothing but a hospital gown, which had been pushed around your waist, and you tugged it down to cover your privacy.

“How long was I sleeping?”

“Four days. Here - drink.”

You must have really worried him, because you’d not seen William so eager to look after you before. He was like an entirely different person, his usual restraint gone, and you noticed when returning your empty glass to him that he was wearing only a shirt and trousers, nothing of his usual formal attire, and there was stubble on his cheek.

“Darling, I have to tell you something,” William said with a sense of urgency, taking both hands in yours. “And I must tell you now, so you’re not to interrupt me.”

You nodded.

“I know you fell in love with Elliott.”

Your heart dropped. This was it, he knew, he was going to divorce you for adultery —

“And yet, I know you didn’t try to leave me for him, much as he tried to convince you to. You showed me unwavering loyalty, even in spite of what your heart yearned for, and for that I thank you. I know I’m not the kindest husband, and though I provide for you, I can do better. I must do better. I swear to you now, [Y/n], with the Lord as my witness, I will do everything in my power to be the best husband I can for you, to honour Elliott’s memory, and… to be the best father I can for our child.”

He placed his hand tenderly over your stomach and smiled.

“I felt it, darling. The quickening. I saw him move and felt his kicks, only minutes before you woke. At last we’ll have the child we’ve yearned for.”

You felt paralysed with shock.

You were pregnant. You had a child inside you, a life, entirely dependent on you.

If you’d succeeded in what you’d tried to do, the child would have died too. You were so consumed in grief, you’d almost snuffed out the last trace of Elliott in the world.

The thought came to you so naturally, it was as if you just knew.

Maybe you did. Maybe a mother always knows.

Elliott was gone, but he was still with you. He’d left you with child.

Did William know? Did he want to know? Did the suspicion even cross his mind?

He looked so happy. Here he was, promising to be the best father he could be. If he even suspected the child wasn’t his, he would never react like this. He would probably force you to abort it to make room for his own child.

He couldn’t know. He could never know. The child would be Turpin, and he would never know who his real father was. It was a secret you had to carry to your grave, for all your sakes.

You looked up at your husband. He looked at you searchingly, waiting for you to respond to the news of your pregnancy.

“Can we call him Elliott?”

---

Thanks to some herbs from an apothecarist in Melbourne - not the same one who’d given you the useless bottle of arsenic, as grateful as you were for their negligence - you managed to make the two month journey back to London without regurgitating your meals any more than an expectant mother would normally do.

Your belly grew substantially over the journey, and though you’d managed to carry your own bags onto the boat in Melbourne, there was simply no way William was allowing you to attempt to carry them off again in London. You counted yourself fortunate that he didn’t insist on carrying you off the boat himself.

You’d said a tearful goodbye to Tommy in Melbourne, but you left knowing you’d see him sooner than expected; although he claimed there were no personal reasons for it, William had drawn up a law before you left that a convict who spends his sentence in the employ of the British army would receive a day off his sentence for each day served. It just so happened that shortly after enacting the law, he had Tommy enlist in the army, and therefore so long as he stayed safe and served the army well, he could return to London in as little as seven years.

You arrived in London just a few days before Christmas, and you were greeted with warm welcomes and congratulations by other churchgoers on Christmas Day, many of them pleasantly surprised to see Lord and Lady Turpin had safely returned from Australia and that you were heavy with child.

William forwent his usual New Year’s celebrations in favour of looking after you, since you were now so pregnant you could hardly get out of bed.

The New Year had hardly begun when you went into labour, and if you weren’t so distressed with your pain, you might have been amused at seeing the usually stoic Lord Turpin fretting with worry over you, refusing the doctors’ advice to leave the room. Instead, he insisted on staying with you, and made no complaints no matter how hard you gripped his hand in the throes of pain.

You were just about ready to pass out when finally you were free of the weight of the child, and William had to keep you awake as the nurse washed the baby, wrapped him up and handed him to you to nurse.

“Is he alright? Is he healthy?” William asked urgently, addressing the nurse but his eyes fixed firmly on the sight of you, sweaty and exhausted and utterly beautiful, holding your son to your breast.

“Yes and yes. And he is indeed a boy, congratulations!”

William beamed at you. “I never doubted it for a moment.”

Although he’d never say it to you, he had had doubts of the child’s paternity for months. And yet, looking down at him now, he realised he didn’t care if the child was half him or half Elliott. He was half you, and that was all that mattered.

William leant down and kissed the boy’s head tenderly.

“Welcome to the world, Elliott Turpin.”

Twenty Years Later

Being the eldest child was difficult sometimes. As the heir to the Turpin estate, Elliott had all the responsibilities, while his three youngest siblings were free to leave after marrying and start families elsewhere.

Elliott, though, stayed in the family home with his wife and young son. His wife, bless her, never complained - she liked having his mother around, she said. It was nice to have another lady around, especially when Elliott’s youngest sister, Eleanor, married and moved out almost as soon as she turned eighteen.

What he hadn’t expected was to lose his mother so soon after Eleanor left.

He had been the one to find her motionless in her bed.

And fortunately he had, because while in one hand she held an empty bottle of arsenic, in the other she held a letter addressed to him, and when he read the contents, he knew nobody could ever know the truth contained within, not even his wife.

Elliott —

I know I’m leaving early, but since my darling William left us ten years ago, I’ve been aching to follow him. In truth, I stayed only because my duty on this earth was not done. But now Eleanor is married, all four of you have families, and I’m needed here no more.

I must tell you a truth, Elliott, a truth I kept only to myself since before you were born.

You know you were named for William’s cousin, who we briefly stayed with in Australia in 1865, who was murdered before our very eyes.

But there’s more to your namesake than that.

For some time, William worked in Melbourne, while I stayed with Elliott at his station.

I fell in love with him.

If it weren’t for his death, I might have left William for him. But events transpired as they did, and I lost the love of my life. All I had left of him was the gift he’d given me: you.

The very moment I discovered I was pregnant with you, I knew he was your father. I wonder sometimes if a part of William knew too.

You knew William as a supportive if stern father, who laughed but reluctantly, and who adored me and all of you.

He wasn’t always like that.

The early years of our relationship were fraught with darkness, but that tale is done. That version of William died long ago.

He worked hard to become the man you knew. And he did it because of Elliott. He did it because he saw the love Elliott and I had, and although at first he was jealous, he took it as a lesson to become a better man.

I have loved every version of my husband. I loved Elliott too. Both these things can be true.

And of course I have loved you. I can never prove that Elliott is your father, but I have always known it.

You remind me of him sometimes. Your laugh is the same. He fancied himself an American cowboy, so you can imagine how it brought me both joy and sorrow to see you play Cowboys and Indians with William Jr, always insisting on being the cowboy.

But the resemblance I see most is in your family, the way you love them, care for them, protect them no matter what. If your father was anything, he was a protector.

He taught me to speak for myself. He showed me that I can make choices for myself. And it’s because of him that you exist, and that will always be the greatest gift of my life.

I love you, Elliott. Be the good man I know you are.

All my love,

Your mother, [Y/n] Turpin

#alan rickman #elliott marston #judge turpin #elliott marston x reader #judge turpin x reader #quigley down under #sweeney todd #the eternal summer

29 notes · View notes

fiveredlights · 19 hours

Text

there's glitter on the floor after the party: the deleted scenes

i'm sure it'll make someone happy because i think we all need it! just as a note, this is all unedited so some of it might make no sense and that's okay.

(i recommend the google doc for easier reading otherwise the whole thing is under the cut)

Chapter one: 2023

I don’t have anything to show…anything I did cut has already been long deleted. My bad. The first two are very sparse because I was cutting unwanted things as my Google docs was lagging whenever I opened it. The only thing I remember writing that chapter was that it was meant to coincide with Daniel’s return to COTA in real life but I ran out of time so I pushed it back to Las Vegas.

Chapter two: 2024

CUT: Daniel winning the championship

WHY: Felt too rushed and easy. No emotional pay off, you were only just introduced to Daniel in RBR again. Also don’t ask me what happened to Max for him to not just clean sweep 2023-2027. Also don’t ask who won the championship in 2026. I declare that your favourite driver won it and I definitely did not forget to give a championship.

DANIEL: Oh my god, it’s just surreal like I don’t know how to describe it. Especially after the past couple years, it’s just—yeah. And to do it with Max too, it’s just something special for me and the team.

MISCELLANEOUS:

73 Questions With Daniel Ricciardo | Vogue

3.3M views 2 days ago …more

Vogue 4M

[00:00:00]

DANIEL: Hello Vogue, didn’t see you there. Welcome to my home away from home.

[00:13:33]

PRODUCER: One sentence you could tell your younger self?

DANIEL: Doors are meant to be opened.

[00:15:09]

PRODUCER: Worst thing about racing in Formula 1?

DANIEL: Accidents, hands down. It’s horrifying as a driver to watch someone crash, because that’s when everything sort of gets a reality check in the cockpit. Like we are racing around at three-hundred kilometres an hour, and there is a real chance that something could go wrong. I’ll never forget Max’s Silverstone accident, just—yeah it just a horrible thing to witness.

—

emotionalsupportredbull

not daniel fidgeting with his necklace when he talks about max’s silverstone crash… you ain’t slick boy

#yes i have deluded myself into thinking it’s from max #i’m already depressed i don’t want to hear it #join team emotional support redbull delusions

348 notes

frenchpine

qu'est-ce que tu sais, espèce de salope française qui aime l'érable et qui parle bizarrement ? sors avec ça (What do you know you maple-loving weird speaking French bitch? Come out with it)

#je ne veux pas te traiter de salope #ou peut-être que c'est le cas (#i don’t mean to call you a bitch #or maybe i do)

392 notes

(i promise i wrote this before he decided to rear end daniel in china. i pinky promise.)

landando

daniel “doors are meant to be opened” ricciardo

#what is my man on #doors are meant to be opened 😭😭 #he didn’t open a door one time and it’s haunted him for life

78 notes

Chapter three: 2025

CUT: Red Bull marketing video

WHY: Chapter was already very long. Also I couldn’t find any good questions.

Daniel and Max play the F1 newlywed game 💒💍

827K views 10 hours ago #Gives you wings #F1 … more

Oracle Red Bull Racing 1.58M

INT. RED BULL RACING HOSPITALITY - DAY

[00:00:00]

MAX: Hello everyone and today we are playing the newlywed game.

DANIEL: Are you excited?

MAX: I mean I have to say yes otherwise I look like I’m in an unhappy marriage.

DANIEL: Wow—

MAX:—Also the name doesn’t even make sense. Newlywed? That isn’t us.

DANIEL: [To off screen] Guys, I would get someone to approve your overtime, we’re gonna be here a while.

[00:02:01]

OFF SCREEN: Who is more likely to overpack for a holiday?

DANIEL: Don’t look at me!

MAX: We have three suitcases.

DANIEL: It takes effort to look this good.

MAX: Three suitcases every single race weekend.

DANIEL: What’s the next question?

CUT: Lucinda’s vaguely threatening email

WHY: Broke the fourth wall. Glitter on the floor is meant to be solely a third POV view and I couldn’t justify it.

CONFIDENTIAL: PRESS STRATEGY REGARDING MAX VERSTAPPEN AND DANIEL RICCIARDO

From: lucindasalzar@/press.redbull.racing

To: maxverstappen@/redbull.racing, danielricciardo@/redbull.racing

CC: christianhorner@/redbull.racing, teamdaniel@/press.redbull.racing, teammax@/press.redbull.racing

Date: 21 Nov 2025 at 3:04am

Hi all,

Please see attachment below for finalised details regarding your press strategy and talking points this weekend. Media have been advised to not ask any questions about the ring and we’d like to keep it that way. Remember to keep it vague if you do get asked, and if you don’t feel comfortable a simple no comment will suffice.

Please email for any further clarification or questions and good luck this weekend. (And please no spur of the moment Las Vegas—Elvis impersonator weddings you two.)

Best regards,

Lucinda Salzar (she/her)

Head of Communications, Red Bull Racing.

E: lucindasalzar@/press.redbull.racing

P: +44 ** **** *****

CUT: The chaotic Abu Dhabi super seat swap

WHY: I had to cut this because I altered the timeline, Las Vegas was going to the second last race. In an earlier version Max and Daniel were gonna come back in 2026 and also drop the Matilda news at the same time but I wanted more content just out of Maxiel so I had to leave this on the cutting board. Some of it made it into the published fic but the original thing was more chaotic. (Also I changed the Red Bull junior driver at least once a week because they kept dropping them. It went from Hauger, to Crawford, to Maloney and then I just gave up because I could not keep up.)

lights-out-away-we-go

red bull needed to replace two drivers and they did in THE MOST CHAOTIC way possible. okay, just listen:

the official red bull reserve driver is liam lawson (of alpha tauri, so he obviously gets pulled up)

alpha tauri then call on zane maloney to replace liam (alpha tauri’s reserve driver)

BUT, daniel’s car still needs to fulfil the mandatory rookie free practice session (max’s was completed in mexico when maloney drove)

red bull can’t get zane in daniel’s car again cause he’s got to drive liam’s… so they’ve got to find someone who has the super licence points … we’ll come back to this

so right now car 3 is being driven by liam lawson, car 40 is driven by zane maloney. i hear you ask… who is driving car 1? it’s none other than yuki tsunoda (of alphatauri)

I KNOW, but red bull have quite literally run out of contracted reserve drivers and i believe because every driver is technically employed by red bull (whether they drive for RB or AT) they’re able to pull them up or down without the FIA kicking up a fuss

i’ll wait for why red bull pulled up both AT’s

this means yuki tsunoda’s alpha tauri will be without a driver and once again, red bull call Pepe Marti

#i don’t even know if this is 100% correct i could be so wrong

13,482 notes

—

SKY F1 SPORTS- 2025 ABU DHABI GRAND PRIX - FREE PRACTICE 1

David CROFT: Welcome ladies and gentlemen to our final race of the 2025 season, to our first free practice session under the blistering sun of Abu Dhabi and if this is your first time watching, welcome along cause this will certainly be an interesting race weekend. Now, eagle eyed viewers may have caught that AlphaTauri driver Yuki Tsunoda is in the Red Bull, and his team mate is sitting in the next garage over not in a car. Anthony Davidson is with me—Ant, care to explain to our viewers at home the driver seat swap chaos that’s happening down at Red Bull?

Anthony DAVIDSON: Hello everyone, wherever in the world you may be watching and yes, chaos is the right word for it isn’t it? I’ve got about five pieces of paper and I’m going to do my best to explain, what I think, is the most complicated driver situation in F1 history.

CROFT: Yes, for those who didn’t join us last time out or who may be new to F1, I promise driver seat talk usually isn’t this complicated but we’ll do our best to make sense of it all. Now we’ve got to start at the last race for it all to make sense. Red Bull driver Daniel Ricciardo had a nasty crash with Enzo Fittipaldi of Haas that left him with a concussion and bruised ribs, which is why presumably he isn’t racing today, and we wish him well in his recovery. Red Bull’s other driver Max Verstappen was also not able to race this weekend for an unspecified reason, so Red Bull are left with two empty seats.

DAVIDSON: We know that Red Bull’s official reserve driver is Liam Lawson, so that’s no problem there. He’s driving Daniel’s number 3 car, but here’s where the trouble starts. Car number 3 still needs to complete its mandatory FP1 session, which Zane Maloney was planning to do this session. But you’ll notice that Zane is in Liam’s car right now, the Alpha Tauri—and this is because he’s Alpha Tauri’s reserve driver.

CROFT: Still following everyone? So far, car number 3 is being driven by Liam Lawson, car number 40 is being driven by Zane Maloney. But Liam Lawson isn’t even in car number 3 at the moment, it’s Pepe Marti, who is currently racing in Formula 2 and part of Red Bull’s junior academy. He’s competing the mandatory rookie FP1 session for car number 3.

DAVIDSON: So now we move onto Max Verstappen’s car, which is being driven by the other AlphaTauri driver, Yuki Tsunoda. Which now means AlphaTauri needs a driver to replace him and it’s Red Bull junior driver, Isack Hadjar who is in car number 22.

CROFT: Right, so it’s Yuki Tsunoda and Liam Lawson in Red Bull for the race, Zane Maloney and Isack Hadjar in the AlphaTauri’s and Pepe Marti in Liam or Daniel’s Red Bull for FP1. Confused? Don’t worry, so are we so bare with us if we accidentally get names and teams wrong because I believe this is possibly the biggest driver change in F1 history.

DAVIDSON: Yes and because I know people will be asking, “Why didn’t Red Bull just put Maloney in Daniel’s car for the whole weekend?” and we have an answer and officially, it’s because of contracts. Whatever behind the scenes isn’t allowing him to drive that Red Bull which is why they called up Yuki instead. Maloney has also said he feels more confident driving the AlphaTauri all weekend rather than the Red Bull, so that also may play a factor in this.

CROFT: But also this is a perfect opportunity for Red Bull to compare both drivers, should the opportunity for one of them to make the move into Red Bull when the time arises.

Chapter four: 2026

CUT: Netflix Drive to Survive script

WHY: Once again, I was lazy and didn’t want to write a script. I kinda wish I did though, I think it would’ve given Las Vegas 2025 more substance, especially because you only see it through a fan perspective whereas DTS allows you to get the driver’s perspective, but I do plan to finish this off…. eventually….

Netflix- Drive to Survive

Season 9, Episode 3 “Redemption”

The Las Vegas Grand Prix is back in town but it’s not all good fortunes for those driving. The biggest paddock secret is unveiled.

—

INT. KITCHEN - MORNING

We see scrambled eggs on a frying pan.

OFF SCREEN: Daniel? Where is my jumper? The blue one?

The camera zooms out from the eggs to see Daniel, wearing a light blue jumper, grimacing at the camera.

DANIEL: (Under his breath) To be fair it was my jumper first.

The camera swings to Max in the doorway, arms crossed as he narrows his eyes at Daniel.

MAX: I heard that.

(In the garage, during the crash.)

RED BULL TEAM MEMBER #1: Has anyone told Max?

RED BULL TEAM MEMBER #2: We’re not telling him.

RED BULL TEAM MEMBER #3: Seriously?

RED BULL TEAM MEMBER #1: He thinks his husband is dead, we’re telling him!

INT. HOTEL ROOM

PRODUCER: Do you have some fears about allowing the world to know about your relationship?

DANIEL: God, of course I have. We both have. But we spent so long being—not scared, but worried let’s say about the consequences of us just being together. But then Las Vegas happened and all I wanted was Max to sit by my bedside and make a stupid joke about me being in hospital again. And it was when Christian literally had to fight multiple people to get Max into that hospital I realised that what we were doing was unsustainable.

PRODUCER: Unsustainable?

DANIEL: Are you married?

PRODUCER: Yes?

DANIEL: Have you ever watched your partner crash into something at three hundred kilometres an hour and no one telling you if they were even alive? Because I’ve done that. We’ve done that. Multiple times.

Montage of different Max & Daniel accidents.

DANIEL: And then you have to go on with your day, going to debrief, doing press but all you really want to do is go to them and make sure that they’re even alive?

PRODUCER: …

DANIEL: So yeah. Unsustainable.

—

333 update account @/official333

📺 | Drive to Survive (Netflix)

Daniel talking about his relationship with Max on and off the track:

Q: Do you think it’s been challenging to balance out the relationship given your unique relationship with Max?

Daniel: No, and I think people over dramatise the complexity of it all. I mean sure, it has been somewhat difficult, especially at the beginning but in the end it is just racing, you know? We’re both aware that we are something different from the other drivers, but I like that. Not many people get to do what they love with their partner right next to them, so I definitely take every race we do together for granted.

476 replies 88 reposts 8,372 likes

CUT: Alternate ‘M’ reveal

WHY: I genuinely spent like half an hour thinking if fictional Max and Daniel would show Matilda, I had earlier drafts where they hide her face until I was like okay, this is fictional. Bad things do not exist in this universe, so it’s fine. Plus, Matilda is so cute I can’t hide her.

[Video: Daniel, standing in front of a door.

DANIEL: I know a lot of you guys might have noticed that I’ve been dropping clues towards who this mysterious M is and it’s finally time to reveal who it is.

He opens the door and pans the camera to Max.

DANIEL: M stands for Max. Sorry to break the news, it’s not that exciting. Wait, who’s that?

The camera pans further down to show Max holding a baby, she’s sleeping soundly in Max’s arm.

Photo: A baby. She’s wearing a light blue onesie, and her hand is wrapped around a mini honey badger soft toy.]

Liked by lucsalzar and others

danielricciardo Everybody meet Matilda. Matilda, this is everybody.

View all 5,638 comments

georgerussell63 They learnt what hard launching is and said we’re going to do it for everything… Congrats 🙌

landonorris be prepared for the onslaught of driver themed onesies coming your way…

1 March

CUT: The half-completed TIME article about Daniel

WHY: I did not have it in me to write another 1000 word article. I spent around a week just writing Daniel’s The Players’ Tribune article. But what I did write, I did like. Was also around the time TIME named Taylor Swift as their person of the year, so that’s where I got that inspiration.

How 2025 was the year of the Honey Badger—Daniel Ricciardo on winning his first Formula 1 Championship during a historic year.

by Tylda Rune-Liberi for TIME

February 15, 2026 9:33AM EST

It’s 2017 and F1 driver Daniel Ricciardo was asked in a press conference what race he would like the new owners of F1 to host. His answer? Las Vegas. In 2023, five years on, his wish was granted. Two years later, in 2025, the race he had proclaimed as a dream race would turn into stuff of nightmares.

Leading the race and looking like he would take a first win at Las Vegas after a podium in 2023, it looked like everything was going Ricciardo’s way until a bizarre accident with Kick Stake Sauber’s Theo Pourchaire causes a major accident, leaving Ricciardo wedged in the cockpit for over half an hour.

Pourchaire had given way to Ricciardo as he was being lapped, before attempting to unlap himself, choosing the wrong moment as Ricciardo was heading into the pitlane. Radios released after the accident have Pourchaire admit he “didn’t think he was going into the pit lane.”

It’s a horrifying crash to watch—even with the knowledge that both drivers would be okay, and it would soon be clear that no one felt it more in the pitlane than Ricciardo’s own teammate: Max Verstappen.

Formula 1 drivers all drive with the knowledge that a crash could happen at any given moment, but this accident was different.

[Photo: Daniel, in a dark navy denim blue overshirt and jeans.]

Ricciardo and Verstappen have had a long and varied partnership throughout their career, first starting in 2016 where Verstappen was brought up mid season from then-Red Bull junior team Toro Rosso (now Visa Cash App RB), winning his debut race with the team, where it looked like the win would go to Ricciardo instead. They would go on to be teammates for another two seasons, before Ricciardo announced a shocking move to Renault (now Alpine).

One thing that stood out about their initial partnership was how their off track friendship never seemed to waver, even in their most turbulent of times (see Hungary 2017 or Azerbaijan 2018). In an era where friendships between teammates seemed to famously end in failure, in the likes of fan dubbed ‘Brocedes’ (Nico Rosberg & Lewis Hamilton; best friends growing up who’s friendship ended in rivalry fighting for a championship) or former Red Bull teammates Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber (Multi-21 Seb?), it was an outlier that the two remained such good friends, even after Ricciardo had departed Red Bull.

Even Ricciardo mentions that Lewis Hamilton had gone up to him to ask how Verstappen and Ricciardo had managed to keep their friendship going even though they had tussles on track. “I don’t really know,” Ricciardo says. “I mean it’s definitely all in hindsight now, but I think it was because we—or at least I—knew that our friendship was really important. Like it was no matter what happens I don’t go and screw up this friendship I have with Max.”

Ricciardo would go through a bumpy time in his post-Red Bull career, going through two seasons at Renault, two seasons at McLaren before a 6 month break where he was named ‘Third Driver’ for Red Bull, a 6 month stint in Red Bull sister team AlphaTauri (formerly Toro Rosso, now Visa Cash App RB) which was marked with Ricciardo missing 5 races due to a hand injury during a free practice session in Zandvoort before returning back to the very seat he left six years earlier, Red Bull announcing Ricciardo’s return at the 2023 Las Vegas race.

A move that was then deemed as a surprise move by many pundits, all was put to rest when Riccardo finessed his AlphaTauri in the podium position, grabbing the team 3rd place and their first podium since Pierre Gasly in 2021.

Something was different about this second stint, and it wasn’t the journeys they’ve both gone on since they both parted ways. There was something different about them together.

[Photo: Max and Daniel laughing in the Red Bull garage.]

Nine years on since their first race together, it was oddly reminiscent of their first. Verstappen crossed the line to win a race his teammate had been poised to do so. Only this time, the celebrations were much different.

With Ricciardo in hospital, Verstappen quickly left the race track after a tuned down podium ceremony, skipping out on mandatory post-race media duties, where competitors and team can attract fines for doing so. (The FIA opted not to fine Verstappen and Red Bull in this instance.)

Even during the red flag it was clearly Verstappen was antsy, with his radio calls after finding out his teammate was in an accident conveying his state of worry. Leaked video from inside the Red Bull garage has Verstappen mention not finishing the race, wanting to be by Ricciardo’s side instead.

///

“I remember I posted the post and people were like ‘Oh, maybe he meant it in a friendly way’ and I was like f***, I’ve got to actually spell it out for them.” Hence, the iconic post that broke the F1 world was born.

[Daniel’s tweet.]

It’s 2020, and the Australian Grand Prix has just been cancelled due to COVID.

All the drivers and teams are left scrambling to try and leave the country before the borders close, and Daniel Ricciardo has just invited Max Verstappen to stay over at his house in Perth.

“I don’t think I can even call it a friendly gesture, because as much as I like the other guys on the grid, there’s no way I would’ve invited them over.”

///

“Yeah, I won a championship. But I’m still the same person.”

Ricciardo’s often been somewhat of an open book, he says—whether it was for the better or for the worse. Every aspect of his life has been so highly publicised, from winning races to what it looks like when he’s not, it’s remarkable how he still holds nearly the same candour, even if his name and career has seemingly been dragged through the mud a thousand times over by the media.

Last year he publicly came out in a F1-related podcast, to what he says was very unplanned. “I didn’t plan to come out, let’s say, it just kind of happened.

“I didn’t even plan to come out, let's say, it just kind of happened? I was recording a podcast and I was talking about 2022 and how it unfolded, the support systems around me and I said “my partner”, and a part of me went Oh, shit! I hadn’t talked about my relationships at length before that, and I knew people were going to absolutely run with it and then I was like—well, might as well just go the whole nine yards, so then the second reference to my partner I very deliberately dropped in he. And that was it.”

“I remember so vividly, I went home that night and I told Max, oh I think I did something stupid and his mind immediately went to me accidentally leaking like team secrets or something big like that, and I was like no, I may have accidentally came out and within like three seconds you could see is brain just switch.

“There is no we found the elephant in the room or whatever. The elephant has always been in the room and it’s just decided to make its presence known.”

“Look, I definitely understand some of the criticism that some people may have with F1 or Red Bull or us capitalising on our relationship or whatever, but I think now more than ever there’s a need to perhaps know who the drivers are when they aren’t driving.” Ricciardo adds.

“Because it’s all fine and good if John Smith is winning races and driving amazingly, but if you know next to nothing about the person because it seems like they’re packed up and shipped race to race, you’re not going to root for the guy because they’ve made no connection.”

Ricciardo quickly clarifies that it’s not a negative for sports people or celebrities to maintain their personal lives, but he sees it more as a way to express or show what he wants to show in his own lives. “We spent nearly five years it near complete secrecy from the outside world and whilst I’m not saying that we should’ve just been public right from the start—we probably wouldn’t have survived—I was just wanting to post a photo of Max burning dinner or something and not have gossip magazines or Instagram accounts dissect every pixel of it.”

Did Ricciardo get pushback from the FIA or his team? It’s a difficult question to answer, he tells me. NDAs and whatnot. He says, “The team was wonderful about it, though. Had multiple team members come up to us willingly to fight the higher powers if needed which was very sweet.”

“Let’s just say there were conversations that I had been made aware of that had made me feel like we weren’t even allowed to look at each other when we were in the paddock. I felt like they were asking me to only refer to him as my teammate, stuff along those lines.”

///

“One of our friends told us at our wedding something along the lines of for F1 drivers, you did move pretty fucking slow in your relationship! And Max was like yeah, did you know who we were in 2018?” Ricciardo laughs loudly, scaring one of the cats who seemed ready to take a nap.

///

“I used to rely so much on what other people thought of me, it wasn’t enough that I thought I was the best guy out there, you also had to think I was the best guy out there.”

///

Racing has always been part of Ricciardo’s life, but he doesn’t want it to be the only thing now in his life. He wants you to ask about things not related to racing, like how much he loves his family or how he thinks the Buffalo Bills are the greatest NFL team on earth.

“I’m not going to do this forever, you know?” He says, finishing the can of Red Bull he’d been slowly sipping throughout the course of this piece. “I hope when I look back at these years of my life I’m going to be equally proud of what I did in the car and what I did outside of it.” — With reporting done by Tylda Rune-Liberi and Nicolas St. Revelate.

CUT: Max and the team getting called up to the FIA

WHY: The FIA seems like an organisation who might send me a cease and desist if I wrote them as quietly homophobic. I don’t have money for a lawsuit. Also wanted to keep the universe happy because the real one is not. Still think my Mad Mex reference is funny.

Autosport @/autosport

Breaking: Max Verstappen summoned to the stewards after allegedly breaking parc ferme rules.

12 replies 90 reposts 821 likes

—

F1 - 2026 AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX - POST RACE PRESS CONFERENCE - TRANSCRIPT

23.3.26

Q: Sorry, Daniel just coming back to you now. We’ve just received word that Max Verstappen has just been summoned to the stewards for breaking parc fermé conditions, any reaction on that?

Daniel RICCIARDO: For what?

Q: Uh, we think it might be related to post race procedures around weighing. Not entirely sure yet, his meeting is at 6:15pm.

DR: Well there goes our dinner plans. To be fair our dinner plans were literally just Mad Mex in our hotel rooms before flying to Perth, but still.

Jack DOOHAN: Mad what?

DR: Mad Mex? You know, the Mexican fast food place. Surely you’ve had it.

JD: Oh, I thought you said Mad Max and I was like, “He finished P4 that doesn’t seem too bad.”

DR: Did Max not do the weigh in or what?

Q: He did, after your podium. Sorry mate, even more bad news for the team, they’ve been summoned to the stewards as well.

DR: If I find out I’m going to lose another podium about ten years on after the race here I’m gonna be pissed.

Q: This one is related to Article 26.13 b, where “Unless authorised by the FIA, no one under the age of 16 is permitted in the pit lane at the following times: b) The period commencing fifteen (15) minutes before the pit exit is opened to allow cars to cover reconnaissance laps and the time when the last car enters the parc fermé after the sprint session or the race has ended.”

DR: What cause we had our daughter with us at the podium celebration?

Q: Quite possibly, yeah.

DR: That’s interesting. I—yeah, I’m just gonna say that’s interesting.

Oscar PIASTRI: Kevin had his kids with him in Monza twenty four, didn’t he?

DR: Yeah, I’m sure the team will have a lot to say so we’ll just leave it at that.

CUT: Reaction to Australia winning

WHY: Timeline changes. Original timeline was Australia 2026 being their first race back after Las Vegas and relationship/kid reveal. I apparently also cut the all Australian podium. Can't remember why.

[Photo 1:

Photo 2:

Photo 3:

Photo 4: Lucinda holding the constructor trophy on the podium, Daniel giving a big grin next to her.]

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danielricciardo Never thought I’d be able to share a podium with two other Aussies but what better time than at our home race. @/jackdoohan @/oscarpiastri @/redbullracing 🇦🇺❤️

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ausgp Surely this gets us a public holiday?! @/auspm

oscarpiastri We’re about to get even more annoying…

—

Oracle Red Bull Racing @/redbullracing

Don’t mind us, we’re just in a puddle of tears over how cute @/Max33Verstappen and @/danielricciardo are 😍😭🫶

[Video: Taken from behind the parc ferme barriers, Daniel holding Matilda as Max hugs him, one hand around his waist and the other around the back of his neck.]

—

jeanie 🤠 @/COTADANIEL

flabbergasted about how well max and daniel hid their relationship from the world because man that he looks at daniel like he hung the moon stars and the sun and we’ve just been blind to notice

jake @/381racers

Maxiel admin logged on today thank you universe 🙏

—

DANIEL: Yeah, I just didn’t think I was able to have this, you know? If you had told me like seven years ago that hey, “You’ll be winning again and Max and your kid will be right along with you”, I would’ve laughed in your face. There is still absolutely more work to do, but I’m just glad I get to have my little moment without like some of these outside factors screaming and kicking at us.

CUT: Jake @/381racers meeting Daniel

WHY: Felt too indulgent. Loved it, but I think the idea pushed the boundaries/fourth wall maybe A Little too much, even for my low standards.

jake @/381racers

Only felt right that I get this signed

[Photo: Jake’s infamous tweet “Max Verstappen can you fight?” printed out and framed. Max has signed it and wrote “Yes he can.”]

—

jake @/381racers

First photo really Daniel did you have to shame me further . I thought we had a promise. Anyways, here's the video of me meeting them.

[Video: Jake meeting Daniel, in Red Bull hospitality. They’re both sitting down in chairs, and Jake has his hands on top of a frame placed face down on the table.

JAKE: Do you remember like two years ago in COTA you wore a leather jacket outfit and basically the internet blew up because of how good you looked?

DANIEL: Yeah, with the cowboy hat and everything!

JAKE: And there was a tweet that trended on that weekend—

Daniel sits up in his chair, eyes widening in realisation of who Jake is.

DANIEL: Oh my god you’re “Max Verstappen can you fight?” guy?!

JAKE: Embarrassingly, yes.

DANIEL: (offscreen) How did you find him?!

OFFSCREEN: Remember when I said I was going to bring my boyfriend this race?

Daniel looks back and forth behind the person offscreen and Jake multiple times before bending over and laughing hysterically.

OFFSCREEN: Yeah, I’m not happy about it either.

DANIEL: Oh my god did I like cause you two to meet?

jake @/381racers

No I too am not happy about my internet history coming back to bite me

CUT: Interview with Lawrence Baretto

WHY: I ran out of time. I had planned to post this at the end of Jan, but since I didn’t post that NYD bonus fic, I didn’t wanna go a month without an update so this got culled. Also my vague illusions to Max’s dad felt a little weird.

Exclusive: Daniel Ricciardo on retirement, 15 years of F1 and family with Lawerence Barretto

When I ask about his daughter and if they have any interest in making her follow in her parents footsteps, he shuts down my line of questioning pretty quickly.

“No,” he immediately says. “I’m not going to write out a path for her to follow, or put expectations for her to go into karting because of a family legacy. I think Max knows it a little bit more than me, how the expectations of someone who’s meant to take care of you can tarnish the thing you love.”

Jos Verstappen, Max’s father and former F1 driver hasn’t been seen in the paddock since 2023. Both declined to comment when asked.

“If she wants to start karting, then we’ll probably have a very long conversation about how it’s important that she finds it fun and if she doesn’t then she doesn’t. It’s not important to me that she wins or whatever, I just want her to enjoy it.”

Chapter five: 2027

CUT: Drive to Survive script

WHY: I did not have the energy to write a full script, and I felt like there were too many events to write about and I could not do it justice. Also I would like idk if Max and Daniel would show Matilda on DTS which is crazy because Matilda is not real…

—

Drive to Survive

Season 10 Episode 10 “One final rodeo…”

After fifteen years in the sport, Formula 1 says goodbye to Daniel Ricciardo.

[00:20:26]

INT. HOTEL ROOM INTERVIEW

PRODUCER: We don’t have to talk about Las Vegas.

DANIEL: No, it's fine. Probably should. Uh—yeah.

PRODUCER: We can take a minute.

DANIEL: Yeah, thanks. I didn’t talk about it last year did I?

PRODUCER: No. Okay, we’ll cut.

CUT TO BLACK.

Sound of car crashing into wall, before it fades in to show the Red Bull in the pitlane wall. Cuts to people reacting—Red Bull employees, fans in the grandstands and then a birds eye aerial view of the crash, showing the medical and extraction crew.

PIERRE HAMLIN (V.O): Daniel, are you okay?

Cuts to Max’s T-CAM footage, him driving past the car.

MAX (V.O): What the fuck happened?

PIERRE: Daniel, please just press the radio button so we know you’re okay.

Cuts to Daniel’s T-CAM footage, his helmet leans against the left side of the halo, indicating he’s unmoving.

PIERRE: Daniel, can you hear me?

Cuts to showing the Red Bull pitwall, everyone looking at each other worried.

DANIEL (V.O): The first thought I had was: Shit. This is really bad timing. Second thought I had was: Max is going to kill me.

Cuts to Daniel's forward facing cockpit onboard, him moving his head and looking up and down the cockpit.

PIERRE: Daniel?

DANIEL: Yep. Fuck. My chest, fuck. Shit, is um the other driver okay?

PIERRE: Yes, he's okay but don't worry about him. Do you think you can get out of the car?

DANIEL: Yeah no, I don't think that's happening with breaking something. Fuck, my ribs. Oh god. I think something's broken.

PIERRE: Okay Daniel, the medical team are nearly there but do not move if you think it will cause more damage. The car is safe, so do not worry about anything else.

DANIEL: Yep, okay. Um, will someone tell Max I'm okay? Just, don't freak him out yeah?

PIERRE: Copy Daniel, it will be okay, it will be okay. Just keep radio on please.

DANIEL: Okay. Fuck, this sucks.

INT. STUDIO

TEXT: Max Verstappen, Red Bull Racing driver

MAX VERSTAPPEN: Been a while.

PRODUCER: Didn’t think you were going to agree.

MAX VERSTAPPEN: Would be a big thing if you made it look like we hated each other again!

PRODUCER: We asked Daniel what his first thought was when he had that accident. He said “This is really bad timing” and that you were going to kill him. Why?

MAX: Well, because of Matilda.

EXT. PORT HERCULES, MONACO— MORNING

Long shot of Port Hercules, Monaco, filmed from a balcony. It’s peaceful, quiet—the city sounds filling the background before we hear a baby scream in joy.

DANIEL: Matilda!

Matilda is on the floor in the living room, on a playmat and she plays with wooden blocks. Max is next to her on the ground, with his back leant against the couch, Daniel is on the couch.

DANIEL (V.O): Yeah, she’s one of the best things to happen to me. For a long time my whole life was just racing, but now she’s my whole life. Like it’s okay if I have a bad race or whatever, I’ve got to move on quickly because she’s there at home waiting.

MAX: Having a kid does change you, I think. Daniel will not say his driving has changed, but it has.

PRODUCER: In what way?

MAX: I think now he is more focused on winning every race, not that he wasn’t before. But because maybe he knows that every race matters more now. You hope that the others around you will not be too reckless so that you can go home after the race.

EXT. CIRCUIT OF THE AMERICAS — MIDDAY

TEXT ON SCREEN: 2025 UNITED STATES GRAND PRIX

RED BULL EMPLOYEE #1: Hey, welcome back Danny!

DANIEL: Thank you, thank you. Hope you didn’t miss my handsome face too much.

RED BULL EMPLOYEE #1: I didn’t know Jake went on holiday!

DANIEL: I’m gonna crash the car just for that.

RED BULL EMPLOYEE #2: No, we’re just kidding. So how’s the baby?

DANIEL: She’s great, do you wanna see a photo?

RED BULL EMPLOYEE #1: Oh, she’s adorable. Matilda was her name?

DANIEL: Yeah, yeah. We had a list but I think Matilda was the only one that stood out to us. She just looks like a Matilda you know?

///

The camera swings to the right, as Daniel’s head sticks out from the door.

DANIEL RICCIARDO: You aren’t talking shit about me, Maxy?

MAX VERSTAPPEN: Of course I am.

///

MAX: I have raced with Daniel in every single year of F1. I think it will be weird.

DANIEL RICCIARDO I think I was a pretty good darn car mechanic.

CUT: Max’s interview with GQ

WHY: If you haven’t learnt by now, I am very lazy. Honestly, I just wanted this chapter out and I knew I didn’t have the time to write a whole article. Also I don’t think Max would be this open about this relationship but maybe Daniel made him more open in this universe. I still stand by the first sentence, it is possibly the truest thing to come out of the fic.

You can’t talk about Max Verstappen without eventually talking about Daniel Ricciardo, and you can’t talk about Daniel Ricciardo without eventually talking about Max Verstappen. This was a true statement in the earlier part of Verstappen’s career, but now perhaps even more so. “He’s made me a much better person,” Verstappen comments when I ask him about his husband. “I maybe wasn’t the best person to be teammates with when I was first in Formula 1, but he stayed friends with me. Even after he left and I was not being nice to him, he still stayed. That was very important to me.”

There’s a certain aura of happiness that comes from Verstappen when he starts talking about Ricciardo, and he says it’s probably one of the most documented love stories of F1.

It started in the early morning after the final race of the 2018 season, and a drunk voicemail to Ricciardo kicked things off. “I was still mad that he was going, and I had too many gin and tonics and I called him at like 12 am or something. Obviously he didn’t answer because he was sleeping but I said really embarrassing stuff in that voicemail.” He left one more a couple hours later, asking Ricciardo not to mention it.

“He really took that to heart.” Verstappen laughs. “I don’t really know why, we would talk when we saw each other on race weekends and pretend that everything was fine between us.”

They were seemingly friends only when it was the race weekend, but off track they had never been further apart. There was a lot of resentment and unsaid conversation from Verstappen’s side, self proclaiming that his stubbornness had put a pin in their relationship. “It’s easy to say now looking back, but I thought Daniel leaving Red Bull was also leaving me. And I didn’t take it well.”

But a little bit of push and shove from his fellow friends made him realise that having Ricciardo in his life was more important than whatever feelings he had towards him leaving.

///

Verstappen proposed two years later in December 2022 at that same house. “Coordinates of the house and everything on the ring,” Ricciardo comments when he drops in to grab something from the office. “Cried like a baby when I realised.”

Deleted Epilogue:

WHY: I still can’t decide if Matilda would go down the F1 path. If she did, she is definitely a Ferrari driver. Just to mess with her dads. I think she would sign with Red Bull in the junior seasons, maybe do two seasons with Red Bull then switch to Ferrari. A Sebastian Vettel if you will…let’s hope it turns out better for her than him.

[Photo 1: A Ferrari car crossing the chequered flag.

Photo 2: Matilda on the third step of the podium, holding the trophy in the air, the Australian flag wrapped around her shoulders.]

Photo 3: Matilda hugging her parents in parc ferme.]

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mvr one home race down 🇦🇺, one more to go 🇳🇱 😉

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scuderiaferrari 👏🎉

23 March

—

SKY SPORTS: 2048 AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX

David CROFT: And Matilda Verstappen-Ricciardo absolutely sends it down the inside and makes it stick, and what a move! Gosh, I was not expecting her to pull it off but she absolutely does and gets a roar of a cheer from the home crowd, Verstappen-Ricciardo is currently in P3.

Jenson BUTTON: I mean, we should not be surprised. Daughter of Max Verstappen, a six time World Champion and Daniel Ricciardo, another World Champion. A lot of racing talent in that family, I thought the last of the late breakers was Daniel but she has really put a new meaning on late!

DC: And speaking of there is Max and Daniel Verstappen-Ricciardo, who I imagine are probably the most nervous parents in the paddock right now! A lovely nod and clap of encouragement as we watch the reaction of Matilda’s overtake for P3.

—

matilda verstappen-ricciardo @/MVR

if you’re wondering if it’s embarrassing to have your parents show up at work to congratulate you just wait till one of them interviews you in front of the tv…. thanks dad i’ve never felt so uncool before

138 replies 98 reposts 20,482 likes

—

POST RACE: PARC FERME INTERVIEW

Daniel RICCIARDO: Matilda!

Matilda VERSTAPPEN-RICCIARDO: Oh my god, please be cool about this.

DR: Just wait till I convince F1 to let me and Max double host it.

MVR: This is actually my worst nightmare. Like maybe three other people will understand what I’m feeling right now.

DR:

///

MVR: I mean I’m not worried about a legacy, if people think I’m here to start or continue a legacy then they can think that, but I’m here to race. Not carry on whatever my parents did.

#maxiel #glitter on the floor #candle wax and polaroids verse

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utilitycaster · 2 days

Note

You described C3 as frequently feeling like it's accelerating only to pump the breaks, and that really perfectly articulates some of the mixed feelings I have about this campaign. There have been a couple of times now when I've been really excited and invested in where the story is going (Laudna's death, the party split, Ashton blowing up, now with FCG's death, etc.), and then it's felt like that momentum has been either derailed or softened (either immediately or after an episode or two). It's all moments on the darker end of the emotional spectrum, so I wonder if it's folks wanting to pull back from it, but it feels like it's been a theme in this campaign in a way it wasn't in C1 and C2. Maybe there's something else going on that I'm not thinking of though?

So I think this post about pacing I made earlier this week covers this indirectly. I think it's a mix of the early groundwork for the party developing a culture of checking in with each other, working through conflict, and deciding what to do being constantly interrupted; and the fact that this is a more heavily railroaded campaign. I want to be clear - I don't think the railroading is bad at all! But I think that the prep for a campaign that had a more defined plot, especially starting quite early on, needed to be more extensive. I think it should have probably had a session zero that was a tradition one - not a playtest of two or three characters who knew each other, but the main cast members sitting down and saying "oh, huh, no one here has a high INT score" - or a heavier hand from Matt.

I think, for example, Ashton exploding was great and the choices afterwards were sound, it's just that the party doesn't have the tools to resolve this sort of conflict and so they shy from it. I also think some of the players who tend to embrace difficult choices and conflict that ultimately lead to those darker places and, in my opinion, better story, have chosen to take a back seat; and some of the players in the position to make those bold decisions have declined to make them, which is their right in terms of agency but is less of the story I personally wish to see.

I do want to note that like...they have interrupted the story but they have not yet been proven to have pumped the brakes now; it is possible the cast will pick up seamlessly with the next episode. It's really just that like...as you said, it feels like a pattern.

I suppose the next thing I'm going to say is going to be unpopular, but let's be honest, that has never once stopped me. I think a lot of Campaign 3's more passionate defenders are people who prefer what I'd consider quick, easy, feel-good highs, with a trade-off of a deeper narrative since that requires effort. The people who unironically said "must a story have conflict?" The people who just want weeks on end of downtime after this moon plot (and look this campaign has surprised me many times, and as this question indicates, not all were positive nor narratively satisfying, so I absolutely could be wrong here but I'm just increasingly like...what will they do after this moon plot. Name a significant plot hook that isn't part of the moon plot.) The people who are like "why would the party attack Bor'Dor simply because they tried to kill them? Why would Orym contact the person he clearly has a massive crush on when he's upset when other people are right there? Why would the people of Gelvaan have reservations about mind readers? Why doesn't Ross, the largest friend, simply eat all the other friends?"

But getting back to the original point I really do think that because of the different nature of this campaign - and it is different, structurally, and I don't think that's the root cause - more intense prepwork needed to be done both leading in (character creation) and in the early stages, and I think because it was going to be so tightly plotted later on I think it needed looser plotting earlier to allow the party to mesh and be easier to guide.

#cr spoilers

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skippyv20 · 1 day

Text

Jamming Magazine - An exclusive interview with Meghan Markle

Meghan Markle is CEO and founder of Ain’t It Crap ( AIC) . This is a new and exciting venture she has planned since she was 11. When she was 11 she helped change the way men and women thought of dishwashing. She alone did that! Washing dishes was not any longer just a “woman’s work”. She wrote to the soap company and put her foot down. At 11 years old. That change was revolutionary for all. It was at this time she realized she had power like no other. She could use her (whiney) voice and change anything she wanted. She was powerful.

I sat down with Meghan for a “exclusive” interview, and let me tell you….it is time I will never get back. We sat down at one of the many homes she rents. There were no children present. Harry was not present. I don’t know where they were, as she never answered when I asked, she just starting talking!

Interviewer: Meghan, so look at you! You are beaming! You must be quite proud of yourself?

Meghan: Well, yes I am. Although I must say, I am always proud of everything I have ever done. When I was 11 I wrote to a soap company. I changed….

Interviewer: Excuse me Meghan, we are here to talk about your new company and your only product Jam….

Meghan: Who is in charge here? I am! Anyways, I saw a tv commercial and the woman was washing dishes! Well, knock my socks off! No way! I found a pen and paper and wrote a letter! I said it was wrong to have women washing dishes! Women have one place only, and it’s not in the kitchen washing dishes! Anyways, I strongly suggested that I would NEVER buy their soap again, unless they put out a commercial right away with a man washing dishes! I changed the way people all around the world view dishwashing. I alone did that at 11. Next question?

Interviewer: So your new product is called Ain’t It Crap. How did you come up with the name?

Meghan: Well, when I was 11….I had a vision of me, myself and I owning a company. Not just a company, but a company that would surpass Betty Crocket! I wanted a company that both men and women could purchase from. I wanted a company that could pass off anything. A secret? My ultimate dream was a company SCAM….and what rhymes with SCAM? JAM does! I knew my first and only product would be JAM. I wanted to do things differently. I refuse to put any ingredients, etc on my label! It’s no one’s business how many calories are in it. No one’s business what ingredients are in my JAM. Although I will tell your readers only….the ingredients are a mix mash of fruits and veggies, lots and lots of food colouring, and a teaspoon of honey. Do I make it myself? Oh no! I can’t even boil water! I can only “act” like I cook for the cameras!

Interviewer: It is said that Harry cooks the JAM? True, or not true?

Meghan: Look, Harry has one job! His job is to keep trying to convince the world he is a Prince. I would say a Prince can sell JAM easier than Tony, Bob, Joe down the street! Shout out to you Tony, Bob and Joe!

Interviewer: So who does make the JAM? People are saying only 1 jar of JAM exists? They say, you buy other jam, and package it as your own?

Meghan: You know, haters will always hate! People are so jelly of me, people don’t see the amount of time and number of people it takes to make one jar of my JAM! Can we take a break? I feel one tear, left eye coming…there it is…. Did you get the picture? Focus in on the tear.

Interviewer: Is your JAM good, what does it taste like?

Meghan: Where did you learn to interview? It is the BEST JAM in the whole wide world. There is nothing like it! Listen, I pay for people to like it, you can see that in my two reviews! They love it! I think this is about my race. Are you a racist? You don’t like my JAM? Have you tried it? Here, try it!

Interviewer takes a taste.

Meghan: Why are you making faces? Is it because I am biracial? Why?

Interviewer: That is the worst JAM I have ever tasted. I would not buy it, I would not tell anyone to buy it.

Meghan: You are a racist! Harry is going to sue you when I tell him! You will pay for this, I will sick the sugars on you! I will ruin you! You have done nothing but pick on me…and my JAM!

The interview did not end well! She threw chairs, threw herself on the floor, kicking and screaming…threw the jar of JAM, and her wig went flying! It was quite the scene. She couldn’t calm down. She was even hissing like a demon. Don’t buy her JAM! You don’t know what is in it! Could be Devil’s JAM for all we know. Could be DNA changing weapon….we just don’t know!

NOTE: Parody only! For fun and entertainment. Not a reflection of actual product.

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amorisastrum · 1 day

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How to use tone tags! :D

Because @flaming-green asked and also neurodivergence !!

Long post woah

Commonly used tone tags:

/j = joke

/hj = half joke

/ly or /lyr = lyrics

/pos = positive

/neg = negative

/lh = light hearted

/nm = not mad

/s or /sarc = sarcastic

/nbh = no body here (this is used alongside a rant/vent that has not named a specific person- people may think you are talking about them and spiral)

/genq = genuine question

/nf = not forced

/plat = platonic

/r = romantic

/srs = serious

/t = teasing

Why use tone tags?:

Tone can be a very difficult thing to pick up, especially through text. Use of punctuation and capital letters and certain word choices can make a sentence seem completely different. For example, if I received a text saying "Come see me right now." I would instantly think I was in trouble and would panic. However, if I received that same message with a "/nm" I would feel much better about the situation. People use punctuation in different ways as well! I personally use exclamation marks to show how excited I am !! While for others, a multitude of exclamation marks could indicate sarcasm. Same with the use of emojis. I personally use some emojis to indicate sarcasm, but I know people who use those same emojis to indicate... Well, what the emoji is showing. So, to use a tone tag avoids any sort of miscommunication.

When to use tone tags?:

Deciding when to use tone tags can be difficult. I personally use tone tags when I reread a message and realise it is ambiguous in tone, or when I reread it, it sounds more aggressive or rude than I intended it to be.

If somebody asks you what you mean by a message, this is probably a sign that you need a tone tag of sorts. Not all people are going to interpret things the way you intend them to be, so tone tags as a whole are helpful to avoid miscommunication. Sometimes the context of the message being sent can change someone's perception so tone tags are not always needed e.g. "omg I love you so much! You're so awesome!" This may be seen as genuine, while "omg you're so awesome." Can be seen as sarcastic. It depends on how that person's brain works.

If you are talking directly with one person, or a small group of people, and you know their typing habits (such as using emojis for sarcasm or use of punctuation) then tone tags may be needed less! But if you are talking to a group of people, such as on Tumblr, it may be easier to use tone tags as more people will see what you've said and... Well people may not understand what you meant!

Some words may have different connotations through different contexts, such as the word "silly". But sometimes people may not understand that context. I typically use Silly in a positive way, but at one point I referred to a character I didn't like as a "silly man" with my friend who had no clue who this character was. To them, this meant I liked this character, which left them confused when I started talking about them in a bad way. So, I started adding "/neg" anytime I meant silly in a negative way to avoid confusion.

Other tone tag things:

Try and avoid piling of tone tags at the end of a message/post as this can be confusing. Id say try to use no more than 2, 3 at a maximum.

If you're cutting into the middle of a message with a tone tag, you can use brackets, but you don't have to! Do what makes you comfortable.

Use punctuation where you see fit.

You don't have to use tone tags for every message you send/everything you post! Use them when YOU think the tone could be ambiguous or if someone has directly asked you what you mean.

You don't have to know every tone tag ever. I've been using tone tags for a good 2 maybe 3 years now and I mainly use /nm, /j, /srs, /sarc and /pos.

I also use /silly, which I'm not sure is an actual tone tag. I use this if something I say seems passive aggressive or if I am in fact just being silly.

I hope this has helped! Tone tags are something that help me communicate with people and make me more comfortable! And I hope they can make it easier for you to communicate as well :]

Also sorry if this makes little sense it is 2am. Feel free to add any more information in reblogs or replies!!

#tone tags #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #tone indicators #percy rambles #long post #there was another paragraph #and then i accidentally deleted it because silly mobile app #and i forgot what it said #(I'm going to try and sleep now goodnight)

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cottoncandyafterdark · 2 days

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Kunikida SFW Alphabet

Character(s): Doppo Kunikida (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Tags: SFW, fluff, alphabet meme, headcanons

Warnings: None

Notes: Originally posted on ao3 here; uses an a different SFW alphabet template than I usually use as this was the first one I ever did

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

We all know Kunikida has a lot of criteria for the ideal partner, and you might not necessarily fit all of them, but he will love you for any of those traits you do have.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

He'd probably say your eyes or something nice and romantic like that but in his heart of hearts, Kunikida is a leg man through and through

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

He's pretty low-key about cuddling; usually he prefers to just sit with you with his arm around your shoulders, holding you close. He also likes to hold you while falling asleep, and prefers to be the big spoon.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Something traditional and romantic. Dinner at a nice restaurant, followed by a walk through a park. He'd rather it not be too crowded, if that's at all possible to achieve, so he can just focus on you and on making the night as enjoyable for both of you as possible.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

He has a tendency to not show strong emotions unless they're negative. He'll definitely let you know if he's angry, one way or another, but it takes a bit more work to coax a smile or laugh out of him. It comes a little easier than normal around you, though.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

Kunikida has multiple pages dedicated to the topic in his ideals notebook.

He'd like to have exactly two children- he doesn't mind whether they're adopted or biologically related to him-, preferably by his mid-to-late 20s. He knows he doesn't have any control over the gender of his children, but having one girl and one boy would be ideal. He has a shortlist of acceptable baby names, and will not deviate from it. He will let you pick what name from the list to give your child(ren), though.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?

Kunikida isn't a spontaneous gift-giver- he'll get you gifts at Christmas, on your birthday, Valentine's, etc. but not really outside of those occasions. He might give you flowers if you're going on a date, but that's about it. He just prefers other ways of showing his love for you.

He does try to make sure those gifts he does give you are good, though. He pays attention to things you want but can't or don't get for whatever reason throughout the year and you can bet you'll be getting some of those things for Christmas or your birthday.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

Hand-holding is one of the few acts of affection Kunikida is willing to do in public. He likes holding your hand a lot, because it feels nice, and it has practical benefits as well. It's a simple way of showing affection and displaying that the two of you are together, plus it's harder for the two of you to get separated. The way he sees it, there's no real reason not to hold hands.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

He'd be very concerned, of course. If it was a life-threatening injury he would take you to Yosano, but he'd rather not subject you to that, so if it's serious but not immediately life-threatening, though he would take you to the hospital and, once you were home, would make sure you were resting and recovering properly. Expect a lot of scolding along the lines of "don't do that, you'll tear your stitches". It might be annoying but it's just because he cares (and he's probably right, anyways).

J = Jealousy (do they get jealous?)

He doesn't get jealous, exactly, because he trusts that you'll just turn down anyone who's flirting with you, but he does get irritated and intervene if they persist. Not because he's worried they'll take you away from him or something but because they have the nerve to keep bothering you after you've rejected them and he does not stand for people being so rude to you.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

I hope you like sweet, gentle kisses because Kunikida sure does. That'll likely be how he greets you every day when he gets home from work. You can also expect a quick peck on the lips whenever he leaves. Or whenever the mood strikes him, really. He's also a fan of neck kisses when things get a little steamier- but that's a discussion for a different time.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

Kunikida is surprisingly big on physical affection- only when you're alone in private and have been together for a respectable amount of time, of course, but still. You'll get plenty of gentle kisses and quiet moments sitting together with his arm around your shoulders.

He'll also tell you he loves you plenty- again, once you've been together long enough that he feels it's appropriate. After he says it the first time, though, and you return the sentiment, he gets much more comfortable saying it often.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

Any time that you comforted him. His job can really take a toll on him, and when you try to make him feel better it really lets him know that you care about him. Remembering all those little moments makes him feel very loved.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

There's two potential scenarios that he worries about: the first is that he'll get killed on a job and leave you alone without even getting to say goodbye. The second is that you'll be attacked and hurt or even killed by the Port Mafia or one of Agency's other enemies. He's well aware that both are very real possibilities, too, and will do everything in his power to ensure neither one comes true.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

Well, it's Kunikida. You're going to have to get used to his scheduling and notebooks pretty quick. He doesn't do spontaneous- all your dates and stuff are going to have to be planned in advance pretty much down to the minute.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Your name, mostly. Pet names just aren't his thing, really. If he's in a particularly romantic mood, he might let a few slip, like "my love", "darling", "dear", stuff like that.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

He likes to cook with you. Even if you're not a very good cook, hell, even if he isn't, you will learn together and it'll be so worth it when you two finally get it right.

Outside of that, he's happy just to sit and talk with you. You can tell each other about how your day went, any books you've read or TV you've watched, anything, really, so long as you can hold a conversation.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Kunikida seems like a fan of what I like to call Dad Music- American rock from the 70s and 80s. He doesn't understand the lyrics, since they're in English, but he doesn't mind that- if anything it just makes it easier to listen to it while he works or focuses on something else. So you'll probably end up associating that type of music with him. (Sharp Dressed Man by ZZ Top stands out in particular though, for hopefully obvious reasons.)

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

Kunikida doesn't want to keep secrets from you, he really doesn't. But it's kind of inevitable in his line of work, especially if you aren't with the ADA yourself. He can't always let you know exactly what he's been doing, either because it's classified or, more personally, because it's dangerous and he doesn't want you to worry about him. Outside of those work-related matters, though, he tries to be as open as possible. Communication is the key to a good relationship, after all.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

It took A While, mostly because it took a pretty long time for Kunikida to figure out that not only did he have feelings for you, but you returned those feelings. Once he figured that out, though (possibly with some "help"- read, relentless teasing- from Dazai), he didn't waste a lot of time in asking you out.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

Kunikida isn't the most comforting person by nature. He'll try to get you away from whatever's making you upset first and then stay with you as you calm down. He might not say anything, but if you need him to hold you or something like that he will.

If you're upset at him, though, it's a slightly different story. Arguments with him are pretty rare, but they can easily get very heated when they do happen, and he'll probably need to leave you alone for a few minutes to calm down. Once he's calm, though, he'll come back and try to talk it out.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He doesn't exactly show you off, he feels like that would be immature, but make no mistake, he is proud of you and your relationship. If you make any kind of major advancement in your life, like getting a promotion, he will be so proud of you.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

This probably depends on your circumstances a little- if you're with the ADA or have otherwise shown him you're capable of fighting, he'd presumably know you're more than capable of holding your own and do what he could to back you up in a fight.

If you aren't a good fighter, though, he would do whatever he had to in order to keep you out of a fight. He doesn't want you getting hurt and you can bet he'd fuss at you a lot if you Leeroy Jenkins'd into a fight anyways.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

Kunikida is not great at reading people, though it might come easier with someone he's very close to like you. Still, you'll have to be upfront with him about how you're feeling. He'll be able to tell if you're really upset about something but might not be sure what you're upset about; just tell him and he'll try to help. (He isn't super comforting by nature, either, but he'll try.)

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

After you had been dating for a few years, he would take you on a date- most likely what was described in the 'D' section, dinner at a nice restaurant followed by a walk through a park. This wouldn't be the first time you've gone on such a date, but you would be able to tell right away from how he's acting that something is different about this time.

He would propose at the park. He'd wait until no one is around- he doesn't want you to feel pressured by a public proposal- before dropping to one knee and popping the question. He'd be nervous as all hell, but of course that would disappear as soon as you said yes.

He'd start planning the wedding pretty much immediately, if he hadn't started already. He'd want your input on everything, of course, but unless you decided to really take charge he'd definitely be the most in charge of planning.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Getting to go home and sit or lie down next to you. If he's had a particularly frustrating day he'll vent to you about it too but you don't even have to say anything, just your presence is enough.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo #kunikida x reader #bsd headcanons #bsd x reader #old fic

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