#also i hope that we see side order next season

[diaryofageekgirl]

Cross-posting my meta/ranting from the Helluva Boss subreddit. Originally posted June 22, 2024 (here):

IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: I love both Stolas and Blitzø. I'm super invested in this relationship. Both of them made mistakes, but both of them are also coming from places of trauma and previous fucked up interpersonal relationships. That being said, I don't really feel the need to point out how Blitzø fucked up, because so much of the fandom is so biased towards Stolas that everyone is already well aware of that part of the problem. I'm also very aware of the fact that Stolas has grown significantly as a character, but sometimes people in the audience forget the difference between what WE know, and what the CHARACTERS know. Now that that's out of the way...

Oh my god, THANK YOU. There was one particular line in Apology Tour that stuck out to me, especially because Blitzø's reaction wasn't what I hoped it would be.

Stolas: "I don't look down on you! How many times do I ha- when have I ever?!"

Oh, I don't know dude, maybe the entire first season?!

Episode 1: refers to Blitzø as "my little imp" during the phone call (using his bottom-of-the-hierarchy species as a cute pet name is..... bad. It's bad). Also just fully ignores the fact that Blitzø tells him that it's not a good time, that he doesn't understand what he's saying (more than once!) and clearly just agrees to the deal in order to deal with the more pressing issue of being shot at.

Episode 2: CONSTANTLY flirts with Blitzø using incredibly sexual language throughout the episode, even when Blitzø repeatedly tells him that he doesn't want to be flirted with while he's working. (That's not even going into how he completely ignores Octavia's emotions/reactions to what's going on around her and just focuses on himself and what he thinks is a good idea in the moment. That's two for two on episodes where his stunning lack of self-awareness shines through).

Isn't in episode 3 or 4. Though I will take a second to acknowledge one line in episode 3 - when Blitzø charges into the room and challenges Verosika and her crew, one of the succubi says "Is this little imp boy starting a demon duel?" Yet another example of imps being treated as lesser by other demons.

Episode 5: The constant heavy-handed flirting in public, again, even though Blitzø repeatedly tells him not to, again. On top of that, there's the "itty bitty imps like yourself" comment that he makes to Blitzø while in bed, and not even a minute later, tells him in cutesy UWU baby talk that he's "sowwy his cwients wiw have to wait" - not taking Blitzø or his work seriously. And, of course, we get Striker telling Blitzø that Stolas treats him like a plaything.....

Episode 6: ......aaaaaand the very next episode has Stolas literally calling Blitzø his "impish little plaything". Side note, but I feel like most discussions about Stolitz's dynamic and the imbalance present in it focuses on this line in particular, but not the rest of his behaviour throughout the whole first season. He is constantly making aggressively sexual comments, oftentimes right after being asked or told not to by Blitzø, sometimes after being told more than once.

Episode 7, he's actually fine. Hiding his face when Ozzie singles him out isn't great, but he had just been publicly embarrassed, and if you watch in the background, he does get up from the table (likely about to try to help Blitzø) right at the end of Verosika's bit, before he's interrupted by Asmodeus. And while I'm certain he really did just want to "talk, or watch a movie, or cuddle", I can also see how easy it would be for Blitzø to interpret that as him asking to Netflix and Chill, as it were.

(Also, not a major thing, but having a little plush imp doll as a kid (as seen in S2E1) feels.....really weird, to me? Like I know most posts on SocMed and reactions on YT just see it as cute, and I'm probably reading too much into it, and I know that IRL toy dolls and stuffed dolls of people are a common thing, but just the idea of a prince having a plush doll of a low-class citizen feels really bad. A literal plaything, if you will.)

Season 2, Episode 2: Not much, but even though they had a tiny bit of a fight (if you can even call it that) after Ozzie's, and even though they haven't been communicating super well, and even though he's concerned about finding Octavia, Stolas still finds an opportunity to make a sexual comment towards Blitzø.

Season 2, Episode 4: Ohhhhhhhhhh my god, I never even used to be mad about this, but the way that it got brought up in Apology Tour made me pissed. Stolas now getting upset about Blitzø not coming to rescue him when Striker kidnapped him? Telling him that he "couldn't even be bothered to come help me"? Fuck. Off. With. That. As a father of a daughter himself, you'd think that Stolas would be sympathetic to the fact that Blitzø was trying to help out his own daughter in that scene, especially considering that he had to wait 5 fucking years for a mandatory medical procedure. Of fucking course he's not going to skip out on that! And just the way he responds to that:

Stolas: Oh, ha, ha. Well, I do agree that is very important...But, I-

(and then he's cut off by Striker). I urge anyone and everyone to go rewatch that bit of the episode, because his tone of voice is just so dismissive. Like, "yes, yes, that's nice, now drop everything and come rescue me, which is more important". And that's before he even realizes that he's in serious danger!!!

Like, I'm sorry, but where the fuck does he get off getting mad at Blitzø for "always making it about sex"? Blitzø has only ever reacted to the sexual advances that Stolas was putting out - even from the very first hook-up, Stolas just assumed that Blitzø was there to seduce him, and Blitzø just went along with it as a way to distract him while he stole the book. He agreed to the transactional fucking in episode 1 while he was being shot at and was trying to get Stolas off his back. He's expressed annoyance towards Stolas' sexual advances in episodes 2 and 5 of season 1. And now suddenly it's Blitzø that makes it all about sex?!

And what do you mean, "How many times do I ha-" Have to what, buddy? Tell him that you see him as an equal? You haven't done that yet. Tell him that you love him? You did that whole conversation in pretty much the exact wrong order and shut down when he didn't react like you imagined in your head. Tell him that you think highly of him? You haven't done that. Not directly to him, not where he could hear, not before the end of that argument, right before forcibly teleporting him away from you, which, y'know, just reinforces Blitzø's earlier comment about treating him like one of his butlers, and how he "can't just dismiss [him]."

He may not have ever actively viewed Blitzø as inferior to him, but there's a LOT of internalized classism going on that I'm not sure he's even aware of.

(continued in a later comment):

One thing I'd like to add to all of 👆 that: I mentioned a bit about other people in Hell talking down to imps, but one thing I forgot to talk about is how Stolas himself views imps that aren't Blitzø. Quick list (entirely from memory):

Refers to Millie and Moxxie as "you littler ones" in Loo-Loo Land

Refers to I.M.P. collectively as "you little creatures" in Truth Seekers

The generally condescending and dismissive way he talks to the imps of the Wrath Ring in Harvest Moon Festival - if I'm remembering correctly, he also refers to them as little! Like I get it, he's crazy tall, but we all know that's not the only way to interpret that comment.

3.5 Since Stolas (and a big chunk of the fandom) went ahead and compared Blitzø's comments to Striker's, I'm gonna do the same to him! Those comments are so reminiscent of Striker saying "you little things ain't worth the clean-up" to Moxxie and Millie, also from Harvest Moon Festival.

4. Picking up, forcefully squeezing, and swinging around his imp butler while he was mad during his phone call with Stella in Seeing Stars. I'm not saying that he's abusive towards his staff, or anything like that - just that the very fact that he did it at all seemed to be totally subconscious, which in turn suggests that he doesn't realize how demeaning that is.

5. Actually, now that I think about it - the fact that he's so upset that specifically Blitzø didn't rescue him in Western Energy. The main reason he's alive and not bleeding out in the bottom of a mine shaft is because Millie and Moxxie showed up, and they only knew to go there and help him because Blitzø told them/they were there during the phone call. Like, does he even know their names? Is he even grateful that they helped? We don't know!

I saw someone in another thread say that he was essentially at the equivalent of the "I'm not racist, I don't even see colour!" stage of racism, and I completely agree. He doesn't realize all of these internalized prejudices he has, but they are ABSOLUTELY there.

(comment on another thread, building off of the comments I made about s2e4, originally posted July 7, 2024):

Also, a few other points to build off of this & respond to other comments on this thread:

"But he didn't tell Stolas about the first time, and the Carmine-crafted gun that Striker had that can kill royal demons" - You mean the one that Moxxie took from him and still has in his possession at the end of Harvest Moon Festival? The one that Moxxie was shocked that Striker even managed to get his hands on? Remember, I.M.P. didn't know that Striker was working for anyone; logically, that means they would have assumed that he got the weapon entirely on his own, and something like that is both rare and expensive - imps don't typically "make it big" in Hell, and I can't imagine a powerful Overlord would be thrilled to give a weapon that could kill them to someone so far below them in status. With them taking it from him and keeping it at the end of the episode, it means that they would assume that he's no longer a serious threat. They had no way of knowing he was being bankrolled by a royal, with access to three more angelic weapons (two pistols and a knife) (four if you count the rope as well).

"Stolas: You knew someone was trying to assassinate me?" Uhhhhh, yeah? You were there for Loo-Loo Land, dude, you know that people are trying to assassinate you, like all the time. This isn't news in any way - and yes, Striker is generally more dangerous than any of the assassins that we saw in that episode, it still doesn't change the fact that you're already well aware that being rich and royal puts a target on your back. This is really unfair to get upset with Blitzø for. (I'm aware that this is an argument and sometimes you bring up unfair accusations in arguments and both of them were very heated and I shouldn't have to plaster every comment about this episode and this relationship with disclaimers that I'm not hating anyone, just expressing frustration.)

[cru5h-cascades]

God I wish this was what actually when down during the Splatoon 3 segment during the direct.... In other words this vid's basically "Splatoon 3 News: Good Ending"...

[norrisjpg]

no surprises - ʟɴ⁴

based on this request from @jxnellat - thankyou lovely!!

in which, lando's bias opinion regarding the open red bull seat proves to stop a new friendship blossoming - until he proves himself wrong.

contains: unconscious bias, smallest bit of angst, shit-talking, carlos not to red bull (NOO), justice for logan because i give him an extra year in f2, mentions of christian horner (AH), social media, fluff, lando admitting he's wrong, mentions of struggles with mental health, williams not being shit.

platonic lando norris x named female character (senna hamilton)

...

...

carlos sainz jr's first choice was always going to be red bull. why wouldn't it be? the team was dominating the formula 1 world, and he was sure they wouldn't fuck him over like ferrari had many, many times.

but, tough luck for him.

before he could even think about getting into talks with christian and helmut - the world was rocked with the news of formula one's first female driver, moving to her dad's previous rival team.

senna hamilton might as well have broken the media. she was currently racing for williams alongside alex albon, but had no word from her superiors as to whether they were going to extend her contract with williams or whether there was any interest from mercedes.

so, she looked elsewhere.

and honestly, it came as a shock when her manager explained that christian horner wanted to arrange a meeting to discuss her seat for 2025 - due to sergio perez's less-than-admirable performance in the first half of the 2024 season.

either way, it was safe to say, that the hamilton family had given the world yet another reason to look forward to the 2025 season, and also given them all aneurysms in the process.

lando norris wasn't one for commenting on other driver's situations, but when it came to carlos sainz jr, he didn't hesistate as much as he usually would.

"so, lando, as we know you're good friends with carlos, and well, there's now one less team for him to go to - with senna going to red bull next year - can we just get your thoughts on that?" the blonde woman asked him, steadily holding the microphone out in front of him.

"well, obviously i think carlos deserves the best available seat possible, and that would have most likely been the red bull seat - so i think he should be in the red bull - but, i do think it will be interesting to see what senna can do in the red bull alongside max, but i'm just hoping that carlos can also get a good seat for next year." lando nodded, slightly stumbling over his words as his PR manager side-eyed him.

"okay, so you think that carlos deserves to be in the red bull?"

"yeah, i do - not that senna doesn't deserve the red bull seat, i'm sure she does, but i'm just going off how well i know each of them. obviously carlos and i have known each other since 2019, i've only known senna since 2022 and well, we don't really talk much." lando shrugged, pursing his lips.

"okay, thankyou lando." the woman nodded, before he and his PR manager headed back toward the mclaren hospitality.

his PR manager looked at the interviewer as the two walked away, she had a bad feeling about this.

meanwhile, the joyful tune of 'taste' by sabrina carpenter blasted out of senna's driver room in the mercedes garage, as the british girl bounced around her room, dancing to the song - when her PR manager, cameron, walked in.

"i've got some interesting news, sen."

...

well, as hard as lando tried not to give them that headline they so badly wanted - he somehow still did.

'senna doesn't deserve the red bull seat claims star formula 1 driver, lando norris.'

now, senna wasn't usually a confrontational person, but this was bang out of order, and she definitely didn't expect it from someone she didn't know that well. therefore, she requested a meeting with lando and his PR manager.

"so, would you like to explain this headline please?" senna asked as she slid a piece of paper over to him, the headline printed along with the article - she felt like she was interrogating someone in a james bond movie.

"what about it?" lando said gruffly, not entirely sure how to react to this situation.

"this is the equivalent of me saying you didn't deserve your win in miami, and then everyone agreeing with me, lando." she pursed her lips, earning a side-eye from her own manager.

"i don't really know what you want me to say?" the mclaren driver furrowed his eyebrows. "i never explicitly said that."

"i know, i watched the interview, but you might as well have." a soft scoff left her lips. "i don't actually care if you think i deserve the seat or not, i would just like you to undo this. i face enough prejudice and discrimination as it is, but i certainly didn't expect it from a fellow competitor, i'm disappointed quite frankly, lando."

her words hit like a tonne of fucking bricks - how could he be so fucking blind? lando thought that she'd asked for this meeting to have a go at him and tell him how wrong he was, but once again, he was wrong.

suddenly, he felt almost... sympathetic for her? yes, he also experienced a lot of hate online and he knew how much it affected his mental health - but if one of his competitors had said something like he had? he'd be a fucking wreck on the inside.

"oh, um, okay, yeah." he said, a little quieter as the realisations hit him. "yeah, i'm sorry, senna."

"i don't want an apology, lando." she shrugged, a small smile on her lips. "i just want this to go away."

...

INSTAGRAM

liked by georgerussell, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen33, and 421,294 others. sennahamilton ... strong weekend in belgium, another good haul of points with alex in P8 and myself in P7. time for a much needed break after a great first half of the season, see you all in zandvoort!!

view comments ...

alex_albon ... williams are washed who???

user1 ... double points!!!

user2 ... she better not get P7 in a red bull next year

↳ landonorris ... i'd like to see you try and finish a race?

↳ liked by sennahamilton

mercedesamgf1 ... things we love to see - roscoeee!!

user3 ... red bull are seriously desperate after the first half of the season, aren't they?

↳ sennahamilton ... why wouldn't you be desperate for me?

↳ liked by landonorris

landonorris has started following you!

sennahamilton has started following you!

...

"good morning miss hamilton." a recently familiar voice chimed in her ears, and then the unmistakable bright papaya hoodie appeared in her peripheral vision.

"good morning lando." she smiled, sounding a little tired of his recent apology antics.

"i have an urgent question for you." he said, falling into step with her as they walked past the haas hospitality.

"go on." she nodded, walking straight past the williams garage.

"would you be so kind as to accompany me back to monaco this evening after the race?"

"what?" she furrowed her eyebrows, stopping in her tracks.

"you live in monaco, correct?" lando stood in front of her, maybe a foot or so away from her.

"yes." senna nodded, wetting her lips briefly with her tongue.

"and i also live in monaco, i've got a few extra spaces on my jet, and was wondering if you'd like to join me." he explained. "it'd be me, you, max, daniel, charles, and carlos."

"ah, okay, i see." she nodded. "what's brought this on?"

"well, since we're friends now, i thought- well i don't really know i just wanted to know if you wanted to come with us or not."

"uhm... yeah, okay." senna knew she was a little unsure at this sudden gesture, but she went along with it regardless. "i'll let my dad know, but yeah, thanks."

"cool!" lando smiled, trying to sound as nonchalant about it as possible - he failed miserably. "uh, we're meeting at the airport at eight in the evening, and there'll be food on the plane."

"right, okay." she responded as they began to walk again. "not to sound fussy or anything, but the food... there won't be any fish, will there?"

"ew, of course not, i hate fish." he almost grimaced at the thought, but then his brain immediately clocked onto the fact that she sounded as equally as disgusted as him at the idea. "i'm assuming you don't like fish either?"

"i'd rather skin myself alive than eat fish, lando."

why hadn't he ever bothered to talk to her before?

...

INSTAGRAM

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, maxverstappen33, and 513,482 others.

sennahamilton ... the whole point of this post is so i can show everyone how weirdly adorable lando and daniel are together - that's all.

view comments ...

landonorris ... i fly you home and you call me weird? last time bitch

↳ sennahamilton ... woah i also called you adorable so shut up

↳ user1 ... lando and senna are friends??

maxverstappen33 ... how come you always say no to me when i ask you to fly with me??

↳ sennahamilton ... i don't want to be friends with you :)

↳ landonorris ... this means you want to be friends with me??

danielricciardo ... i have no recollection of taking those photos

user4 ... i feel as if we might see a group-grid holiday this summer

liked by sennahamilton and carlossainz55

...

"miss hamilton!" lando exclaimed loudly as he skipped up to her in the quiet airport - making her cheeks grow pink in embarrassment.

"lando, shut up." senna groaned, internally praying people around her hadn't noticed that it was, in fact, her and lando.

"sorry, where is your positive attitude?" he teased, a sharp edge of sarcasm to his voice.

"in the plane." she mumbled, dragging her pink suitcase behind her as they walked toward their gate together.

"come on, sen, we're going to disneyland!" the brit cheered, making an amused smile creep onto senna's lips, mostly the mclaren driver's child-like excitement. "actually, i have something to admit to you."

"oh god, go ahead."

"i never thought you didn't deserve the red bull seat, sen." he shrugged, his tone changing but a smile still on his face. "and if anything, i knew you deserved it - maybe more than carlos."

she laughed with a small wink, "i won't tell him you said that."

,,,

ah i actually really enjoyed writing this!! the social media parts especially, so maybe i'll start doing more social media fics??

[bloodyrib]

Valentine's Day may be 27 days away, but that doesn't mean you can't celebrate right now! This fic is about your relationship with a certain clown named Art and a romantic getaway. But remember, with him you get roughness and softness, the best of both worlds. This is my first long fic and it's very kinky but I hope you all enjoy! (NSFW 18+, TW for cutting)

Word count: ~6200

It was the Friday before the weekend you had been waiting for. It had been a bit of a struggle to get your boss to accept your time off request, but after some convincing, they finally acquiesced. One weekend off won’t hurt, you thought to yourself, especially after all the hard work you had put in during the holidays. It was the middle of January now, and there weren’t that many customers coming into the department store anyways. 

You were in the breakroom standing by the sink and sipping a cup of coffee when one of your coworkers came in and started chatting with you. You both talked about how nice it was to finally be able to relax a little after the rush of the holiday shopping season. The conversation then shifted to what you were planning to do during your time off. “I’m not entirely sure, I’ll have to see. Do you have any ideas?” you asked, stirring the coffee stirrer in a counterclockwise direction. A grin appeared on your coworker’s face and she responded, “Why don’t you go to The Pines? It’s this hotel up north with great views and the reviews about it were good! My husband and I were doing some searching online for where to go during summer vacation, as we always plan way in advance, and we’re set now! You should definitely go this weekend! A-a-a-nd you can go with your mystery man who you still haven’t told us about and have a nice enjoyable time!” She winked and playfully elbowed you in the arm. You let out a soft chuckle. This mystery man you who had been dating for a few weeks now would remain a mystery to your coworkers for the foreseeable future. You were a private person and didn’t want your nosy coworkers, especially this one, to know who you were dating. Though eventually, they did end up finding out. This time, however, you were with someone that no amount of explaining would make sense to them as to why you were with him. This someone was a clown.

You remember the first time you met Art. It was a cold late December evening and you were washing dishes. You stared out the window and watched the cars pass by on the street. A blanket of snow covered the neighborhood, and everything glowed softly under the warm orange streetlights. You had the same routine everyday: eat dinner at 6 pm, watch whatever was on the television for a few hours, and then go to sleep at 8 pm. Your routine was like a grandmother’s, but you liked it, especially since most of your life you felt like you had lacked one. Life was more in order now. You turned off the faucet and wringed out the sponge when you heard some noise coming from the back of the house. It sounded like someone was going through your trash. You felt a bit uneasy but wiped your hands on your jeans and started walking towards the sliding glass door that faced the backyard. You pushed the curtains back, turned on the outdoor light, and opened the door. What you saw surprised you. 

It was a man dressed in a black and white clown costume covered head to toe in blood sifting through the large recycling bin propped against the side of the house. You noticed a large black garbage bag on the ground next to his enormous clown shoes and wondered if that was your trash bag. When the light came on, he stopped and turned his head to look at you. You saw he had a little black hat on the left side of his head. He also had a little black dot on the tip of his nose. His mouth and eyes, covered in black paint, widened and he looked more shocked and surprised than you. His mouth then turned into a smile, his teeth horribly rotten and yellowed. He took one hand out of the recycling bin and waved to you. The fingerless gloves were stained with a deep red color and his fingers, also stained with the same color, curled up and down repeatedly. 

You didn’t know what to make of this. Halloween had been over for a while now yet here was a person who clearly hadn’t gotten the message and thought it was funny to act in this unsettling manner. You were about to ask him what he was doing and if he needed help when he suddenly stumbled back a bit. He caught himself by grabbing onto the bin with one hand. The clown put his right hand to his head and looked like he was about to faint. You figured he must have been in some sort of bad accident with all of that blood on him, but he seemed overall fine except for some dizziness. As concerned and scared as you were, your heart was telling you to bring him inside and tend to him. Something about him was enticing. For reasons unknown to you, he reminded you of the animals you had taken care of throughout your childhood: the newborn kitten found abandoned in your grandfather’s rose bushes, the baby pigeon with a broken wing underneath your best friend’s treehouse, and the dog found with a sprained ankle in your middle school’s parking lot. You had nursed them all back to health and were considered a healer by your friends and family. Here was someone that needed help, and it felt wrong to leave him outside or spend extra time waiting for the ambulance which could cause his condition to get even worse, as emergency services in your area took a while to arrive anyways. Though there was a lot of blood, his costume seemed intact and his skin had no visible open wounds. None that you could see at least from where you were standing. The clown frowned and lowered his chin, looking at you with pleading puppy eyes, and then wrapped his arms around himself. He started shivering and then pointed past where you were standing, as if asking you to bring him inside. You saw the bloody footsteps leading from the corner of the house up to him, his shoes having left deep imprints in the snow. You gave in and opened the door wider, moving to the side. The clown’s frown turned into a smile and he gently bent down to pick up the garbage bag. He swung it onto his shoulder, wincing a little. When he reached the entrance, he tipped his tiny hat at you, which made you let out a small laugh. He entered inside and you closed the sliding door behind you. 

Art healed surprisingly fast. You thought feeding him your mother’s chicken noodle soup contributed to that, as it had personally healed you from many illnesses and heartaches you had dealt with throughout your life. You figured out slowly he was like a stray cat, completely avoiding water at first, keeping somewhat of a distance from you, bearing his teeth when he was upset, and giving you the occasional bap with his paw, or hand, when you did something he didn’t like. He also came and went as he pleased, sometimes being there on the couch when you came home from work, and other times having disappeared from the house entirely when you woke up. It was irritating at first that he never spoke. It felt like playing a game every time trying to figure out exactly what he wanted, but over time you understood his facial expressions and hand gestures better. You did like how quiet the house remained even with two people in it now. Not even in your wildest dreams did you think that a 6 foot something clown would show up one day in your backyard and then start living with you, but it ended up happening that way. 

Art brought a new routine to your life, one that became centered around catering to his each and every need. You and Art started getting closer over time. He would leave less often and started being more affectionate, curling up next to you while you watched a movie and wrapping his arms around you. You didn’t know his name but called him Clowny or Mr. Clown. You eventually learned that his name was Art when after you and him were done being intimate, he took a scalpel from his trash bag and cut a slit into your forearm, shoved his finger into it, and wrote out each letter onto your naked stomach. This wasn’t the first time he had used his tools on you, as you learned that nothing made him hornier than the sight of your blood. Your body was one thing, its curves and softness enticing to Art in every way, but to see it bleeding from cuts and scratches that he had caused that he would either lick up using his tongue or have you lick up from his fingers was another. You enjoyed how much pleasure you got from pain, with Art acting like a teacher guiding your mind, body, and soul to new levels of arousal and satisfaction. Your brain raced every time he gave you that look, his eyes becoming halfway closed and his mouth turning into a devilish grin, wondering what he had in store for you. You both complemented each other. Like yin and yang. Like the black and white of his costume.

You were finally off from work and in bed in your fluffy grey pajamas. The website for The Pines hotel was open on your laptop. Art was next to you, cutting into a doll he had gotten from somewhere, probably stolen from a neighbor’s kid or toy store, with a pair of scissors. He had a hacksaw and hammer on the blanket between the both of you. He enjoyed playing with and using his tools in made-up scenarios before he fell asleep. Last night, he took a potato from the fridge, drew a smiley face on it with a black marker, and glued pieces of your hair onto it that he had cut off while you were asleep. He kept injecting it with a large syringe, the liquid eventually leaking out and onto the bed, and then stabbed it multiple times with a rusty knife. After he was happy with the potato's makeover, he threw everything into his garbage bag he kept by the bed and passed right out. Like you, he had a nighttime routine, but unlike you, he was a heavy sleeper. Not even a hurricane could wake him up. 

“Why don’t we stay here over the weekend, Art?” you inquired, pointing at the screen and looking over at his direction. He stopped cutting and examined the screen. You explained to him what they offered and went to the section describing the rooms. You scrolled until something caught your eye: the Honeymoon Suite. The room looked beautiful, with pinks and reds all throughout, and there was even a heart-shaped jacuzzi. Your heart fluttered imagining yourself there with Art. The two of you, embracing each other in a bath of bubbles without a care in the world. He sensed your excitement and clapped his hands together, extending his finger and touching the screen while nodding. Your weekend was set. It was time to pack and head to The Pines tomorrow.

You stepped out of the car with your suitcase in hand and looked ahead at the hotel. It was the late afternoon and the sun had already set. The cold air seeped into your jacket and made you shiver. Art was getting his bag from the trunk. He didn’t pack any extra clothes and was in the same costume that he wore when you first saw him, except now it had been washed. You had offered to go to the store and buy him some new clothes, but he declined, shaking his head and folding his arms across his chest. He didn’t even let you wash his costume again. He was strange, you thought to yourself, but he was yours and you were his. After Art slung the bag over his shoulder, you both headed to the entrance. The hotel was large and reminded you of a ski lodge. Its exterior was eggshell white with pecan brown lines outlining the windows and walls, and the roof was also painted the same brown color. The awning had a sign on the front with the words “The Pines” written in thick black lettering. Two pine trees adorned each side of the sign. As you both walked to the glass lobby door, Art quickly ran forward and opened it for you. He was always chivalrous, something you appreciated and hadn’t seen in any of your exes. You thanked him and entered the lobby, a gust of warm air hitting your face and warming you up immediately. 

You walked to the front desk while Art took a seat at a blue lounge chair, placing his bag in the other chair next to him. Art picked up the orange throw pillow that was on the chair and placed it onto his lap, rubbing his gloved hand up and down on the shiny fabric. The man at the front desk was an older gentleman. His gray hair matched his gray mustache, along with his gray blazer and gray sweater. A gray man indeed. His behavior, however, was anything but dull. He clapped his hands together and exclaimed, “Welcome to The Pines, your very own personal paradise! How can I help you today?” He grinned widely and stared at you, waiting for a response. His name tag read “Mr. Lockwood.” You let out a soft chuckle and responded, “I’m Y/N and I made a reservation yesterday.” Mr. Lockwood clapped his hand together again before searching up your name on the computer. “Ah, I see you’ve booked the Honeymoon Suite! How exciting, a great option indeed! Is your partner here?” You turned around and pointed to Art. Mr. Lockwood looked over at Art and kept his smile. Art looked over at him and waved enthusiastically. Mr. Lockwood let out an uncomfortable chuckle. You quickly said, “We just came back from a…clown convention, yeah! We both had the same outfit on but I got tired of having it on so I changed. Busy day!” You grinned, hoping he would give you the room key already so you could get out of there. Mr. Lockwood glanced again at Art and then looked down at his desk, retrieving the room key. His smile was a bit dimmer than before. He handed it to you saying “Third floor. Once you step off the elevator, walk all the way down. It’s the room at the end of the hall. You two enjoy your stay, and welcome again to The Pines!” 

The Honeymoon Suite looked even better in person. The bed area had pink neon lights built into the white ceiling, making the ceiling and fuchsia-colored walls glow. Thick ruby red curtains adorned the wall behind the bed and the wall-length window past the bed. The floor was covered in soft dark red carpeting, reminding you of velvet. The big circular-shaped bed, underneath a large crystal chandelier, was covered in white cotton sheets adorned with rose petals. Two champagne glasses and a bottle of champagne in a steel bucket sat on a small glass cylindrical bedside table. A pink throne armchair with gold trim was near the table. A flat-screen television was on the wall opposite the bed. You looked to your right and saw that the carpeting ended and a floor of white marble started. The heart-shaped jacuzzi was not far from the bed. It was the same deep red as the curtains and encased in white marble with steps leading to the top. Rose petals were strewn everywhere. A box of chocolates, a bouquet of roses in a clear glass vase, and a bottle of bubble bath sat on an ivory-colored cabinet near the jacuzzi. 

You felt your face get hot, thinking about all the fun you and Art would have here. Before you could look at Art to see his reaction, he pushed you to the side and ran to the bed, dropping his bag on the floor and jumping onto the bed on his back, spreading out his arms as he did. You never did get over how tall he was. Even with such a large bed, his feet touched the ground. You laughed as Art picked up the petals from the bed and threw them in the air above him, each one delicately landing on his face and body. He picked up and threw the petals again, overjoyed with how they danced in the air like tiny fairies before landing back down. 

You gazed at him longingly, tilting your head to the side and examining him as if he was an alluring sculpture at a museum. You hadn’t been with him for that long but he had made your life so much better with his mannerisms and love. Even when he had gotten on your nerves, your frustration melted away when he gave you a light kiss on the cheek or placed his strong hands around your waist as you laid on your back and pulled you closer to him, your legs wrapping tightly around his slender frame as he fucked you with so much passion you saw twinkling lights on the ceiling, same as the chandelier lights in this suite. You loved how focused he was, his rich green eyes transfixed on you and making you feel like you were the only person in the entire universe that existed to him. His fingertips gliding gently over your nipples and legs felt like you were being touched by rose petals, smooth and silky against your skin. He reminded you, however, that roses also have thorns. When you were on all fours with your backside pressed against him, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you up, turning your head around and made you watch him carve his name into your lower back, adding a heart around the letters. You felt the blood trickle down until it reached his cock, still throbbing in your ass. He pulled it out and reinserted, using the blood as lube, and went faster and faster until you both came at the same time, the cum and blood mix spilling out from you and onto the floor. You were Art’s property, and he marked and used you as he pleased. You were also his serenity, a calming force in his life that had been up to this point chaotic. When he was feeling particularly upset one day, you offered him a gift that you had received from a friend: a cream-colored stuffed bear with a black bow around its neck. His eyes lit up and he took the bear and snuggled his head on it. Art also enjoyed snuggling his head on your chest and listening to the blood pumping in your heart, the rhythmic beats soothing to him and eventually lulling him into sleep. Remembering these moments almost brought tears into your eyes. No one had ever made you feel the way Art did. His complexity attracted you. You trusted him and offered yourself to him fully and completely, a bond that felt stronger than the strongest glue in the world. You came back to your senses when Art turned the television on and started browsing through the channels, one leg crossed over the other and a hand underneath his chin as he watched each show carefully. You brought your suitcase in and closed the door behind you. 

You and Art had just finished watching a cooking competition. Art himself was very competitive, always running ahead of you to get to bed first or frantically shoving your clothes from the dryer into a basket. While watching the show, he would frown when a judge liked the food of a contestant Art didn’t like and silently laughed when another contestant made a mistake. He would get especially excited seeing the knives and even got up from the bed and reached into his bag, pulling out one and pretending to chop vegetables at first, and then walking over to the television and pretending to stab a contestant on the screen. You smiled at him and he smiled back at you, placing the knife back into the bag and climbing back in bed. In the end, the contestant that Art liked won, and Art clapped gleefully and bounced up and down. “Aww, look who won! Isn’t that great?” you asked, giving him a hug and placing your head on his shoulder. He placed his head on yours and hugged you back. You turned the television off and got out of bed, placing your feet into the peach-colored hotel slippers on the floor. 

You wanted to finally relax in the jacuzzi. It had been a long drive and your car seats were uncomfortable. Art fiddled with the radio station for the first half of the ride, switching back and forth between channels and settling on one for a little bit before changing it again. You told him to stop and he glared at you and turned to look out the window, clearly upset. You instantly felt bad but remembered you had brought an assortment of coloring books and crayons with you, ones that you had bought from a bookstore after you had caught him coloring the upstairs bathroom mirror with your expensive lipsticks and bottles of foundation. You told Art that you had a surprise for him and pointed to the glove compartment. He raised his eyebrows and opened it, finding the books and crayons and kicking his feet excitedly as he pulled them out. As you drove, he had his right leg on the ground and the left one propped up on the seat, using his knee as a table to color. He placed the coloring books close to his face, doodling intently as if he was a scientist working on a formula. Art enjoyed art, and it made you happy that he was content with simple things like this. He remained occupied the rest of the way. 

Art remained in bed and watched you walk past the jacuzzi and to the bathroom. You opened the door and saw that the bathroom was pearly white, shining in the mirror lights. You changed out of your clothes and put on the robe that hung from a hook on the wall, the silky lavender-colored fabric gliding over your bare arms, legs, and breasts. You looked in the mirror and adjusted your hair before heading out. You were expecting the jacuzzi to have already been full of water and bubbles upon arrival, but understood that everyone had their preferences. It was up to you to set up everything based on what you and Art liked. 

You found the control panel on the right side and pressed the “on” button. The jets started with a loud whooshing sound. Art got startled. “It’s okay! it’s just the jets,” you said reassuringly. You put your hand in the water to check the temperature. You enjoyed scalding hot baths and showers but for the very few times that Art let you wash him, he preferred lukewarm water. You adjusted the temperature setting on the panel. After the water was the right temperature, you poured half of the bottle of bubble bath into the water. A rough estimate on how much to pour would be fine, and there was nothing wrong with having too many bubbles. You checked on Art to see what he was up to. He was fixated again on his tools, admiring a dirty box cutter covered in dried blood. After a while, the tub was full and the bubbles were fluffy and white like clouds. You couldn’t wait to get in. But first, you had to convince Art to get in with you. You had tried to make him take a bath or shower with you many times but the one time that he did, he stood in the far corner of the shower, away from the spray of water from the shower head, and watched you wash yourself before leaving after a few minutes. You were hoping to have more action with him this time around. “Art, come over here baby,” you said in a seductive voice, hoping he would turn his focus away from the box cutter and onto you. He turned to look at you, his facial expression slack. You ran your hands through your hair and over your chest flirtatiously, using a bent finger to beckon him forward. He continued watching you with the same expression when he shifted his gaze to the jacuzzi and saw the bubbles. His eyes grew large and his mouth turned into an O-shape. You noticed and exclaimed, “Yes look, it's bubbles! Come here!” Art dropped the box cutter, which landed on the carpet with a thud, and quickly ran over. 

His eyes glimmered as he watched the bubbles sparkle under the overhead light and bob up and down on the water’s surface like boats. He started popping some of the bubbles and then scooped up a handful, cupping them with both hands before blowing them back into the water. He took more and then turned and blew them towards you, beaming afterwards. You laughed and playfully splashed some water at him. Art put his hands up to block the water but some got onto his costume. His smile faded away and he stared at you, folding his arms across his chest and looking to the side with an upset expression on his face. You sighed and said, “Oh c’mon! No need to pout!” Art didn’t budge. You started to get a little frustrated, but you had to think of a way to get him to be happy again. You glanced over at the jacuzzi and started to untie your robe. It dropped to the ground lightly, and Art gave you a side-eye before facing you. His arms remained folded as he looked you up and down, an ever so slight smile beginning to appear on his face. You climbed into the tub using the stairs and settled into the middle, resting your back along the jutting curve of the heart. The bubbles almost reached to your chin and you used your hands to spread them around. You bit your lip and kept eye contact with him. Art dropped his hands and his eyes became halfway closed, his mouth turning into a devilish grin. You blushed as he started undressing himself.

Art kept his fingerless gloves on. He was fine with getting them wet with all different kinds of liquids and substances. He probably even preferred them to be like that. He bent down to take his shoes off. He rarely took his shoes off and even used to sleep in bed with you with his shoes on, but after he kicked you by accident one night resulting in you landing on your face onto the hardwood floor, you now required him to take them off before going to sleep. He pulled each sock off and flinched a little as he placed his feet on the cold marble floor. Then, Art reached to his back to unzip his costume. You added a string to the zipper after watching him struggle to unzip it before. 

The costume landed on the ground lightly like your robe, and you looked at him up and down like he had done to you. His skin was so pale it was almost glowing and his arms rested at his sides, thin like his legs. His cock was lengthy and thick. You guessed it was somewhere around 9 inches. Your mouth started watering like it did every time you saw it. He tasted like salty cotton candy and metal, and you badly wanted to experience that taste again. Art always kept his hat on however, and hated anyone touching it. One time when he was giving you head, you accidentally pushed the hat off and he immediately stopped, scowling at you and smacking your hand away before readjusting it. He resumed pleasuring you but became even more aggressive, as if it was punishment for messing up the arrangement of his hat. You very much liked it when he got mad and took his frustrations out on you. 

Art now climbed up the marble steps, almost having to tiptoe as they were tiny for his feet. He cast a huge shadow over you before settling into the water on your right side, a bit further than you had expected. Art poked some bubbles with his fingers and used his hands to move the water around. “You like bubbles, don’t you Art? I’ll buy some for you when we get home,” you said, scooting over to him. You extended your arm and set your hand slowly on his shoulder. He nodded his head. Suddenly, he grabbed your hand and pulled you to him swiftly, adjusting you so you sat in his lap with your back against him. 

Art grabbed your breasts from behind and squeezed them while licking your neck, his tongue gliding over your skin like butter and the saliva dripping down onto your collarbone. You let out a soft moan and placed your hands over his, caressing his knuckles as he caressed your nipples. He was getting hard under you, and you shifted your weight and reached down. You started stroking him, his cock veiny and pulsating in your palm. Art took one hand off your breast and grabbed your throat, pulled your head back, and kissed you while shoving his tongue into your mouth. A rush of sweet acidity flooded in and sent a wave of energy through your body. It was like you just had a shot of a powerful energy drink. The tiredness drained from you and you instantly woke up. 

He took his tongue out from your mouth and lifted you by the waist, moving you to the side. He readjusted you to face him and pushed you onto his cock, a crazed look in his eyes. You let out a loud gasp as he thrusted into you. The water started sloshing quickly as you bounced up and down on him, the bubbles moving in a frenzy to different parts of the jacuzzi. Art’s mouth hung open and his eyes were fluttering. The way that he kept pushing deeper and deeper into you, you thought he would go past your stomach and eventually reach your heart. He never ceased to amaze you with his length. You could barely talk, the only thing escaping from your lips were sounds of pleasure. After some time, you glanced past Art and looked at the closed bathroom door. Your eyes were getting blurry and your face was boiling, a sign that you were about to climax. You started bouncing on Art’s cock faster. The water and bubbles were spilling out of the jacuzzi now, landing loudly onto the floor. You had to remember to be careful when stepping out of the tub and to not slip and fall. He had shifted his hands from your throat to your ass and then to your waist, squeezing you harder and harder. His grip on you had become painful, but the smirk that was plastered on his face made you even more wet. Your eyes locked onto Art’s eyes. They shone like emeralds in a sea of milk. You felt yourself getting lost in them, a world that he only gave you access to. A world where it was only you and him. Your breathing became more rapid until finally you orgasmed, letting out a cry while holding onto Art's shoulders. Panting, you wiped the sweat from your forehead. 

Art pulled his cock out of you and got up. He stood over you like a giant, holding his dripping member in his hand and pointing to it, meaning he wanted you to suck it. You moved closer to him and got on your knees, pressing your lips to his swollen head and parting them open. He silently gasped. The taste of soap, cum, and some of your juices mingled in your mouth as you started to roll your tongue over his head and along his shaft. Thick saliva dripped down your chin and hands as you took more of him inside your mouth. 

You then used your right hand to bring his balls closer to you, playing with each one with your tongue and fingers, while your left hand jacked him off. Art’s eyes were now at the back of his head and he almost stumbled backwards but stabilized himself. You inserted his cock back to your open lips and just as you were about to continue sucking him, he shoved it to the back of your throat roughly and you gagged, tears forming in your eyes. Art pulled it out and gave a menacing look, then silently laughed and pointed mockingly at you. He grabbed the top of your hair and rammed his cock again into your mouth, but this time even farther until you felt that the tip had reached your esophagus. He pulled it out once more and you fell back a little into the water. You almost threw up but realized you were aroused again, the throbbing sensation between your legs having reignited like a wildfire. Art took great pride in pushing you to your limits and beyond. He knew you could take it and more like the good plaything that you were. 

You started to reach down between your legs with one hand when Art grabbed you by the arm and dragged you back up to him. He pried your mouth open with his hands and stuck his cock into your mouth once more, going back and forth rapidly as if your face was a fleshlight. You tried to pull back to get air but he pinched your nostrils shut with one hand and grabbed the back of your head tightly with the other. Art bared his teeth like a rabid animal, his eyes dancing wildly with madness. His prey drive was heightened, and he made sure he ravaged you like the ferocious predator he was. The room started becoming darker as the lack of oxygen was starting to affect you. Art then let go of your nose and pulled his cock out abruptly, causing you to fall back fully into the water. The soapy water rushed into your nose and you immediately got up, coughing and sputtering. As you were trying to collect yourself, Art moved towards the cabinet, tossing the roses from the vase and onto the floor before smashing it on the cabinet top. You screamed, “Art what are you doing?!” He grabbed a shard of broken glass and came towards you. Before you could react, he bent down and slashed your left cheek with the glass, causing you to wince and put your hand to your face. It hurt like hell. 

You saw him standing there grinning, his chest moving up and down rapidly, while holding a bloody piece of glass. His cock was twitching and his eyes had a tint of red to them. You felt blood gushing from the wound and tried your best to stop the bleeding. Art started stroking his cock and came on your cheek, the cum seeping into the cut. You let out a yelp as it stung. He continued to cum and spread it around, decorating your face until it looked like a frosted cake. Art looked extremely happy. He used his thumb to wipe the blood and cum from your cut, inserting it into your mouth after. You held onto his hand while licking it clean, the intoxicating flavors dancing on your tastebuds. You both kept eye contact with each other. When he felt you had cleaned it thoroughly, Art removed his thumb from your lips, a line of spit trailing, and booped the tip of your nose with his index finger. He used the same hand to pat your head, something he always did after he was satisfied with your performance. You watched him slowly turn, walk out of the tub, and grab a towel to dry himself off. After putting on his costume, socks, and shoes, he sauntered over to the bed, sat criss-crossed, and turned the television on. It was another cooking competition and you saw Art clap his hands in excitement. 

You decided to stay in the jacuzzi a bit longer, laying back and gazing up at the ceiling, a small sigh escaping your lips. You were beyond exhausted but felt more alive than ever, a wave of contentment washing over you. You put a finger to the cut on your face. It had stopped bleeding and the pain had subsided. You weren’t sure how you would explain to your coworkers and boss on Monday where you got that cut from. You could come up with an excuse about how your sister’s tabby cat scratched your face, or you could say you were trying to get a knife unstuck from tape on a package and you accidentally sliced your cheek. Either way, you didn’t have to worry about that now. You and Art still had another day at The Pines. You started thinking about what Art would do to you tomorrow, and you felt blood rush to your face. Mr. Lockwood was right. Here, it really was your very own personal paradise. ♡

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (7/7)

Mini-Series Summary:��Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

Word Count: 1800+ (shorter but sweet;)

A/N: This is the last chapter of the mini-series! I've loved a break from all my other WIPs and am surprised that I was able to complete this even if I wasn't sure where it was going 🥲 Thank you all again for the support, comments, and sweet love you've sent my way, and I hope to have more free time to write this summer now that I'm on break!🥳💞

Next Chapter

Y/N’s POV:

Four months have gone by since our mission. And to say things are different would be an understatement. 

We kept the game of hating each other going on long enough for Steve and Nat to both lose their bets. And then we each did a little betting on the side with the two on how fast we could make the other reconcile. Bucky and I both were $200 richer after that. 

The team was shocked at the new friendship, but after some consideration and after coming clean to Bucky about my reasoning for how I treated him, I felt a weight off my chest. That weight grew lighter and lighter with each person I confided in, making our explanation of no longer having a feud unimportant. 

My story was a reason for how I acted the last almost five years with Bucky, but it wasn’t a valid one. I was happy to have moved past it and frustrated that it took me this long. 

Comfort in having Bucky as a genuine friend was a gift I starved myself of for so long, and I’m happy to know that I’ll have it from here on out. 

“If Sam asks, I didn’t do it,” Bucky sped walked into the room and tried to act casual as if he had been in the space the whole time, standing next to me at the kitchen island as I cut up fruit for my snack I'd become hyper fixated on recently. 

God bless the billionaire who could keep all fruits, in season or not, on hand.

“Got it,” I nodded unphased, never taking my eyes from the cutting board before me. 

“Have I told you thank you for never questioning my antics with Sam?” The smile in his voice is evident, and I turn to see the proof of it stretched across his features as he looks down at me. 

“You've established your appreciation once or twice since we’ve become friends,” I laugh, looking back at my work. “Grab me some blueberries from the fridge, will ya?” 

As he moved and started opening the fridge, perfect timing, Sam turned into the kitchen with steam practically blowing out of his ears. 

“What did you do?” he grunted as he stomped in, fists at his sides. 

Bucky turned from halfway in the fridge and gave him a confused look. If there was one thing I learned about him while on the mission, he was a great actor. 

“Y/N or me?” he asked, pointing between us with the carton of blueberries in his hand. “Do you want an apple too?” he asked casually, one already in his hand as if Sam wasn’t seconds from shooting him from existence with Redwing. 

“Sure, why not?” I hummed, dropping the knife and wiping my hands as I turned to Sam. “What are you going on about?” 

“I know it wasn’t Y/N, Barnes. She’s been on a mission the last two days and just got back this morning. This was a premeditated hate crime.” 

“Whoa. I’m intrigued now,” I laugh, and start placing the cut strawberries into a bowl I had out and take the apple Bucky hands off to me. 

“You want to tell her about your fun, little prank?” Sam turns his annoyance to Bucky with crossed arms, and Bucky flips on the water to wash the berries in hand. 

“I would have to know what you’re talking about in order to tell her.” 

“Don’t play coy, Barnes,” he points a finger his way, and his eyes could laser through vibranium if they wanted. 

“Help us out. Give us context,” I carry on, very intrigued with what it is Bucky had done, and start cutting the apple up. 

“As if he doesn’t already know,” Sam grumbled, walking in further. “You know how I had to buy all new long sleeve thermals because my clothes don’t fit anymore?” 

I hummed and smiled down at the fruit. “Getting too swole in the gym, as I heard you tell Steve. Trying to match his bench press will do that, trust me. I know,” I raised an arm and flexed for extra measure, and he rolled his eyes as Bucky laughed and placed the cleaned blueberries on the counter. 

“Tell me why all my new shirts don’t work…” Sam looked to Bucky with a cold, calculated stare. 

“Would work be the correct term?” Bucky poked. “Would you say shirts ‘work’ or ‘fit’?” He looks at me with the tiniest smirk on his lips. I shook my head, trying to soften the smile growing on my own.

“You sewed the end of my sleeves shut so my arm wouldn’t go all the way through!” Sam shouted, pulling the shirt from his back pocket and holding it up. 

Bucky let out a ‘pft’ sound and leaned against the counter by me. “Who’s to say I even know how to sew?” In truth, I knew he was using me as a barrier when Sam eventually fell over the edge and gave into his fantasy of choking him out. 

“Shut up!” Sam growled. “You stitch yourself up on missions half that time because you hate having the nurses do it. Obviously, you know how to work a needle and thread.” 

“Needle and floss most of the time, actually,” he shrugs, and that does it for Sam. 

“I’m gonna beat your ass!” Sam stomps hurridly to the counter, but Bucky goes on the other side, estimating his moves. 

“Have to catch me first!” he said with a wicked grin, and Sam wasted no time running after him. 

As Bucky escaped the room and Sam followed behind him, I heard a “That’s what you get for hiding all the remotes in my room while I was gone, dick!” 

_______________________

A few days later, after I got a stitch ripper and helped Sam get his thermal shirts ‘working,’ I asked Nat and Wanda to join me on a girls' trip to buy a new winter wardrobe now that the seasons had officially started turning in New York. 

When we returned, Nat was called to talk with Fury, and Banner asked Wanda to be a second set of eyes for something in the lab. 

I was left grabbing my bags by myself in the den, and just as I was about to tumble to the side with the last overstuffed brown sack, Bucky came around and caught me. His hand wrapped around my waist as the other grabbed the bag that would have been my doom. 

“Thanks,” I groaned as the weight of them pressed into my wrist from the handles. 

“What happened to all those gains you got matching Steve’s bench press?” he laughed, taking at least three bags before I waved him off, taking the others myself. 

“I gave up on that challenge a long time ago. I’ve lost the muscle mass, unfortunately.”

“You didn’t lose it. Just transferred it,” he winked, curling the fourth bag I fought him taking. 

I rolled my eyes and nodded my head toward the hall with our apartments. “You do have a vibranium arm. That gives you more of an advantage than you give credit for.” 

“Just be happy this advantage is working for you and not against you,” he kicked the back of my knee as he followed behind me. “Find anything good?” 

I turn back and see him glancing in the bag like the snoop he is. 

“If I tell you, are you going to sew my sleeves shut?” I hum, turning a corner down the hall from my door. 

“Only if you hide all my remotes and then log out of all my streaming services, so I have to put them all in one by one,” he whistles a jazzy tune. “Stear clear of that, and I’ll be nice.” 

“Ooo,” I cringe, turning and looking at him as I put my thumbprint on the door to unlock it. “He got you with the minor inconvenience prank. Those are the worst.”

“Minor was an understatement. Hence the retaliation.”

We both go inside, and Bucky places his bags on the couch while I dump the remaining ones on my bed. 

“Thanks for the help,” I smile, stretching from the long day out, and shrug off my coat as I settle. 

“No problem,” he replies, but I don’t hear him move to leave, so once I throw my coat off completely, I turn and give him a look. He’s watching me intently, and I feel almost bare under his gaze. 

“Was there something-”

“Can I ask you something?” he cuts me off, and his mood shifts. 

“Um, yeah. Sure. What’s up?” I turn to him and give him my full attention cause it seems serious. 

He hesitates at first and almost looks nervous as he contemplates how to ask me whatever it is. 

“Are you doing anything tonight?” he looks around my room towards the living space. 

I follow his gaze, trying to see if I’m missing something. “Plans that I can think of... No. Why?”

“I was wonder- well. I was- I was wondering if you’d want to maybe- I mean, if you’re up for it, of course, possibly maybe, watch a movie or something?” he gets out, and oh my God. I’ve never seen him fumble over his words like this before. 

“Watch a movie?” I recap as I blink out of the idea that Bucky is 100% nervous. “You and me or with the rest of the team?”

He lets out a small chuckle and rubs the back of his neck. 

“You and me. If you’re ok with that,” he answers, looking at me bashfully. 

“I’d be up for that,” I smile and my stomach does a little flip even if I’m not sure where he’s going with this. But the teenage girl who never got to experience this before is doing cartwheels. “What movie were you thinking?” 

He seems to have a permanent smile now because of my answer, and I can’t lie and say the one on my face doesn’t hurt a little from how wide it is. 

“Lady's choice. I’ll bring one of those fruit bowls you like to make and maybe-”

“I made some cookies this morning. I hid them in the pantry because we all know Tony and Sam would have finished them off before I had a chance even to smell them from the oven,” I rush out. 

“You’re baking tends to have that effect on many people around here. I kind of miss when I was the one and only recipient of it,” he laughs. “Even if I wasn’t lying about gaining a few pounds.” 

I roll my eyes at that and start to walk to the door, stopping to put a hand on his shoulder. “We both know that your metabolism is far too magical for that to be a long-term problem.” 

“True, but I’m not against testing that theory,” he shrugs, bumping my shoulder with his own as he walks with me. 

I stop right before reaching the door and turn to him with a grin and blush I cannot control. 

“Bucky, is this a date?” 

As if he’s so sure of himself now, the nerves melt off him; he says, “I was hoping we could count it as one this time. Considering all the others were fake, even if I don't count most of them that way...”

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[thebearchives]

paper-thin walls | m.s.

PAIR. neighbour!mick schumacher x single mother!reader

SUMM. noisy neighbours was the last thing mick was expecting after the long f1 season. he's tired, he's stressed, and believe it or not, he's ready to give his neighbour a piece of his damn mind.

WC. 5.6k

NOTES. first fic of 2023, everyone cheer!! i'm trying out new styles of writing, so please lmk how you found this fic.

WARNINGS include excessive use of the word 'fuck' (i'm sorry), and...shirtless mick? as always, don't be a ghost reader!

rest and relaxation, mick. that’s what toto had told him before he waved him off at the airport. we need you in prime shape for the next season.

mick tossed in his bed, migraine prickling the back of his head as another screech came from the wall beside him. 

look like you haven’t slept in months, mate. george had thrown an arm over his shoulder, cheeky smile playing on his lips as he brought a finger up to poke the obvious bags under mick’s eye. look alive, mick. it’s only gonna get worse from here.

it wasn’t official yet, but soon, news would drop about lewis’ retirement and mick’s subsequent promotion to the empty mercedes seat. he supposed that george was right. the season had only just ended and yet already, his shared calendar was filling up faster and faster with events, testing sessions, and appearances for the new season.

i’ll tell you this now. get all the sleep you can get this break. lewis rolled his shoulders back, stretching his neck side-to-side. the now eighth-time champion yawned loudly, muttering about how he was glad to be escaping the early mornings of simulator practice that happened closer to the start and end of the off season. 

mick couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. it was strange, really, how quickly the idea of sleep had turned from attainable to something as out-of-reach as his seat on the grid had been the year prior. except, only his fight for his seat came with much less crying and screaming from his next door neighbour.

now listen, mick didn’t hate kids, alright. in fact, his older sister had brought a wonderful little boy into the world some years ago, and mick didn’t like to brag, but he was certain he was his nephew’s favourite uncle;

( “you’re also his only uncle, mick.” gina rolled her eyes as she watched mick toss her son up in the air. 

mick waved her off, laughing along with his nephew. “i’m still his favourite, aren’t i, jonah?” 

he had directed the second half of his sentence to the boy in his arms who, when addressed, nodded rapidly and smiled at his mom with his crooked teeth. 

“yeah, mama! uncle mickie is the best uncle in the whoooooole world!” )

so, yeah, it was fair to say mick liked kids. but when that kid is crying her little lungs out at 2:53 in the morning for the third night in a row? yeah, that’s when he draws a line. 

a beat passed before another set of pitiful whines reverberated from the wall. mick pulled the pillow out from under him, and stuffed it over his head instead, hoping to drown out the sounds. 

his first order of business as a mercedes amg driver? move the fuck out. 

your eyes were red, beady with unshed tears as the figurative hammers slammed against your head. 

amelia was sick— had been for the past three days now. you had been trying to soothe her cries for the past hour, but to no avail. your heart broke to see your little angel’s face contort in pain as her whole body ached. 

it’s a simple cold. your pediatrician had told you such with a small smile. she was holding on to a red lollipop that she reached over and handed to amelia. the two-year-old had reluctantly reached out and grabbed it before rushing back against your side. her forehead was burning up as you pushed her bangs away from her face, face visibly worried. it’s viral, hon. the seasons are changing. nothing to worry about.

you had a sneaking suspicion that the lady from the fourth floor with the hacking cough had been the one to infect your little girl. if only the elevator doors had closed on her that day.

( you pressed the ‘door close’ button repeatedly, willing it to close before anne from the fourth floor would reach the elevator. 

amelia giggled with each press of the button. “i wanna try! i wanna try! mommy, please can i try?” she had stood on her tippy-toes, teetering over and grabbing onto your dress as support. 

you smiled, hand leaving the button to instead ruffle her hair. “it’s all yours, little lady. have at it.”

amelia reached over and pushed her finger against the ‘door open’ button. you held in a groan as the door jerked in the opposite direction. you tutted lightly, pushing amelia’s finger to the next button over. “wrong button, baby.”

amelia ‘ohh’ed,  finger pushing against the button one again, but it was too late.

you watched as anne rushed to the elevator door with a rejuvenated fervor, wanting so badly for the doors to close right before she got on. you prayed to schindler elevators that the doors would close on her.

schindler elevators inc. was unfortunately not a god, and thus, anne got on.

“good afternoon, dear.” anne sniffled out, turning to look at the little girl in front of you. “thank you for waiting, dearie.”

amelia smiled, “you’re welcome! what floor?” 

anne coughed loudly. you tried to hide your grimace. “fourth, please.”

the doors finally closed and amelia tugged on your dress once again. you smiled at her hopeless face, reaching up to press the fourth floor button. 

anne had coughed and sneezed a few more times before she nasally said goodbye and got off on her floor. )

anne was a sweet lady, you wouldn’t deny it. but at this moment in time, you couldn’t help but curse her with all the malicious intent you could muster. you were tired. amelia was tired. and yet, nothing you were doing seemed to lull the girl into a state of slumber.

faintly, you could feel the guilt creeping up on you. the walls of your apartment complex were thin— you’d learned that the hard way. you were aware of how amelia’s cries were probably making their way into your neighbour’ houses and into the hallway, but quite frankly, you couldn’t even pretend to give a shit while you pulled amelia into your arms and took her on a little walk around your apartment. 

her loud cries slowly turned into sniffles and low whines as you rocked her around your house, showing her all the framed pictures hung around your house. one of her hands found its way to your hair, twirling some strands while the other stayed nestled between your bodies. your shirts had come off long ago— skin-to-skin was always a great comfort for amelia, and you could tell that the material of her sleeves and your t-shirt was overstimulating her greatly. 

even dressed in just a diaper, amelia’s arm, and subsequently, the rest of her body, was burning up from the fever she was running. you had a feeling that the medicine you had given her before her scheduled bedtime was wearing off, but amelia had refused to drink her milk and you were reluctant to give her another dose on an empty stomach. 

you hated to rouse her once she had finally quieted down but after being a mother for two years, you quickly learned that too much empathy could lead to your downfall. amelia needed to take her medicine now so that she wouldn’t have another meltdown in an hour’s time, and if that came at the expense of her crying just a bit more, it’d have to do.

you hesitantly pulled amelia away from your skin, hushing her lightly as she started to resist and whine. “i know, i know. i’m sorry, baby. i know it hurts.” 

you made your way to the kitchen. you talked amelia through every step, hoping to keep her distracted long enough to pull out an applesauce cup from the pantry. “we’re gonna eat some food and then give you your medicine so your body stops hurting. okay, baby?” 

amelia shivered lightly as your hand grazed over her stomach. she watched with wet eyes as you grabbed a spoon and attempted to open the cup— it was quite hard, doing everything with one hand.

“can mommy put you down?” you stopped and looked down at amelia, who frowned before slowly shaking her head and leaning into your chest again. “you wanna sit in my lap?” amelia nodded, a shuddered breath escaping her as she let herself calm down.

you worked quickly, sitting down with a tired baby in your lap and peeling open the cup. you fed amelia with slow bites, hoping she kept her food down this time. after she finished about half the cup, she started to fuss, pushing her face into your arm to avoid eating anymore. you were too tired to care about the fact that she had rubbed applesauce all over your bare arm. 

you decided against giving her the next dose of medicine until she stopped being fussy— if there was anything amelia had seemed to hate more than being sick, it was taking her medicine. the one she had been prescribed was grape flavoured, and it was by far the worst flavour of medicine you had the disgrace of stumbling across. you pitied your daughter. truly, you did, but you wanted her to get better, and if this grape-flavoured syrup was the only way to nurse her back to health, you’d do whatever it takes to get her to drink it. 

amelia was now sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket as her clammy skin made her feel cold. she watched you with narrowed eyes as you manoeuvred around the kitchen to find her medicine and her sippy cup filled with water. although you had tried your hardest to hide the bottle from her, amelia recognized the purple bottle instantly, shaking her head furiously and whining out a no, mommy.

you sighed, not wanting to experience the third meltdown of the night. half heartedly, you wished for her to just stop crying and go to sleep, entirely too exhausted by caring for a sick child while running on a combined two hours of sleep. 

you couldn’t help but mentally scold yourself; god, you were such a bad mother. here your daughter was— sick and in need of your comfort— and instead of comforting her, you’re frustrated with her tears and couldn’t stand to hear another cry. you were just so tired. yet, you had no right to complain— you knew being a single mother would have been hard, but you still went through with it. 

you took a deep breath in, trying to stop yourself from spiralling. 

you carried amelia in your womb for nine months alone. you had gave birth alone. you had spent the last three years raising amelia on your own, and god damn it, a sickness would not make you question your worth as a mother. not over your dead body.

“alright, mimi.” you crouched in front of where amelia had been sitting, a weak smile on your face to try and coax her into drinking her medicine. “you’ve gotta drink your medicine if you want to feel better, okay?— no, don’t give me that look. mommy doesn’t want to give you this either, but you have to drink it or else you’ll continue hurting all night.”

the young girl sniffled, eyes already watering again. “but it’s yucky!”

you placed the sippy cup on the ground beside you, reaching up to caress her cheek lightly. “it is, but it helps you feel less icky and achy, okay?”

amelia stared at the bottle in your hand, a frown clear on her face. you wished she hadn’t taken up your stubbornness. 

“we can do this the easy way, or the hard way, amelia.” you gave her a slightly stern look.

amelia shook her head before pushing it back and into the cushion of the couch. 

hard way, it is.

you leave me no choice, amelia. you placed the plastic feeding syringe filled with 5 mL of the purple medicine, and reached out to hold onto amelia. you sat down in her spot, holding the girl down by her arms as she started to yell and flail her limbs. after she realized her arms were being held, she began to kick her feet, trying to roll out of your arms. 

your grip didn’t loosen, leaning forward to grab the syringe once again. you held the syringe near her mouth, and amelia immediately started to scream louder, yells turning into sobs. again, very faintly, you worried about the noise and your neighbours, but you pushed forward. 

you placed the syringe against the inside of her cheek, releasing some of the medicine. amelia stopped crying for a slight second to swallow before going back to her loud cries. the migraine from earlier returned as you repeated your actions twice more before tossing the empty syringe to the table and pulling the girl up in your lap.

amelia gagged loudly, and you couldn’t stop the loud no, no, no! no throwing up from escaping your lips. you grabbed her sippy cup before helping her wash down the medicine. god, children were so dramatic.

amelia, whose hands were now free, pushed the sippy cup away after a few sips. her lips were downturned into a big pout, and her eyes were glassy. her breath shuddered, still recovering from her outburst from seconds ago. you cooed gently, pushing her hair away from her forehead and eyes. 

“see, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” you imagined that if she knew how, amelia would respond to you with a death glare. 

you pulled the girl closer to you, hand on her hair, smoothing it down as she placed her wet cheek against your sternum. you whispered quiet compliments to your baby as she started to calm down, hand coming back up to grab your hair and tangle her fingers into it.

it was quiet— no sounds aside from your whispers of i love you’s and amelia’s heavy breathing (her nose had stuffed up not too long ago). it had stayed quiet for maybe twenty seconds, until the silence was broken by a rather aggressive knock on your door.

amelia startled, and your heart dropped.  fuck.

mick wasn’t sure when he finally dozed off. the little girl from the other side of his wall had finally quieted down, and he could faintly hear another woman’s voice coaxing her to calm down. 

when he came to again, it had of course been due to another meltdown from the girl. he’d startled awake, pillow falling from his face and onto the floor beside him. his heart rate was erratic, and it took him a few seconds to get a bearing of his surroundings. when the next cry resonated through his room, he couldn’t help the loud groan from escaping past his lips.

mick sat up in his bed, suddenly feeling a strong wave of rage crash over him. it was late, and he was tired. it was past 3 am now, and mick schumacher had had enough.

the last few days had been stressful, to say the least. mick was going to be an official driver on the grid next season, for mercedes, and as excited as he was, he was also nervous— extremely nervous. yes, it was off season, but everyone knew that off season meant preparing for the next season. there really weren’t any “days off” in formula one, not really— if it wasn’t driving, it was sim work, and if it wasn’t the sim, it was working out to keep those muscles in shape.

frankly, mick had mentally exhausted himself by worrying for his next season in formula one, and with the lack of sleep, the man was nearing insanity.

he could feel the frustration, the exhaustion, and all his anxieties start to build up; start to consume him. he let them consume him. 

as if on autopilot, mick got out of his bed, walking out of his bedroom and directly towards his front door. another loud cry came from across the wall, this one louder from all the rest. 

if mick had been in his right mind, he wouldn’t have opened the door and rapped his knuckles against his neighbour’s door rather aggressively. but alas, mick had finally exploded, and who better to release his frustrations on than his next-door neighbours who couldn’t shut the fuck up at 3 am on a wednesday night. 

the second he registered his hand on the painted black door, he paled. fuck. mick felt like he was slapped in the face— what the fuck was he thinking? what the fuck could he possibly do? yell at whoever opened the door? tell them to shut their baby up? fuck. fuck.

mick held his breath, pulling his hand back. should i run for it? his eyes flitted from the door in front of him to his own. a beat passed, the door didn’t open, but he could still hear whining and muffled murmurs. it was louder now that he was out in the hallway— his walls had been thin, but perhaps the ones that lined the sides of the hallway were thinner. maybe they didn’t hear me.

before he could decide between standing his (now, remorseful) ground, or turn tail and hurry back home and sleep with his shitty “noise-cancelling” headphones on, the door opened. his head jerked up at the sound, eyes raking over your figure as he worked up the nerve to look you in the eyes.

you were a sight to behold, dressed in a plain black sports bra and loose, plaid pajama pants that coincidentally mirrored the colours of mercedes. the quick ponytail you had thrown your hair into some hours prior was now a ghost of what it should have been— most of your hair slipping out and splaying over your shoulders. the tangled ends could only have been caused by the young girl held in your arms. she was covered up more than you were, but from where the blanket fell off her shoulder and exposed her arm, mick could tell she was just as bare, if not more. (skin-to-skin, he’d realize some hours later as he laid on the couch and stared at the ceiling, this time wide awake on his own accord.)

your eyes, mick quickly learned, told stories clearer than even the most renowned storytellers. they were droopy and bloodshot with the lack of sleep. mick could read the exhaustion through them from miles away. aside from that, they were also bleary— as if you were seconds away from bursting into tears yourself. the girl in your arms sniffled, dragging his attention away once more as he scanned his eyes over her rosy red cheeks and irritated nose. oh.

a rogue wave of guilt crashed over mick, almost drowning him in the process. in his blind rage, mick hadn’t even considered what could have possibly led the girl in your arms to cry. it seems that the lack of sleep had killed his brain cells— rid him of all common sense and critical thinking. she was sick. 

the air was rather quiet around you three— aside from the little girl’s sniffling and heavy breaths, silence filled the air. mick mulled over what he should say. 

the girl in your arms shivered and you shifted her closer. another second of silence passed and you decided to take the reins of the conversation. “hi, are you here about the noise?”

mick could do nothing but nod, still feeling regretful for having knocked in the first place. his lips turned upwards into a sheepish smile, hand ruffling his already messy hair.

“listen, i’m really sorry. my daughter hasn’t been feeling the best for the past few nights, and i went around to let the rest of the hall know…” you trailed off, cocking your eyebrow as you asked him a question. “i don’t think i saw you around?”

mick stuttered. “uh, yup. yeah. sorry, i was out of town for the past few weeks and only just got back,” he gestured to the door to the right of your own. “ i live next door.”

you winced. “ah, that means you’re on the opposite side of my bedroom. i’m sorry, really. amelia rarely gets sick but when she does, she’s quite the force to be reckoned with…the noise should go down now, hopefully. her medicine wore off, and she’s just gotten a new dose. let’s both hope she sleeps like a baby, yeah?”

the light chuckle that escaped your lips made mick’s heart warm. the sheepish smile turned into a shy one. “yeah, of course. i’ll let you guys go to bed, then,” he gestured his head to amelia, who had somewhat fallen asleep against your shoulder, a line of drool dripping from her open mouth. “sorry for bothering you guys this late at night.”

you lightly shook your head. “i should be saying that to you. i’ll try my very hardest to make sure you’re able to catch up on sleep now!”

mick smiled and wished you a good night, turning back towards his door. you slowly let the door shut, the whirring and clicking noise signifying that it had automatically locked.

mick yawned as he reached his door. his hand fumbled to find the doorknob, eyes bleary with sleep. he pushed the doorknob down. it didn’t move. huh?

he tried again, and again, and one more time. each time the doorknob didn’t budge. mick became frantic, and for the second time in the past five minutes, he found himself thinking— fuck.

mick had boasted about the new upgrades for his apartment building for months to anyone who listened. how could he have possibly forgotten that his front door automatically locked? that he could only get in if he had his keys or if someone was inside? (“well, what if you get locked out? what then?” “don’t be stupid, gina. i’m not an idiot, i’d never do such a thing.”)

who’s the idiot now? mick groaned, hands pulling at his hair as he crouched down. he felt like crying. he was so fucking tired. now that it was finally quiet, now that amelia had finally stopped crying, mick was locked out of his house with no way back in. what a fucking night. 

mick stared at the tiled floor under him, gnawing on his lip as he thought of his options. it was 4 in the morning, not a single person would be awake and working at the front desk. he couldn’t call anybody— his phone was inside, plugged into the wall to charge after two days of use. even if he had it on him, the only people who had copies of the key were his mom, his sister, and hank, the man who worked the front desk— no one that would be awake, nor close enough to come up and unlock his door for him. 

his eyes flickered back to your front door, shaking his head before the thought could even fully form. he was not going to bother you again, especially not now. mick leaned his head back against his locked door, accepting his fate and slouching onto the tile. the metal of the door was cool against his bare skin causing a shiver to run down his spine. 

time was going by extremely slow, or at least it felt like it was for mick. his knees were now up to his chest, trying to find some reprieve from the cold air that breezed through the hallway’s air conditioning. he wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting like that, or when his eyes had finally shut until he was roused by the sound of your door opening. he raised his head, making eye contact with you for the second time that night. you looked mostly the same as before— tired eyes and unruly hair— the only difference now was that you had traded your sports bra in for a white shirt and a cardigan.

you cocked your head lightly. “oh? what are you doing out here?”

your voice was quiet, soft. mick felt his cheeks heat up, the embarrassment returning. 

his smile was sheepish. “i forgot my keys.”

your expression shifted, a round ‘oh’ shape forming on your lips as you nodded. before you could respond however,  your eyes widened and you immediately stepped back into your apartment, leaving mick all alone in the hallway. again. mick blinked, unable to comprehend what just happened.

you returned back outside with a soundtrack of quiet jingling. you brandished the keys in your hand to the boy sitting in front of his door. “almost just made the same mistake.”

mick nodded, an airy laugh escaping his lips. “i don’t suppose amelia knows how to open doors yet?”

you shook your head, “with those new child-safe knob covers? god, i hope not.”

the air became quiet, neither of you speaking many words. mick found himself wishing the silence would swallow him whole. he caved.

“so what—”

“would yo—”

mick flinched, instantly backtracking. “sorry, you go first.”

“no, no. it’s okay, you can go first.”

“no, really. it’s okay, it wasn’t very important, anyway.” mick pushed himself off of the ground, now coming up to stand against his door instead. “please, say whatever you wanted to.”

you pursed your lips, staring at his figure before sighing. “alright,” you nodded, “i was just going to offer if you’d like to crash on my sofa? it’s awfully cold out here, and you’re…”

mick glanced down at his bare chest at your gesture, cheeks flaming hot enough to drown out the cold breeze of the air conditioner. he crossed his arms, trying to cover up his chest, though you had already seen everything he had on show. 

he shook his head, adamant on not inconveniencing you further. “no, that’s alright. i’m here because of my forgetfulness, i can deal with it.”

you couldn’t help but copy his movement. “your forgetfulness came from the fact that amelia, and by extension, myself, kept you up most of the night because of how loud we were. if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

mick went to argue but you cut him off. “really, it all comes back to me, so let me help you.”

the german boy was silent, mulling over his options in his head. 

“it’s a pull-out.” 

his eyes met yours again. “you’re sure?”

“yes, of course.” you nodded excessively. “i was just about to go down to the laundry room–” mick’s brows furrowed, and it was your turn to smile sheepishly now. “— i forgot to grab the last load of laundry earlier because of how cranky ‘melia was being. if you don’t mind waiting for another 5 minutes, i can quickly go grab the load and let you settle in for the night?”

mick nodded, hand coming up to scratch at the base of his neck. “no, of course. take your time. i’ll be here…s’not like i’d be able to go anywhere, anyway.”

you smiled at his words, eyes brighter than they had been the first time you two spoke. “great!”

you pulled the cardigan closer to your chest, walking down the hallway as fast as you could without bursting into a full sprint. had you really just done that? had you really just invited a stranger you had briefly acquainted with not mere minutes ago to spend the night in your apartment? yes. 

you pushed the down button on the elevator. and then again, willing it to get to your floor faster. fuck, your mind was going crazy with the what ifs. 

what if he was a creep? you haven’t seen him around since before tonight. ‘out of town’ he says. for what? what if he was a serial killer? that would make sense. he’d fled the town to not look suspicious, and now he’s back for his next victims. yes, that was it. (in the future, mick would listen to your retellings of this story with a look of disbelief. “you thought i was going to kill you!?” “of course, i did! i didn’t know you!” “you offered that i stay the night!” “well, i don’t always make good decisions now, do i?”)

the elevator ride was rather short, and uneventful— no anne from the fourth floor to pull you from your thoughts with a hacking cough. you chewed on your lips as you mulled over the man you had left upstairs. 

the laundry room was quiet and dark. of course, it was expected for four in the morning— not everyone was as disorganized as you were. you rushed your way around the familiar room, grabbing the basket you had left behind and unloading your dryer. you had to work quickly to get back before amelia realized the warmth next to her was simply your heated blanket and not you. you also had to get back to him.

by the final fitted sheet pulled from the dryer, you had made up your mind. there was just no way that your next-door neighbour. he seemed nice— too nice, a voice rang in your head. you shook your head, ridding yourself of the negative thoughts. everything will be just fine. 

he was right where you left him— albeit, now returned to his slumped over position against his door. your footsteps were quiet, yet still managed to rouse him back to reality. 

you sent him a sheepish smile. “i didn’t take too long, did i?”

“not at all.” he shook his head. “you’re fine.”

a hum escaped your mouth followed by the nod of your head. you reached into your cardigan’s pocket to pull out the keys, unlocking the door quietly and pushing it in with your hip. you held the door open and gestured for him to come in.

his hesitance was obvious and in your head, you cheered. definitely not a serial killer. 

“an open door usually means you can enter, you know?” you gave him a soft smile. he returned it, though it looked slightly more like a grimace.

“are…” he started, arms crossing over once again, feeling bare under your gaze. “are you sure? really, it’s no problem for me to stay the night out here. hank will probably be in the office in another hour or two. ‘s not a problem, i’ll just wait for him to get here and i’ll get into my apartment. plus, amelia’s only just fallen asleep, and i’d hate to m—”

“oh, will you just get in here already?” you couldn’t help but reach out, lightly grabbing his arm before tugging him in. you guided the door shut with your foot, making sure it wasn’t too loud before turning around to look at the man in front of you.

his eyes were wide, flickering from your face to your hand, which was still wrapped around his arm. you followed his gaze, your own eyes widening as you quickly dropped your hand. your hand felt like it was on fire— his arm was cold, icy from the air conditioning, and a stark contrast from your warm ones. it felt like you’d given yourself an ice burn.

you cleared your throat, yet stayed silent, not knowing what to say.

the man across from you was in a similar boat, cheeks dusting a light pink as he focused on the heat emanating from where your hand once was.

“i’ll show you to the couch, if you’d like?” your voice tilted up at the end of the sentence. “i have a feeling our layout is the same, so the bathroom should be in the same spot, if you need it.”

he followed behind you with a quiet murmur agreeing about how similar your floor plans were. 

your eyes widened as you entered the living room,.empty syringes and dirty tiny baby dishes were strewn across the coffee table. you placed your laundry basket to the side, hastily picking up your earlier mess with an apology.

the shake of your neighbour’s head went unnoticed by you as you rushed into the kitchen and back out. it wasn’t until you had presented him with the pull out that he spoke again.

“you know,” his voice was rather quiet, conscious of the baby sleeping just a little ways away. “you really should not let strangers into your home.”

for a second, you nearly felt your heart stop— this was it. he really is a serial killer— until you caught his expression, once again riddled with guilt as if he was overstepping. as if you hadn’t invited him in.

“you’re not really a stranger though, are you?” at the cock of his head, you continued. “you’re my neighbour who i’ve inconvenienced all night.”

“you don’t even know my name.”

you nodded. “alright, i’ll bite. you bring up a good point. so what is it then? your name?”

“...mick.” he had a slight smile playing on his lips.

“well, mick.” you gave him a small smile, initiating a handshake. “my name’s y/n. now, we’re neither strangers, nor neighbours with no names.”

mick couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over his lips, hand warm in your hold. “i suppose you’re right, then.”

you quickly left to grab the man— mick— a few pillows and a comforter from your closet. “i’m the door at the end of the hallway. if you need anything, you can knock on that door and let me know.”

mick nodded. “of course. thank you again, really.”

“not a problem.” you smiled, already making your way out of the living room.“i’ll see you in the morning, then.” 

as you walked out the room, you couldn’t help but turn once more, eyeing the blond-haired man who somehow didn't look so out of place as he messed with the teddy bear that you’d forgotten to pick up from the couch. you smiled.

“goodnight, mick.”

“sweet dreams, y/n.”

[swiftholic-13]

The Season's Scandal Chapter 4

pairing → Eloise Bridgerton x Female Reader

summary → Y/N is having a heart to heart with Eloise. Her biggest fear might also become her reality.

warnings → none

words → 2.2k

masterpost chapter 3 chapter 5

The following day I woke up early and ordered a servant to get the carriage ready. I was trying to be as fast as possible, so my brother would not see me and could forbid me to leave the house. I immediately went to the Bridgerton House to go visit Eloise.

“What bothers you?” Eloise asked me in a caring tone. Soon after I have arrived she showed me their huge garden. Spending time with the Bridgertons showed me how caring and supportive a family can be. I really wished one day I'd have a family just like them. It was hot and sunny, so it was only natural that we would stay there for the next few hours. Spending time with Eloise was the only thing keeping me sane. The hours went by fast and soon her family left us alone and went back inside. I realized that I could listen to Eloise for hours without ever growing weary. There was nothing she could say that would make me stop hanging on every word from her lips. Sooner than later the sun began to set and we settled down on the grass beneath us, looking at the stars. While I was looking at the sky she was laying on her side facing me. The grass touching my bare arms felt unusual but also liberating. “I cannot stop thinking about returning home, my brother will kill me” I looked over to her and her eyes were reflecting the light of the moon. I could not stop myself from staring. She gently took my hand in hers and interlaced our fingers. This was different feeling now that we were not wearing gloves, more intimate than anything we have ever had. “Then do not” I smiled to myself “I cannot hide here forever, El” She shifted closer to me and placed her other hand on top of mine “He has no right to treat you like that and besides I have 7 siblings, do you really think one more would trouble my mama?” We both chuckled and I managed to relax a bit. I looked down at our intertwined hands. With Eloise I felt safe, I knew I could trust her with everything. “My brother was always my parents´ favorite. No endeavor of mine could ever please them. For a while, this granted me some freedom, but not for long. He was always the perfect child, the perfect Duke. Though he may not relish his position as Duke, he never had to prove himself worthy of their love. I have never been granted such affections by them. They are not incapable of love, just incapable of loving me and still I would not dare to bring shame on this family. My mama sent me away with him, hoping to never see me again”. My voice broke and I could feel her eyes fixated on me as I talked, a compassionate gaze that made me feel warm inside. I blinked a few times trying to prevent the tears from rolling down my face. “I am scared” I whispered barely audible and turned my face towards Eloise locking eyes. She noticed my glassy eyes and a sad frown settled on her face. “That they take the one thing that I truly care about away from me”. Eloise inched closer to me and brushed a strand of loose hair behind my ear. “You are the strongest person I know. I cannot imagine what the life you have endured must be like. You are truly remarkable. Please do not let anyone dictate your actions.” her eyes did not leave mine for a second. Her soft and caring tone made me want to kiss her right away. I wanted to pull her close and taste her lips, even if it would be the last thing I would do, I would die a happy woman. Her tone changed and became a bit more playful. “Besides, would you truly leave me to be a spinster all alone? You cannot allow me to be the sole social disgrace here” I smiled at her and chuckled. Her eyes were still fixated on mine, searching for something. “I like you more like that” she whispered. Trying to hide my blush from her I turned my head again, looking back at the beautiful night sky. My view was good but could never compare to her gorgeous smile.

“You really think you want to be spinsters with me forever, we have not known each other for long” I asked, waiting eagerly for her answer. I was scared to reveal my feelings for her. Society does not let people like me have these feelings, it is scandalous. I had to be careful who to put my trust in. I did not think that Eloise would tell anyone. But the fear of losing her, the only person I cared about, was to big to let my desire ruin it. She meant the world to me. “I feel like I have known you long enough” she answered and instantly made me smile again. I could feel her soft hand caressing mine. The way her thumb moved over the back of my hand made me shiver. She was always so gentle with me. I closed my eyes and enjoyed her touch in peace. It was something rarely granted to me. I knew It was momentary.

Our peaceful silence was soon interrupted by footsteps approaching. Eloise snatched her hand away and we both sat up as quick as possible. I straightened out my hair a bit and Eloise fixed her skirt, like we were just doing other things. The footsteps became louder and a figure passed the bush we were sitting behind. Benedict. “Eloise?” he asked surprised, his eyes wandering from her face to mine and back to hers. “I did not know you were still here” He said in a thoughtful manner looking at me. “I was just escorting Y/N outside, to her carriage” Eloise said and motioned me to follow along. She stood up and held her hand out for me to take. Our eyes never left each other as she helped me up. After a few times looking at Eloise and back at me Benedict understood the situation and smiled to himself. Eloise caught his eye “what?” she asked. “nothing, sister” he smirked and took his turn to leave. After he left we retuned to a rather uncomfortable silence. "You are right, I shall leave” I said looking down at my hands. “It is pretty late indeed” she agreed with me and lead me through the garden, inside the house and out through the hallway towards the gate. We walked outside in an uncomfortable silence. My carriage was already ready and the closer I got to it the worse I felt. I stopped in my movements short before having to enter the carriage. I turned and took her hands in mine once again. “See you tomorrow?” she asked, knowing very well that the chance of it happening was pretty low. My brother would not let me leave the house again, unless for another ball. I took a deep breath and nodded with a sad smile on my face. “tomorrow” I whispered back. She slowly leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss on my cheek. I shivered at the contact of her lips on my skin. Luckily no one saw us, except for the carriage driver, which already got extra money from me. She slowly pulled back and let go of my hands, allowing me to enter the carriage. I wish I could just pull her in the carriage along with me and show her how much she means to me. I wish I would not have to leave her now and go back to my house where my angry brother was awaiting me. I took a last look at her as I settled down and she closed the door. The horses started walking and with every step they took the distance between Eloise and me grew. I touched my cheek where her lips have just been a few seconds ago. I smiled to myself. Every second I have spent with Eloise was worth all of what's to come.

————————

Soon after my carriage arrived at our house. A servant helped me out of carriage and walked me to the gate that decorated the entrance of the huge house. When the doors opened I was greeted with the sight of my angry brother. I simply ignored him and handed one of our servants my cape. “You better have a good explanation” he grunted. “No” I simply said and walked past him. “Y/N” a too familiar female voice said. I turned around and looked straight in the face of evil. My mother. I looked at my brother in shock. I expected many things from him but not this. He simply looked away. “Your brother has told me about your behavior” the look of bare disappointment plastered over her face. “I am going to bed” I said simply but she grabbed my arm, pure anger on her face “Where were you?” “promenading through the park” I scoffed. “At this late hour? It is scandalous for a lady to be alone this late, but if I should find out that have been seeing some gentleman I will kill you myself” she scoffed and grabbed my arm tighter. I just rolled my eyes and ripped my arm away from her. “Do not worry mother” I walked up the stairs as fast as possible. “You will not leave this house, you will not go any ball unless it is by my side and if you do not secure an engagement within this season I shall pick a husband for you myself. I will not tolerate this behavior of yours any longer”. I quickly took my left as I felt tears starting to leak from my eyes. I was afraid of this happening. Did my brother really had to bring our mother here? My life was about to get much worse. Now my mother forced me into marriage. I had no chance of escaping her. How would I even get the chance of seeing Eloise now.

My first instinct was to write a letter to her, explaining everything that was happening. I tried not to get to deep into it, a letter could get lost and the last thing I wanted was a scandal being caused by a single letter that I wrote to the girl of my dreams. The following morning, I rushed downstairs and handed the letter to a servant. Before they could walk of, my mother snatched the letter from his hands. “writing letters? To whom?” when I stepped forward, trying to get it back she gave me a knowing look and opened the letter. I grew impatient and felt my anger rising, I had to find another way to contact her. “Dearest Eloise…, who is Eloise?” she asked. “a friend” I replied and tried to get the letter back. Before I could get a hold of it she ripped it apart and the pieces fell to the ground. I looked at her in pure shock. “You are here to secure a marriage, not find friends” she declared and left me alone. I just wished to be a man, I could do whatever I wanted without anybody complaining or telling me what to do. I could just marry Eloise and make a good Life for us. Sadly this was just a dream and would never happen. Before leaving the room, my mother turned back around “you have a few visitors soon, get ready”. My brother was standing at the top of the stairs, watching us, as I tried to calm myself down. He didn´t say a thing as I rushed past him, upstairs, back to my room.

Dancing with possible suitors was bad, but this was much worse. I sat silently next to my mother, while she told the various men about my qualities as housewife and mother. The thought alone of having to give birth to a child made me sick. They smiled at me in a disgusting way that made me want to run away. The whole day I could not stop thinking about Eloise and how much I missed her. Her laugh, the way her eyes were glowing, her scent, her perfect voice, her gorgeous chestnut hair and just her presence. This was torture.

Over the course of the next week my mother did not allow me to attend the next ball and my various attempts of sneaking out failed. She did not let me out of her sight for one second and there was no way of letting Eloise know of everything that was going on. I was slowly losing my sanity. That was until Victor decided to show up, missing me at the latest ball. I was more than grateful to see him and almost jumped into his arms begging him to kidnap me. My countless attempts of getting rid of my mother during his stay failed and even his suggestion of a walk in the park got declined. He could sense the seriousness of this situation even though we were not granted a moment of peace. Before he took his leave he made it very clear that he would like to see me at tonight’s ball. Luckily that was enough to convince my mother to let me go. I had no idea how I could escape her at the ball but only the thought of seeing Eloise again after these long days made me get excited and forget about my fatal situation.

As always I hope you enjoyed this chapter and don't worry it's getting spicier very very soon.

[mjbarrosart]

My Dragon Prince Boards season 7, episode 705, part 1

It's time to talk about my boards for episode 705 of the last season of The Dragon Prince. I did a lot of stuff in this episode, so instead of going in order, I'll divide my work differently for this one, we will talk by group of sequences and not in order of appearance.

Let's start with the sunfire elf side of the plot. As a lot of you know, most of my work in this show was related to the Sunfire elves, and to be honest Janai and Amaya are two of my favorite characters of the show, so every chance to work with them is always a bless.

I did all the scenes of Karim talking with Amaya in this episode. It is hard to explain how I feel about Karim, he is such an idiot, but I am also kinda fond of him because I spent so many hours working on him thinking about his mannerism and motivations. I am fond of him, but I also hate him, hahahaha.

There is not a lot to say about this sequences, they are pretty straight forward. While I can understand why Karim hates humans so much, that doesn't mean he is right about it, and this hate is starting to feel like pettiness, and well fits him, he is a really petty man.

Let! Green! Say! Ass! hahahaha. Its always funny to board this kind of little jokes. I love Green and Amaya dynamics, they are such good friends, and I love how Green is always making sure that Amaya's bluntness is not coming out as "rude". But sometimes I feel he should just translate directly what Amaya is saying, because I don't think Karim deserves special considerations, haha.

That little speech Karim does about how he and Amaya are not the same was interesting to board for me. I wanted him to feel aggressive and menacing, even if his hands were tied. Like he was trying to intimidate Amaya, but she will not bend, she can see thru his BS. I wanted him to trespass into Amaya's personal space, portrait him as the bully he is. He says that his faith comes from knowledge, while the truth is that he leads using fear. Such a pathetic little man.

Another instance where is wish the rigs where able to translate between the expressions from the boards. I wanted him to spit his words trough his teeth when he says "humans are vermin, a plague", like his mouth is full of poison and hate.

But the Amaya, who is mostly motivated by making sure that Janai doesn't regrets the decision of killing her brother, does the right thing and reminds him of the fact that Miyana is pregnant, that there is a future worth to live for. Karim shows some doubts, so Amaya leaves and Miyana enters the stage.

I feel kinda bad for Miyana. I mean she deserves the punishment she got, at the end of the day she betrayed her people. But I feel bad for her, because I think that she honestly loves Karim. Imagine loving such a foolish man. And Karim can not learn a lesson, he keeps being an idiot. He is offered a second chance to be with his family, but the only thing he can see in Miyana is that she is carrying "his heir", and Miyana is right of being offended by that. But she wants to believe that he will made the right choice. And maybe for a minute Karim ponders it. I wanted him to loot vulnerable and maybe open in the final shot, so I made him kneel close to Miyana, laying his head on her belly, close to his child. We know how this will end for him, but for a moment there is maybe hope that he will change... no?

My next scene in this episode is one I am really fond of. Is the one when Terry says that the only person who can stop Claudia is her mom, and Soren is really against that idea.

First, is always fun to have a moment with Terry. I have really small ones during my work in the show, so this one was a blast. Second, I got to have another emotional Soren moment, and that is always nice, because Sores in my boy.

The back and forth of this conversation is pretty straight forward too. What was important for me was what will be the moment that will make Soren change his mind, and support the idea. So I decided to use Corvus for this.

Soren is struggling with the idea of bringing her mother back, even if that means they will have a real shot making Claudia stop. Corvus see his pain, and touch his shoulder. We talked before on how touching is a love language between this two, they don't need tons of words. Corvus is saying "I know that it's hard, but I am here with you". On my boards I had him giving Soren a little nod, they removed that for the final shot, and I think is ok. The nod is not necessary, Soren understand what Corvus means. With his support Soren can do it.

So he gathers strength and gives the drawing to Ezran. I like that in the animation stage they kept Corvus hand all the time on his shoulder. For Soren the idea of facing his mom is one full of pain and conflicted feelings, but he doesn't need to face it alone, he has Corvus at his side (as a partner, friend, soulmate, brother, whatever you see them being).

I love them so much...

The second part of this post is about the last sequence I did for this episode, it is a small one, but one that you could say... brings a "surprise"!

I will posted right away, so stay tuned!

[sgiandubh]

Did you write the post about C's FMT Gin ? I'm not sure if I missed it or not but don't worry I know you are busy. Also in an earlier post you thanked some sources calling them unexpected friends. Are they anti who became nice with our side ?

Dear FMN Gin Anon,

I haven't written that post yet. I haven't lit the first Advent candle with you, as planned. I haven't written the three #jottings I owed to myself and to all of you, about Season 7B. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, I haven't even watched the last two episodes -however, I have the best (or perhaps the worst) excuse for all of the above: my country was, still is somewhat, on fire. Our lives, as we knew them, were suddenly poised to capsize. Our plans - bound to flounder piteously. Our freedoms were in clear and present danger, so much so that I wondered if we could make it to the Paris Landcon, next April: we will, stop fretting. So much so that we were actively discussing emigration and wondering where we could go: France seemed to be the most logical option, but France itself is facing turmoil and unrest on its own. In the meantime, rumors were sweeping all across Bucharest, that the New People with their New Order had lists of enemies to throw in prison or worse: among those lists were all the diplomats having served or serving what they believed to be a rotten regime.

You think this is science fiction? Welcome to Eastern Europe, darling: it happened before and your naivete should be forgiven immediately. You'd have to live it, to understand it: something I wouldn't wish for my worst enemy, so to speak. I am still in awe of our collective resilience and I am still wondering how the hell I managed to cope with an absurd, one month-long nightmare. Probably also thanks to all of the wonderful people of this community, who stepped in here or in DMs, asking for news, following their morning newspapers for same news, worrying and offering their prayers and warm thoughts of encouragement and hope. I could never properly thank all of them and I do hope they know or feel how grateful and humbled we are.

As for my sources (ROFLMAO) being repenting Antis, the answer is a firm 'no'. I do not believe in seeing the light, anymore - not at this point in time. Ask yourself how did we manage to have info that was confirmed afterwards and you'll have your decent answer. If you expected more, I am sorry, darling: a good magician never reveals their tricks. And it takes time to build trust - this is something I will never expose or jeopardize.

Finally, something you should also know: much of what is on this page has been further researched by me, after being tipped. My responsibility and my opinion only.

[itsabouttimex2]

Stuffie Reactions Two:

Tang, Macaque, Red Son

(Part One: Sun Wukong, MK, Azure Lion)

(Ok, all yandere stuff aside? This man has plushies. No way he doesn’t have a finished Journey to The West set. I refuse to believe otherwise.)

As with most of your quirks or interests, Mr. Tang maintains a consistently supportive attitude. He’s not always the best role-model, what with being both somewhat lazy and a little bit of a mooch… but he’s got a good heart.

Even with a plague of obsession to cloud his mind and heart, Tang is still rather rational. He understands the sentimental value your plush has to you, and also knows very well that he’d massively be on your bad side for interfering with it. So there’s no threats of destruction, no forced removal-

Unless you’ve done something that seriously “warrants” one of his very rare punishments. Things like: putting yourself in serious danger, underage drinking, any type of drug use, starting fights, etc.

(He shares most of these rules with Pigsy, though the demon is quite a bit more strict.)

He’s more of a “lock it away in a cupboard for a few days” guy than anything, and gives it back after he’s worn you down into writing a full-length essay about what you did wrong how you’ll do better next time.

Could be worse, frankly.

Alright, let’s get this out of the way- Macaque is a pretty awful person. He’s often cruel for the sake of being cruel. He enjoys hurting people and brags about doing it. We also see that he’s not exactly sentimental about the past- not like Wukong is, not how MK misses the simplicity of his early adventures. I can’t imagine he’d care much about one little toy, especially if it’s particularly worn out or well-loved.

Our Six-Eared Simian is pretty high on the list of character who would outright destroy your plush. (Alongside Demon Bull King, Red Son, Huntsman, Spider Queen, and Lady Bone Demon.)

But usually; aside from mild teasing, he pays it no mind. He’s on the move with you frequently, and at least ensures that the little thing never gets left behind. Hell, when he’s (very, very rarely) feeling soft? Macaque might come around while you’re asleep and tuck the plush into your arms.

So, what could prompt him to destroy your toy? Here’s a few- running away, calling him out for his crimes, helping Wukong or MK, trying to fight him, repeated refusal to obey his orders, frequently “hard” swearing at him, substance use, etc.

(Interestingly, he won’t tear it all at once- swearing at him causes him to puncture a small hole in the fabric, running away causes him to tear off a limb… after, why throw away a useful tool of punishment when he can stretch it out for all it’s worth?)

Lots of landmines to avoid, basically.

Out of all characters, Red Son may well be the one who cares the least- he doesn’t see much value in any of your possessions, except those that he himself gifted to you.

Other characters like the Mayor or Azure might understand the plush’s importance, but choose to use it as a tool of punishment. Someone like Syntax (or Mei, but we’ll get there) would modify it to accommodate a camera. The Spider Queen would probably destroy it to sever connections to your past life- and then tsk and half-heartedly try to patch it up with her silk when she sees how distraught you are.

Some like Sandy would spoil you with plushes and stitch up any rips by hand. Iron Fan might use it to belittle you when she sees fit to lay down some “discipline”, hoping to make you feel insecure and childish.

But Red Son? He simply… doesn’t care.

It’s a possession. An item like any other. No dearer to one than a shirt or chair should be. (Unless he/his parents gave it to you. Then, and only then, will Red Son muster some genuine sympathy and understanding for how precious the object is to you.)

I’ve spoken about this several time, but I’ll say it again here- in most cases, Red Son starts off viewing Y/N as a pet. As the seasons progress they move upwards in Red’s personal hierarchy, from worthless peasant to funny pet to dear friend to cherished family.

So not only does Red not really respect your possessions- but he doesn’t really respect you, either. You’re a silly little human, meandering and small.

So, if you do ever act up, or try to escape…

He really doesn’t see in harm in torching the thing to ashes.

Nor will he understand why you’re crying.

But at least you’ve learned your lesson.

[levenlike11]

tsukishima seemed like he hated your guts. you had no idea why he did, but he acted kinder even to kageyama than he did with you. he was trying to ignore your existence all day everyday, also in every practice or during the school. he even refused to take any towels or water bottles from you if you offer him any since you're the manager of the team. you saw yamaguchi ask him why he's acting such a way with you many times but you never saw him reply, he usually just shook his head towards him and closed the topic. this became more and more disturbing as time went on because you had to communicate with him in order to help the team but he quite literally acted like he didn't want to see your face for another second.

"what are you guys talking about?" you asked when you saw hinata jumping up and down with nishinoya, too happy about something that they're talking about.

"we were planning to see this new movie coming out on the cinema tomorrow after the game if we win it as a celebration! you should also come with us, it's also your and kiyoko's effort as much as ours!" hinata said as pulled you and her towards the group.

"i'd love to, you all deserve a break after working so hard!" you smiled and hinata hugged your side tightly after hearing your answer. as for tsukishima, he didn't even feel the need to hide his discomfort. you could see his face drop from where you are very clearly after you said you'd be there. you stopped wanting to care a long while ago, but it still hurt everytime he behaved so horribly with you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

expectedly, karasuno won their match with a great score, they topped off the amazing season they had this year with this victory. you also changed and waited until everyone was no longer sweaty or in their uniforms, and then left with the team and kiyoko to see the movie.

first you saw yamaguchi trying to speak to tsukishima, and then yamaguchi looking at you, and then back at kei. you didn't understand what it was all about but you didn't want to ask since you were sitting so far away from them in the table you decided to eat dinner before the movie.

a few minutes later, you saw hinata analyzing your face as you ate your dinner. "is there something on my face?" you turned to kiyoko and asked.

"not anything i can see." she gave you a weird look. "why?"

"why does that end of the table keep staring at me then?" you mumbled under your breath and tried to ignore them while munching on your remaining meal.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

it was either fate, or hinata and yamaguchi's doing that you somehow became seated next to kei in the movie. they probably just wanted you to start getting along with him but you hoped that they realize you didn't get along with him *because of him, not you! you tried your best for months, and he has only responded with a few rude looks or just once, mostly twice, disrespectful remarks to you.

just as you were about to ask someone to switch their seats with you, the movie's intro started rolling on the screen and the lights turned off. you sat there, unhappy with your positioning until after the break of the cinema. not exactly sure when, but sometime near the end, you got very bored of the movie playing in front of you and fell asleep.

that was fine for a while. that is, until you decided to turn around and put your head on kei's shoulder, not knowing it was him. if you weren't so tired and in need of sleep, you would have woken up by how much your action startled him. he probably knew how much you needed that sleep too, so he didn't move or tell you to wake up and lift your head. you slept peacefully until the end of the movie when the lights turned back on. when you realized whose shoulder your head was on, you quickly lifted your head up and apologized.

"i'm so sorry tsukishima, why didn't you wake me up or move my head? you must've felt uncomfortable." you pouted. why were you still thinking about how he felt when he's been nothing near polite to you for the whole semester?

"it's fine, i didn't mind it. i knew you were really tired so i didn't want to wake you up, i wasn't uncomfortable." he answered quietly, surprising you.

"thank you, i'm sorry again, if i made you uncomfortable. is your arm okay? i think my head is kind of heavy..."

"yeah, my arm's fine. and no, your head's not heavy." you smiled at his answer, which seemed like it made him blush. (you chose not to comment on it though.)

neither of you spoke for a while and you just watched the others talk about how good the ending of the movie was. "your hair smells nice." he broke the silence with his comment.

"thanks! it's the shampoo from -brand name-." you smiled, and you didn't talk to him any more that night afterwards. he only smiled back at you, which was probably the kindest thing he had ever been towards you, and you both went on with your own days. if you paid more attention to what was happening behind you, you would see hinata and yamaguchi nudging the others to look at your interaction after trying so hard to get you guys to talk properly.

although if you had been rewarded with a chance to see the future months ago, you would have fallen asleep on his shoulder way back then.

[changingplumbob]

A Party To Die For Templates: SFS

So I may have got a tad overexcited about the Halloween CAS Challenge created by @la-llama-sims, and I made templates for every prompt. I wanted to share them on the off chance someone wanted to also do the challenge but maybe didn't have time to do much other than screenshots.

Tutorial below on how to make your own cards using the templates if you are unfamiliar with photo software, all you need is the template and a screenshot of your sim! Very little technical skill required to so feel free to jump in for Simblreen (the month of October on simblr). Remember to go to the original creator post to check out the prompts and the hashtag given for creations is #LLPTDF. Hope to see some of your creations next month, keep them for the spooky season 🎃👻🦇

Strap in and follow along as I make Glenn here (he won't do the spellcaster prompt for Simblreen, it's dress up after all, but it makes sense for a demo)

Step one: Grab the zipped folder of templates on SFS HERE. Unzip the folder and put it somewhere easy to find in your documents, I have a tumblr specific folder my templates are normally sorted in.

Step two: Open your photo editing program of choice. I use paint.net which is old but for this demonstration I will use Photopea, the online free alternative to adobe. You will see the screen below

Step three: Click "Open From Computer" right in the middle under the main title. Find the screenshot you have taken that you would like to use and open it. Now the hole in my template is 744x991 but you can make it slightly bigger if you don't want to fuss as much with lining things up exactly. To resize image from the top bar (Image -> Image Size) We're going to use the crop tool when we have our picture.

Step four: Pull on the squares at the edges to change the size. If you need click View in the top bar and you can zoom in to allow finer selecting. When you have the right size click the tick and copy the image. Keyboard shortcuts are Ctrl+A to select all, then Ctrl+C to copy.

Step five: Open the template you want to use (File -> Open, from the top bar). Add a new layer using either the top bar (Layer -> New -> Layer) or the icons on the bottom right.

Step six: With the new layer selected paste the image, Ctrl+V.

Step seven: On the right of the screen you'll be able to see layer order. Drag the layer with your sim underneath the background layer. This is what will let you slot in your picture.

Step eight: Finishing touches! Unless you are super duper lucky your sim won't appear in the exact right place, you'll have to move them around using the move tool. For precision you'll need to zoom in and move your field of vision using the hand tool.

You'll know it's in the right place when you can no longer see any of the negative space behind it. I like to check both corners to make sure I've got it. This is where having a sim image slightly larger will make it easier.

If you like you can finish now. From the top bar File -> Export as -> PNG or JPG. The picture will save to your downloads folder. If you want to add your own text, keep reading, as I've left space at the bottom for your username, the sim name, and a profile pic or other logo. Or go ahead and crop it out, who needs extra hassle when there are cute CAS looks to be made?

Step nine: From the bar on the right select the large T to add some text, it will automatically spawn in a new layer. Scroll through text options and find one you like (the text style I used isn't in photopea so we will find another). Depending on the type of text you will likely need to play around with the size as well.

Step ten: Start typing. When you're done you can highlight what you have written and use that size box to adjust how big the text is. Select the move tool from the right to move your text where you want it. Repeat step nine if you want text on the other side. I've chosen to put my username on one side, and my sim's name on the other.

Step eleven: Logo time. Open a pre shrunk logo (I scaled my pride plumbobs down to 125x125) and copy. Back on the template add a new layer then paste your image (for some reason I had to copy twice before it would do the right thing, I don't have an explanation sorry). Then using the move tool and the hand tool get your image where you want it.

From the top bar File -> Export as -> PNG or JPG. Again it will have saved to your downloads folder.

Voila, we have a Glenn card! Hopefully you have a your sim card. I spent hours doing up all the templates so feel free to fill them with your sims for the challenge. All I ask is that you don't claim templates as your own work or shove them behind a paywall because rude and the whole premise of Simblreen is free treats! Obviously you do NOT need the templates to participate in the challenge, the cards are just how I'll be presenting mine. Like CAS challenges the possibilities are most often only limited by your imagination.

[l00rem]

Hz ep65 rambles

This is going to be a long post because as expected I am just so incredibly normal about this episode. As someone who has wanted a deeper look into liko and amethio’s dynamic since forever i’ve been fed well. When it was clear Amethio wouldn’t be in this arc much I hoped we could at least get an episode with him and liko somehow but i gave up on the possibility, only for the title of 65 to get leaked which made me unable to sleep that day lmao

I know a lot of people are annoyed it’s taken the series so long for them to have a meaningful interaction but tbh i don’t really mind. The pokemon anime seasons last around 150 eps, and with gen 10 looking further away than most next generations hz might be lasting closer to the dp animes length, which makes sense considering it feels more like a one-shot series that won’t carry over into the next gen. It also just makes sense to me that they haven’t had a chat like this until now because why would they? as amethio says, liko was just the girl with the terapagos to him, there was no reason for him to go out of this way to chat with her and she was running from him because he’s the enemy. This episodes made it clear that their dynamic matters with it being the title, so i’m sure they’ll get a lot more moments from here on out.

Anyway, I absolutely adored amethio’s characterisation in this episode. Going into it i’d hoped we’d get to see his softer side and did the writers deliver on that! I love how it’s amethio who makes the initiative easier to talk with liko, there’s no reason for him to do this and what he said only motivates her (his enemy!!) and yet he most likely sees himself in her and so wants to comfort her as there was never anyone there for him… what he said really reminded me of friede’s words at the end of ep45 as well. I wonder if he could potentially become more of a mentor figure to her later on now that he’s been fired, as friede and roy have always felt closer to me in terms of mentor-student bond so it would be nice if liko got that with someone too.

he’s also the one to reach out his hand, which btw is the first time he’s made any physical contact with someone which wasn’t him flying on corviknight. Of course his hands were gloved, i wonder if he’ll take them off at some point? something something gloved symbolic for vulnerability, taking them off shows his trust and comfort…

The timing of putting Amethio next to Grusha also feels very intentional. They’re both cold on the surface but have better intentions deep down. I wonder if the whole Grusha being happier when he was younger will be true for Ame as well?? I can’t help but think about that Charcadet back from ep57 , which seemed so happy and friendly… He even made sort of a smile in this ep?? I don’t think i counts as a proper one, but his eyes are filled with so much love and warmth that it certainly gives the illusion of one. So, of course, order had to be restored by immediately making amethio suffer right after he finally displays some level of happiness

I find it really interesting how Gibeon seems to be bringing up Amethio’s dad in repose to Amethio showing comradeship with the enemy.

I know a lot of people think Amethio was born into explorers, but my personal interpretation is that ame’s dad left after meeting ame’s mom and decided there was more to life then chasing his dad’s wishes. Perhaps she was also a target for one of his missions but he ended up falling in love with her … (i don’t ship ameliko btw, i think the parallel is more love in general than specifically romance). I also don’t think amethio’s dad is alive, amethio seems to cling to gibeon for some reason so my theory has always been that gibeon killed ame’s dad (perhaps he tried to take gibeon down, now we’ve seen what the eternal blessing can do he wouldn’t stand a chance) and then manipulated amethio under the illusion that he’d been abandoned. And now he’s been abandoned again… Gibeon clearly doesn’t give a shit about him, in ep54 he goes all ‘how long has it been since we met like this?’ which sounds warm, like seeing your grandparent in person after so long… but then you realise that gibeon is literally just a long ass corridor away and could call amethio at any time. he chooses not to because he doesn’t care. ‘special regard’ my ass, it’s all manipulation to isolate amethio into thinking he could only belong to explorers. This also makes me wonder if gibeon didn’t actually fall for spinel’s plot as much as he seemed to, maybe he just knows amethio will get desperate in banishment and will try even harder to reclaim his honour (fucking pokezuko lmao) it’s a very evil scheme in that case, gibeon has been shown to hold a lot of intelligence so i hope it does turn out to be the case or else he looks kinda stupid imo

Another detail I loved in this scene was the others reactions, particularly Sango.

She looks genuinely shocked, I think from her pov amethio has always been this pampered prince whose been given everything on a silver platter, she didn’t realise how fragile his place in explorers actually was. I expected this from Onyx, but it shows a lot of nuance for Sango to feel this way too. Also, I’m a Hamber hater so i’m always gonna perceive his actions in a bad light- i don’t think he was showing genuine concern for amethio, it’s more that he knows amethio’s character better than gibeon and so would know that amethio would never betray gibeon. he saw the torture amethio put himself through in training, and said himself he was impressed by his resolve. Hamber’s concern comes from loosing a valuable asset to his master, not because he genuinely cares imo.

This does make me wonder how Ame and Liko will interact from here on out. I think he’ll blame Spinel mostly, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s colder to her next time to make a point to himself that he’s not soft on the enemy. But I hope Liko will notice this, perhaps realise he’s been banished and use this as an opportunity to get to understand him better. She showed him vulnerability this ep, so i hope the tables will turn next time.

I really liked this line too, especially considering liko is a character so centred around empathy. Allow me to speak in my girl who only thinks about umineko voice for a second, but it really reminded me of the core theme ‘without love it can’t be seen’. Liko’s learning that if she doesn’t try to see the perspective of even people who seem to have ill intent, she’ll never understand them. A good lesson for a girl who wants to understand the hearts of others!

Now, as for amethio’s future… Considering his own advice to liko he’s definitely not going to give up like that. He’ll probably continue to train so he can seize terapagos, but in the process will potentially get closer and closer with liko and the rvt. This depends a lot on his situation now he’s been fired- like will he have money? will zir and conia follow him? i get the sense that the writers want to isolate him from them to make it easier to focus on his development (as much as i miss them as a trio) it’d be interesting if they got given to spinel temporality but i’d fear for their safety…

It seems that he’ll be important next arc, i hope now that he’s not in explorers it’ll be much easier to make him show up in a casual setting. I’ve always hoped he’d be relevant in getting Kleavor, mainly bc both Kleavor and Cerueldge have weapon hands so a battle between the two would be cool, especially if he teams up with liko!

Perhaps this is a reach but i’ve been humouring the idea that he might actually form a bond with Carmine.

He is next to her on the poster, which might not actually mean anything… but amethio’s always given me Keiran vibes, i’d love it if she saw keiran in him (especially if he’s going through his emo era) and so wanted to reach out to him as perhaps a way to work out how to approach her brother. It would be really sweet for amethio to get a familial figure who genuinely cares about him, now that he’s in his homeless arc maybe she could take him in for this arc like the sad sopping wet kitten whose been left in a card box in the rain that he is.

So yeah, those are most of my intelligible thoughts that aren’t just me screaming and jumping on the spot. Inevitably this is already my favourite hz episode we’ve gotten so far, and i’m so excited to see where amethio goes from here on out! Please, just let him smile and be happy, he’s suffered enough :,)

[nalyra-dreaming]

Jones confirms that, just like in Rice’s books, Armand is the one who turns Daniel into a vampire. “Will we see that moment of turning? No, but Armand finally made a vampire and clearly made him out of spite,” he says with a laugh. “It looks like it was really not a great moment [between him and Daniel], but that connects those two characters. They will have scenes going forward, obviously.”

This is from the latest Rollins interview. I feel like an idiot now, I was desperately hoping that we would see the turning next season - but while I think Rollins may not reveal everything I don’t think he would outright lie. So we won’t see the turning.

I walked into the finale open to an exclusively present-day DM that might(!) kick-off and I didn’t expect too much given what screeners had warned about. I never thought Daniel would be turned completely off-screen however… I know there’s rumours they might write DM into the past still, but I’m a fan of Daniel and Armand outside of the ship as well and knowing we won’t see Daniel’ turning, probably won’t see anything of his first time with becoming a vampire (because of the time skip) and seeing that Armand might(?) actually have turned someone out of spite makes me just sad.

I also feel a bit off-put by how Rollins is speaking about if, feels a bit like he’s trying to affirm to fans well see more of them together (maybe surprised that so many people are invested?) but also just gives off the vibe that the DM if it all wasn’t fully planned out in the moment of writing. Which sucks when you decide to have one turn the other! This frankly does not inspire confidence and make me feel like my favourite characters been reduced to plot devices (in good writing characters can be both character and plot tool but now this doesn’t feel like it).

F*ck I’m sorry, I realise this is not a fun post to read, I just feel really upset. Thank you for hearing me out!

Okay. So.

I let this simmer a bit (and I still have a lot of catching up to do with the interviews, since, well, vacation 😅, so thanks for the quotes).

BUT.

You know what I was chewing on? Armand and… spite.

When does Armand do something out of spite.

And… I came up only with one distinct event that I, personally, would call spite, namely when he goes and has that affair with that english guy - to spite Marius.

Marius. Not yet introduced as a character, but more than hinted at. The one Daniel has also a relationship with in the books.

And here we’re back to my theory that DM did happen in the past… and that Marius wiped Daniel‘s memories.

Eric let spill recently that there might be something between Raglan and Daniel and… well on one hand… but you know if Raglan, as I also theorized, is actually Marius… then that would make a lot of sense.

DM happened in the past. Marius intervened (like he likes to do). Standing order is to leave Daniel alone (maybe). But… Daniel gets sick. They redo the interview. The “surprise“ after dinner, that never comes to pass (Louis wanting to turn Daniel for Armand?!). Louis leaving Armand with Daniel, (utterly pissed at Armand and therefore retracting his promise to turn Daniel) forcing Armand’s hand… Armand… knowing that if Daniel leaves now he will die soon.

And Armand turns Daniel - out of spite.

But not to spite Louis, or Daniel. Nor are they enemies (that‘s BS and given how Assad has talked about Loumand and what it has been on the show I do call BS here).

No, he does it to spite Marius, who wants Daniel mortal (for whatever reason). He does it IN spite of Marius‘ standing order. THAT woukd make sense to me.

And it would also explain why Armand isn’t there after… Marius might have come by for a… chat.

I know this sounds wild.

But honestly - spite? Anger?!! No. That doesn’t make any sense to me. And, I‘m sorry Assad, but I‘m side-eying your statements there after the Loumand ones. *shrugs*

So.

It sucks that we maybe won’t get the turning.

But I BET - I bet they have a good reason for that. Because it would contradict what they’re trying to establish for now.

It will be a big twist for show-only fans after all when it will be made clear why Armand turned him truly.

So. These are my thoughts, after chewing on it for a bit. Knowing Rolin likes to troll a bit obviously plays into that as well. And Hannah‘s tweet.

We‘ll see how it will hold. :)

[supervisormeero]

Syril Appreciation, Part 2: On Syril Karn & Redemption

It's still Syril Appreciation Day (SAD) over at @andorshitdaily, so I'm going to go ahead and create yet another lengthy text post about one of the saddest, most pathetic men in Star Wars. The reason for this is that my other lengthy text post about one of the saddest, most pathetic men in Star Wars would've been too long if I'd continued it, so now I'm posting two lengthy text posts. When they're combined, they'll create a whole novel. Anyway—

I've heard and been part of a lot of discussion over hiatus about the subject of Syril Karn getting a "redemption arc," and whether or not turning Rebel is his ultimate destiny in Season 2. As I said in my other post, I'm 50-50 on it. Over the years, Star Wars has conditioned many of us to believe that the "less evil" or "conflicted" Imperials have a shot at turning good. Frequently, they do. We've seen those storylines play out over and over again, perhaps most notably when placed in direct parallel to Syril, with Alexsandr Kallus. We aren't set up to believe Dedra might switch sides, because the writing paints her as unrepentantly devoted to the mission and everything it calls for. The writers call out, through Bix, that Dedra enjoys the darker aspects of her work. She revels in the torture, the arrogantly delivered threats, and the bleeding Rebels dry. In that way, we are told — without being told — that Dedra won't turn from her path. She's Imperial, through and through. Her sole mission is to save the Empire from itself, and she'll do so by any means necessary.

In contrast, because Season 1 spends so much time devoting itself to showing Syril's turmoil and pain in his home life, we don't get that with him. We know he's Imperial because, obviously, he's made it his life's mission to rise through the Imperial ranks. We see him desperate and striving for more, determined to get into the ISB, yearning to assist Dedra in her investigation into Axis and Cassian Andor. The writing makes no secret of the fact that Syril Karn is a man with ambitions, and those ambitions are Imperial. It also continually highlights his connection with Dedra, whatever direction that's destined to take; the first official image we got of him in Season 2 is him meeting with her in the ISB conference room. So, while Season 1 does unflinchingly frame Syril as Imperial, it holds back on framing him as devoted to everything the Empire stands for. It doesn't frame him as approving or supportive of Imperial violence or torture, as it does for Dedra.

What does this mean for his future, and his chances of redemption? It depends on which path the writers choose to take with his character, I think. On one hand, because Syril's not been exposed to the "darker" side of the Empire (at least that we know of), he might be in for a rude awakening over the next five years. We see him believing fully in the Empire because the Empire is law, and his central guiding principle seems to be that law and order are always true, that justice is always just, and that if everyone followed the rules, there would be no trouble in the galaxy. We, as viewers, know this is incorrect... but at this point, Syril doesn't seem to. Throughout the next five years in his story, either through gaining an understanding of what Dedra actually does for the Empire or through time spent on Ghorman before the massacre, it's possible he will come to question some of his beliefs. Is it really just to execute a crowd of peaceful protestors? Is the use of Gorst's recordings ever justifiable, from a moral sense? If Syril sat in on one of Dedra's interrogations and saw the agony and terror in that poor Rebel's eyes, would he still hold her up as his beacon of light and hope?

At this point, we don't know. The biggest tally in the "redemption arc" column is, in my opinion, that Syril's main motivation isn't necessarily getting promoted and rising to the top of the Imperial ladder: it's being loved. That's where he differs from Dedra. Where she only wants complete order and (potentially) power, he wants someone to believe in him and tell him he's done a good job — he never got that unconditional affection from Eedy, and he's still searching for it in the only way he knows how: by being good at his job. Will he eventually realize he can't find that within the Imperial structure and turn to join the Rebels? Potentially. It's also possible he keeps searching for it within the Empire to the point where that endless search dooms him, and he never understands that the Empire is indifferent to him until it's too late for him to do anything but die in its service. If his Imperial beliefs are too engrained in him, it's possible he really will think that what Dedra does is for the greater good, and that what we know will happen on Ghorman needed to happen.

If that's the case, though, and he's never meant to be conflicted, why bother sending him to Ghorman? The fact that he's seemingly being set up to spend significant time on the planet leads me to believe we'll at least see him grapple with his Imperial faith and devotion to Dedra — otherwise, he could've stayed on Coruscant. That said, I'm not necessarily a complete believer in him turning around and helping the Rebels, either; I don't know that I can see him following Kallus' route. Perhaps if he has a vaguely similar trajectory to Lieutenant Gorn and the Ghorman people show him kindness only for him to watch in horror as they're all killed in front of him, he could "lose his taste for the Empire." I've also wondered, based on a prediction of @hegodamask's, whether he might play a role in Lonni's execution only to then find that, whoopsie, Lonni had a family, and that sits heavily on Syril's conscience. Or both of those things happen. There's more than enough time in a 12-episode season.

My ultimate prediction is that if Syril lives to see the show's final arc and doesn't die on Ghorman, we might see him step back from all of it and side with neither the Empire nor the Rebellion. Just because he doesn't believe in the Empire doesn't mean he'll support the Rebels. I could see him losing faith in all of it to the point where, in his final episode, he comes face-to-face with Cassian again... and he lets him go. @hegodamask also had the thought that he might get promoted post-Ghorman to a supervisory role within the ISB, thus getting what he'd always wanted, only to find it hollow now after he's seen what the Empire stands for. I guess he could also die a last-minute redemptive death, although I'd really rather he didn't. I think Andor will treat him with more complexity than that.

So, do I think Syril will be 100% redeemed? I think it's more complicated than that. Star Wars has a habit of "redeeming" its villains, and if Syril descends farther and farther into the Empire as Cassian commits to the Rebellion, a no-redemption storyline could make sense. It could also be oddly fresh, considering the sheer number of redeemed Imperials in this franchise. Regardless, I trust Tony Gilroy and his writing team, and I'm looking forward to seeing how Syril's story ends.

I'd prefer it if he didn't die, though. The galaxy needs those pretty blue eyes.

[dvilkings]

my predictions for the bridgerton show and its remaining seasons/bridgerton siblings and their romance stories, the order we will see them all.

all the speculation surrounding who is going to be the next mc in bridgerton s4, and of course i am hoping and wanting it to be benedict. but i do think it actually will be him and not eloise.

yes, eloise’s story comes directly after polin’s, jump started by their engagement. but that is also due to the time jump polin’s story has so that pen and eloise are older and settled into the titles of “spinsters”. in s3 eloise is only in her 2nd season out, and would not be considered a spinster yet for another season or two. and also considering the fact that it would have just been another year (2 in total) since marina and philip got married, so her children would not be that old. in eloise and philip’s story, the children are a big component, and them still being toddlers/babies wouldn’t push the story like it should. (yes they could alter it, but i don’t see that happening).

as for benedict, his story offers the perfect time jump. if he were to meet sophie at the last ball at the end of s3, it would offer the perfect opportunity for a time jump between s3 and s4, perfect for ben to have been searching for his mystery woman during that time (and perfect for philip’s children to grow in time for eloise and his story).

it also brings in the build up we have seen so far for the cowper’s. cressida’s mother’s name is “araminta” and they would not have two characters of the same name, especially one uncommon as araminta (the same name of sophie’s stepmother in the books). and seeing a little more of a glimpse into cressida and her parents, even her father, it makes sense that they could be the ones connected to sophie. not to mention cressida being such a more complicated character than the audience had thought, honestly being a good mixture of rosamund and posy (sophie’s step sisters).

it also wouldn’t quite make sense for eloise to be next to have her romance. she is still young, and we have not seen any build up for her yet (the letters, the mysteriousness that leads to her running away to philip). meanwhile, we have seen constant build up for benedict, especially after his short talk with anthony in s3e1 where he mentions he liked stepping in as viscount to look over the estate while kanthony were in their honeymoon because it gave him purpose and something to do, the exact thing he seeks for in his own story and is delved deeper into then.

people will counter that eloise’s story starts because of polin’s engagement so it’s a direct correlation. and that’s how it was in the books, but i don’t think that’s how it will go in the show. i think her catalyst will be benedict getting married instead. her relationship with ben has shown to be closer and more pronounced than her other siblings, and with her and pen’s relationship still being unsteady and unsure what will happen at the end of s3, it doesn’t quite make sense for it to affect eloise as hugely as it does in the books. i think even polin’s engagement/marriage will spark eloise to start writing letters (i see polin travelling for awhile for their honeymoon, sparking eloise to want to write letters to pen and colin as much as she can, sparking further her writing to philip upon hearing of marina’s death (probably having heard of it before polin does so feeling a sense of responsibility to write to him in their stead)).

having benedict’s story come next will also we a good segway into seeing life outside of society. with eloise, francesca, hyacinth and gregory’s story not set majorily in the eyes of the ton and society, but benedict’s have some of both, being a good start to transitioning the show to that side of this world that has been built.

this way, s4 would still center around benedict and his romance with sophie, most likely after she has run away from her home (so we will probably see the flashbacks to those events throughout the season as it will have been a few years). and it also gives some time to build up eloise’s story more and maybe hearing of marina’s death, etc.

and of course, the remaining seasons will still continue in the order of the books. in s4 (benedict) and s5 (eloise), we will see more of francesca and john, them marrying, being introduced to michael, john’s death, and maybe a little bit of the separation between frannie and michael. which will lead to their story as s6, right after eloise and philip. and hyacinth and gregory will be older (and their actors as well so it won’t be inappropriate for them to have their own adult romance stories told). so for s7 and s8, they will step into their stories with gareth and lucy

you can see i have thought a lot about this and i appreciate anyone who has read this far lmao. but i would love to hear other people’s thoughts as well!!!