#anyways love love love forever and ever and ever and ever to every single person who has even read two words from little talks i owe you

[tuliptiger]

Bro I hate Silco so much. Bro. And don't get it twisted right. He's a good character, he's well written or in THE VERY LEAST incredibly interesting and compelling. To me I guess. I still can't stand him, I hate him and I think he embodies every human flaw a person can have. And every bad decision we make at our lowest points.

And for that I can't stand him in the purest way and I think that's kind of awesome. Get him out of my face though lol fuck that guy. Great presentation of what I feel a lot of people in the world are like or have the potential to be like rn.

For what he was meant to be, having just found out the original plan for him which I really shouldn't consider. Or maybe I should in favor of him, as a little grace for him. I guess Jinx and him were supposed to be like romantic. If that's your thing go for it I guess but I'm not going to talk nicely about it and it disgusts me as a heads up. Fair warning.

I'm forever grateful they didn't pull a Joker/Harley Quinn but because jesus christ I think I actually would've hated Arcane for that. For all you people complaining about Arcane, sure that's your right and it's all personal tastes anyway but it could've been actually, sincerely awful. It would've ruined Jinx as a character and undercut all of her nuance, her autonomy as a real, deeply thought out character. Her struggles, her mental health, her trauma, it would've fucking sucked.

I hate Silco for even the possibility of that and unfortunately i think it explains a little bit about some things. But anyway, back to hating Silco.

1.) He betrayed every single thing he's ever cared about in his life. He betrayed Felicia by trying to and knowingly kill her children. He betrayed the promise he made to not JUST Vander but to Felicia and himself.

Because what? Vander betrayed him first? Because he tried to kill him? Because he probably does feel genuine regret about maybe enacting the event that got Felicia killed? We never get the story but I think it's implied. Either that or Vander really was just deep in grief and rage and put that on Silco. I think they both fucked up for the record but Vander didn't CONTINUE that for the rest of his life.

What did any of that have to do with Vi and Powder/Jinx though? He's the reason everything bad happened, maybe you could blame Viktor since he went back to give Jayce the rune but every bad moment after that is almost exclusively Silco.

2.) He bribed Marcus contributing to the corruption in Piltover and Zaun. He fed drugs to Zaun for the point of nothing in my opinion. Because he couldn't come to terms with his grief, he couldn't make Piltover pay the way he wanted them too? He justified his own terrible actions for some idea of an independent Zaun for what? For who? Piltover may have taken from him but he actively chose to burn whatever he had left by trying to kill Powder and Vi.

3.) He's the reason Vi and her crew lost their loot, and their lives NOT Powder. He's the reason or at least the means for Singed to create more fucked up abominations and shimmer.

4.) He IS A HUGE SOFTIE he's soft as fuck. He loves and he loves deeply but he could never get over himself to do better. And this is possibly the main reason I hate him, he sincerely loved Vander and Jinx and Felicia and Zaun. People get hurt all the time, and it isn't the same as the trauma he faced but I DON'T think a reasonable series of decisions is to betray everything you are and have worked for to fuck over literally everyone around you. He is the scorched earth method, he wanted to hurt everyone and everything for what he felt and experienced. He's so incredibly selfish I cannot stand him.

5. A close contender, maybe even tied because I love Jinx so much. I hate that he is directly related to all of the hurt Vi and Jinx have experienced. I hate, I loath, I detest what he did to Powder and to Jinx. I feel so fed with season 2 episode 7, we DIRECTLY see what happens when Silco doesn't decide every day to hurt the world around him and hurt everyone in it. What happens to Powder without his fucked up influence.

I never thought anyone made Jinx specifically, like there isn't someone to blame because it felt diminishing to Jinx herself. But I'm rethinking it, I would say with certainty Jinx wouldn't have existed without Silco. I don't give him full credit, not in the creation of her and not her herself but the REASON she was reborn into a different person. Powder and Jinx created Jinx, but she created her because she had to, because Silco brought her into a fucked up world where she had to be different to survive.

Silco didn't support her, he enabled her, made her fear the world, fed her insecurities and projected himself into her. And because he does love, he really really did love her I think, that was what she felt she needed as a TWELVE year old girl. She needed a guardian who had her best interest at heart and not just love. Whatever support she had before, he ripped it from her and shredded it, and from that pile of rubble and ash Jinx had to find herself and emerge. But she picked herself up and chiseled herself into who she is in the series not Silco.

She's smart as a whip, she's so incredibly clever. She knew to some extent the reality of what was happening. But reality didn't have any real gravity anymore for her without something to hold her to it. Silco, at any time, could have stopped what he was doing. He could've seen her hurting and said, this isn't it. This isn't worth it. But he didn't, and she didn't need a reason to change because she had someone who fed her love when she had no one. When she thought it was all her fault and where Silco tried to convince her Vander and Vi weren't good people and that they didn't love her, won't love her.

I could go on, I fucking hate Silco. Once again, I think he's the weakest character emotionally and mentally but certainly not writing wise. He's spineless, he can kill sure, but in the main universe he couldn't get over his own feelings of guilt and hurt to do better. Nobody is satisfied with the slow progression of equity, of freedoms and peace. Silco wanted to take it all violently, take it all and take everything around it down with him.

In another universe, he's better. He makes better decisions because a different set of events led to reconciliation between Vander and him. Because Piltover made the first move of peace after Vi had to be sacrificed. Because Marcus saw a dead Zaun child in the arms of her younger sister. Because a lot of things, Silco is a better man and I think he's stronger for it.

The main universe Silco was wrong about everything he did, he made every possible bad decision on purpose over and over and over again.

The fact that I just wrote what feels like an essay on this bastard should at least show how I hate him, in the way I don't like hate hate him. I hate him in the way good art makes you hate it in just the right way. I think he's interesting enough to think about. I don't hate the alt universe Silco, I just hate the main one. He's multifaceted, he's a villain, he just kind of sucks, he moved the story in permanent ways. He forever changed the world by facilitating the events that led to Jinx as a person in Runeterra.

Anyway Yeah I really really hate Silco. Thanks for reading lol If you have some good points or different interpretations of events with Silco I would genuinely love to read them especially if they are different. I'm the first to admit I don't fully understand all the subtleties in Arcane and I love it for that, but I miss things. Changing my view on what actually happened in scenes is one of my favorite things to do right now. I crave the richer and fuller offering of a closely inspected Arcane provides tbh.

[blood-mocha-latte]

end of an old voice sometime in the next seven days how we all feelin

[spock-adoodledoo]

Tsubasa_Syaoin on twitter thank you for my life

https://x.com/Tsubasa_Syaoin/status/1835696809483911572

[itsalwaysdark]

i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is

[sludgeguzzler]

Rereading that one dirkjake fic where dirk is an imortal apostle to apollo and jake is a time traveler (my crack cocaine)

[vifilms]

“no, no you didn’t hurt me,” you reassured and cupped her face between your hands. “just love you.”

….excuse me while i cry my fucking eyes out….are my tears a joke to you….goddamn. this is perfect. stop calling it ass or i will fight you with the infliction of my never ending love. this is anything but. the sincerity in this has me seeing stars. the i love you’s. the confession of love right before completion. i know i always say this but god, i love when you write domestic. it’s so comforting and wraps around me with a hug i hope to never be released from. you always blow me away and the fact you don’t even know how amazing you are makes it even more special. your writing touches my heart in a way that’s so unique and catered to the style in which you write in. i’ll be screaming forever on how special it is.

soft sex w vi < 3

soft sex >>>>>>> rewrote this twice bc i wanted them to scissor instead ..

the candles on the dresser illuminate the bedroom perfectly, casting a soft shadow on you both just right. the glow of the moon peeks through the curtain, almost like it wanted it’s own sinful glimpse in both yours lives. your shared life.

“you're crying,” vi’s voice rings out above you, ripping you from your sudden trance, her hips moving at a slow pace that has you feeling more in heaven by the second each time her cunt glides against yours, and squeezing your leg around her and blinking away the tears pooling in the corner of your eyes. “did i hurt you?” concern is written all over her face when you quickly look at her and shake your head with a soft laugh. a laugh she adores.

“no, no you didn’t hurt me,” you reassured and cupped her face between your hands. “just love you.”

her forehead comes down to rest on yours and she smiles softly and cups your cheek. “i love you.” the words spoken as almost a secret, woven into the privacy of your bedroom.

wrapping your hand around her arm, your lips part with a gentle gasp and your hips buck up just right, just enough to elicit a whimper from between her pink plump lips as your clit rubs against hers.“i love you more.” you spoke between moans.

“hm,” vi chuckled and placed a kiss on your cheek. “no you don’t, i will always love you more, end of discussion.”

“not true, i love you the— oh fuck.” you gasped, fingers threading up into the hair on the back of her head when she’s holding your leg against her hip and grinding down onto your cunt just a little harder. “vi, baby,”

breathing heavily into your forehead, vi hums and quickly removes her hand from your leg, runs it up your side, and grabs your tit. “fuck, you feel so good,” she nods and squeezes the soft flesh gently.

you’re quick to cup the back of her head when vi buries her face in the crook of your neck, holding her to you. her sweaty body fits moulds perfectly with yours, strands of her hair brush against the skin of your cheek and your hips move in sync with hers; like tectonic plates.

“i love you,” vi whined, biting and kissing at your neck. “i love you, i love you.” the words fell from her lips like a prayer, cunt sliding against yours more quickly, eagerly even. “i love you so fuckin’ much.”

“love you,” you smiled, pushing your hips up, holding onto her hip to pull her more into you, guiding her and grinding up against her cunt. “i love you, baby,”

“shit, fuck—” vi’s voice broke just slightly as her lower stomach tightens. “baby girl,”

you weren’t far behind.

“m’gonna cum,” you warned.

“gonna cum?” she laughed when you nodded your head quickly and kissed harder at your neck. “me too.”

vi’s body tensed suddenly after the words tumble from her lips, yours quickly doing the same after a few more grinds of her hips and she buries her face more into your neck, if that was even possible and whimpers into your skin. “shit—” she’s coming with another loud moan while your eyes roll back into the back of your head as you cum against her with a mixture of moans and moans while gripping onto her tightly. “fuck, baby—”

your hand guides her hips still, riding you both through your orgasm and her body twitches at the overstimulation. “little more, please” you beg into her shoulder, sinking your teeth into her skin. “just—”

“not going anywhere, beautiful, right here.” vi promised, rocking her hips back and forth slowly. “take what you need, m���not going anywhere.”

[na0koz]

HIIIIIII

I was thinking about a reader who’s either equally if not more obsessed with jinx? (Sorta like love Quinn and Joe from you-) and so they’re both stealing stuff from each other, extremely jealous, and super super obsessive but trying to keep it from each other 😭

hi guys….this is not my best work, apologies in advance.. i definitely could have made reader crazier but i just COULDNT!!!! writers block is one hell of a drug. i hope this satisfies yall while i work on a couple other requests. they should be better, hopefully..

this is the request where i had a few other similar ones! i hope everyone who requested the similar ones is happy with this lol.

toxic!jinx masterlist

the thing with jinx was that she was always just a little less aware than the average person. you always thought you weren’t all that discreet about how obsessed with her you were, but she never really caught on. to be fair though, she was much more obvious about her own obsession.

it kind of cancelled yours out, hid it from her. she wasn’t completely open about it, she did absolutely everything she could to hide certain aspects of her behaviour that she knew (thought) would scare you. what she didn’t know was that you were doing practically the same thing.

whatever she hadn’t taken from you, you had taken from her. one time, she was cleaning herself up after somehow exploding an egg all over herself while trying to cook for you. you took your opportunity as your eyes trailed over all of her stuff that she’d strewn over your apartment. clothes, her boots, her bag and its contents.

you locked your eyes onto one of her boots, the ones she wears every day. you creep towards it and unlace it, completely pulling the string out. quickly, you pocket it and dig around in your drawer for something to fill the space with. to your luck, the ones you had were the exact same as the one in her other boot. you thread it through the holes in the worn leather and hurry back to where you had been standing.

she comes out of the bathroom with steam billowing around her frame just a few seconds later. she looks so pretty you could literally burst into song and dance. you smile at her and shove the lace deeper into your pocket.

“all clean?” you sing at her. she nods enthusiastically and starts clawing around in your closet for some clothes to wear. she looks so pretty with her hair down, strewn over her bare back in wet clumps.

you snatch your phone from the counter and snap a photo of her. you save it into your folder full of hundreds of photos of her from all kinds of different angles.

she turns around after pulling one of your tshirts on and skips over to you. she leans forward onto your shoulder as you shove your phone into your other pocket, hoping she doesn’t notice your hasty movements.

“brush my hair f’me?”

you can’t say no to her, not with those eyes and that smile, that hair, that waist and.. anyway. you nod and she cheers, going to grab her your hairbrush. she flops herself down in front of you on the couch and flicks her wet, tangled hair into your lap. you have no idea how she managed to get it to grow so long.

you start to brush her hair, when a few strands of jinx’s cerulean hair loosen themselves and find their way onto your clothes. you make an effort to keep it stuck to you to add it to your collection, you were just so fascinated with how blue her hair was.

that same night jinx manages to cut a small lock of your hair off while you slept peacefully. she intertwines it with a lock of her own. to the average person, she would look like an absolute psycho casting a spell on you, but she’s just… you know… making sure you stay in love forever. no similarities to spell casting at all.

strange how you do practically the exact same things to each other, yet never realise.

———

jinx often contradicts herself. she needs to know every single detail about everything you’ve ever done and will do and are doing, yet if she’s going somewhere she almost never tells you where or when or for how long. in her mind, if it doesn’t directly involve you then you don’t need to know.

you’ve mentioned it to her a couple times, and she’s said she’ll try remember to tell you. she never does, so you take matters into your own hands.

she had mentioned something about a market a couple days ago, so you thought you’d check there first; you knew it was definitely on today. after some scouting around, you catch a glimpse of her typical blue braids. ducking behind a stall, you mentally applaud yourself for being sooo smart and tracking her down.

you watch her from a distance, just as she does to you. not once does she notice you, just as you do when she does this. the pair of you are much more similar than you both realise.

it was almost comical, how both you followed each other, stole each other’s stuff, basically stalked one another and were so so obsessed, but neither of you knew about the other’s actions. you wonder what would happen if jinx caught onto you, and she wonders the same thing.

after a while of her skipping around, jinx stops and leans against a wall. she watches people pass by her as she nibbles on whatever sickly sweet pastry she had bought. she often gets pretty overwhelmed in crowded spaces like this one, and has to withdraw like she’s doing now. you know that. you notice pretty much every tiny thing about her. you hope she does the same.

you watch her, unblinking. any other (sane) person would feel at least a smidge of shame from doing this, even freaking out and labelling themselves as a gross perv. but you don’t even have it in you to do that, not when you love your girlfriend so much. you just can’t let her roam around by herself, what if she needs you?

you’re only doing it because you love her.

she only does it because she loves you.

once jinx decides she’s ready to venture back into the crowd, you notice her scanning over a stall covered with trinkets and jewellery. she eventually picks up a necklace, holding it up and swinging it in front of the old woman running the stall. it caught the sunlight and shimmered as jinx paid for it and skipped off.

you realise she’s headed home so you have to take off in a sprint to make it back before her. you may not be ashamed of your obsession but you don’t really like the idea of getting caught. you know jinx is a liiiittle crazy, and you’re not really sure how she’d take it.

a couple hours later, after the two of you had dinner, jinx jumps up from her seat.

“i got you somethin’!”

she comes back with a small box, decorated by her no doubt. the paint splattered over it, a wonky, graffiti-style heart in the middle, gave it away.

she opens it and holds up the necklace you watched her buy that same afternoon. she dangles it in front of you as she did to the woman she bought it from, a big grin on her face.

you tell her you love it as she clasps it around your neck. you glance down at the shoelace wrapped around your wrist, the one you pulled from her boot a few days earlier. when jinx asked where it was from, you told her you got it on vacation when you were younger. close one.

it is really goddamn difficult to act like you’ve never seen that necklace before.

[lynk-zee]

Evol is Love Spelled Backwards

Synopsis: In which whilst fighting Heartbreaker, they get smacked in the face by their newest love spell which makes them impossibly gobsmacked over the person they love. PRE-RELATIONSHIP

Seeing Zayne on a hospital bed instead of a patient was a sight no one expected to see. But he was acting weird. Way weird. After getting smacked in the face by Heartbreaker, his temperature spiked, his face flushed, and his heart rate seemed to rocket whenever he’s not near you. So, as the doctor checks him out, Zayne’s glassy eyes are glued to you, as if the moment he looked away you’d disappear forever. He holds your hands tightly, never wanting to let go. After the checkup, the doctor said the side affects would disappear within a few hours. When he left, Zayne yanked you onto the bed, onto his lap, pinning you to his chest. He looked up at you with a lovesick expression.

Zayne: Are you hurt…

MC: Me? You’re the one who blocked the attack…

Zayne: Of course… I love you… And I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Ever.

You flushed, not expecting that at all. Sure, you’ve both danced around the subject, sharing affections, but…

MC: Wait until you’re sober to tell me that…

Zayne: Does it matter? I’ve felt this way my entire life…

You’re sure he can feel the way your heart races. Like a sixth sense. He gives you an absolutely lovesick smile and leans up to nuzzle your nose with his. Even under this spell, your comfort and safety comes first.

When Zayne comes to, he’s slightly embarrassed by the whole ordeal but rolls with it anyways.

Zayne: Not exactly how I pictured that, but— would you like to go on a proper date with me?

Oh boy. Rafayel’s already clingy as it is. Imagine him getting smacked in the face with Heartbreaker’s love letter spell? Absolutely horrible. Thomas had to cancel his event with how insufferable and whiny Rafayel was acting. And god forbid you leave his side for even a second— How dare you!

Rafayel: Just say you hate me and want me to die!

MC: I don’t see what the big deal is. I just need to—

Rafayel: NO!

Rafayel sprung to his feet on wobbly legs. He can’t hold himself up, so he falls into your arms like a dainty princess. Lucky for him, you’re too lost in the impossible colors in his eyes to chastise him. With flushed cheeks, he furrows his eyebrows in a cute glare and tells you how he feels.

Rafayel: I don’t want you to leave me ever! I want you to stay by my side.

MC: I can only do so much as your bodyguard—

Rafayel: *shakes his head* Not as my bodyguard! As my soulmate!

Your heart stopped. Did he mean it? Like, really mean it? Rafayel always flirted with you, but you always took it in good jest, secretly wishing it was real. But now…

When Rafayel sobers up, he grabs your hand, gently cradling your face.

Rafayel: I meant it you know… Every single word… Let me take you out on a date. Just me and you…

Writing this report to Jenna was going to be tricky. I mean, how do you tell your boss that the strongest hunter on the team was completely inebriated by a love spell? Xavier, being the dashing and heroic hunter you knew, stepped in front of you as Heartbreaker unleashed their newest spell. The force of nature that was your partner has been reduced to a pile of goop clinging onto your shoulder like his life depended on it. As you walked him up to his apartment, you had to fight down the burn in your cheeks as he complimented the smell of your hair and the new lipstick you bought. He was close. Too close.

MC: Alright, Xavier. Here we go. Just give me your keys and you’ll be home safe and sound— WAH!

Xavier had unlocked the door for you and fell in, bringing you down with him. You landed on his chest with an oof, concerned on whether or not he hit his head.

MC: Are you okay?!

As you felt around the back of his head for any bumps, his arms around you tightened, pinning you to his chest. You flushed, your noses almost touching. His eyes linger on your lips, a hand going up to play with your hair as he hummed.

Xavier: I’m okay…

MC: Aha… That’s good. Um, could you let me up now.

He furrowed his brows with a serious glint in his eyes.

Xavier: No.

MC: But I need to—

Xavier: You don’t need to do anything. Not without me. We’re partners—

MC: Yes… Work partners—

Xavier: For life.

Woahhhh. He hasn’t even asked out on a date yet at that point. When he comes to, he’s genuinely confused by what he had just admitted to you. But he wasn’t going to back down.

Xavier: That wasn’t how it went in the books I’ve read but… Do you want… To go out sometime?

[industrations]

will you ever draw masc sirius? not to compare artists but recently i've just noticed masc sirius pics get more notes and ppl get more pissed off bc of fem sirius. it's ok if you draw fem wolfstar (fem sirius AND fem remus) but it's kinda weird you only draw remus masc. kinda heteronormative. when wolf is gay. plus canonically sirius was masc and remus was fem (sirius was the biker and remus was short.) it's ok you're more into fanon but canon is real so i'm just curious if you will ever draw masc sirius. if you will it'll be very cool and i'm sure you'll get more notes too.

This is the LAST time I'm going to be talking about this because I'm so TIRED of this debate.

Firstly, the "canon" you speak of is written by this person. So think before you start arguing anything about canon.

Then, since apparently some of you still cannot read. I DO NOT DRAW FOR YOU; I DRAW FOR ME. I could not care less about notes or likes or popularity. I'm just here to have fun and enjoy my time. That you are so concerned about notes is your own problem, not mine, but I suggest you change that because notes do not equal any sort of value, and this mindset is just going to be bad for anyone's mental health.

My favourite thing as a person whose gender is literally all over the place is getting to express that through the characters I draw. For ME, this mainly happens through Sirius because his "canon" is this very HETERONORMATIVE man. The freedom of him being able to step away from that and to be allowed to be whatever he wants to be on that day is just wonderful. Sirius, for me, is a reminder that no matter what you're born as or whatever people say you should be, it does not say anything about how you feel or express yourself.

Remus will forever keep evolving for me. He's also allowed to be whoever he wants to be. When I read fics he looks different in every single one. And if you actually paid attention to my art, you can see that he does not always look the same. For me, Remus is a comfort. He will always be a long, wet noodle with bad knees to me. He will always have his scars and his freckles, and those are what make him beautiful. I'm not sure why people immediately assume this is something that makes him "the man" or "the top". If that's what you're thinking when you see them, then there's something gone wrong on your side because you are deciding what a queer relationship is supposed to look like, when in fact you are the one being homophobic and heteronormative.

Also that my Sirius is shorter and more gender-y so to say, does not mean he can't kill a bitch on sight. He could break Remus in half in a second if he wanted to.

Anyway, I'm off to draw some dead gay wizards in whatever way I want to <3 love you guys. Truly the majority of you make me feel safe and seen, and I couldn't have wished for a more supportive community

[starreyblueberry]

Every time I think about Peri and Timmy a part of me breaks apart. I saw a fanart and some description about Peri and Timmy being like you wake up one day and your best friend is gone and it broke me cause actually imagine that.

You have been born because of a wish, something no child has done in thousands of years. He was beside the bed you were born in, Eyes filled with wonder. You would grab his finger while he cradles you in his arms, listening to him talk to you, looking at you as if you were his entire world. He would say the words I love you over and over, and you believed him. He was your first word, for a while. He was the only person you wanted to call out too, to reach out, and he was delighted to be there for you anytime you said his name. He would rush to your side and do whatever you needed. he helped teach you how to ride a bike, even if it was a human activity, you could fly with him anyway. you still wanted to do it with him though, cause it was Timmy!. he snuck you out late at night just to get you an extra sweet, and even if you could wish for it, you still wanted to do it with him. he picked you up from school with your mom and dad, talking to you about all the wacky antics and adventures he had with mom and dad. he helped you beat the last round of video games, teaching you the controls and secret hacks to beat the bosses properly. he hugged you when you felt like you had no one else. when you were the only kid fairy in a long, long time, he reminded you he would be there for you every single day. Every single birthday he was there to celebrate- make a cake with his bare hands and decorate his house just for you, it was always bliss with him.

Until you were 8. You were 8 years old when it was your older brothers birhday- 18. You were warned as the days came, but it felt so far, so impossible, that he had to go. he had to leave, and he could never see you again. He tried to find any- any loophole that could let him stay, Cosmo and Wanda looked everywhere in da rules, they hopped dimensions talked with other planets, had a case that could prove he was meant to be with his fairies forever, but he couldn't. No human could ever remember fairys, there were consequences that would affect everything outside of his family, he had to accept it. He could never say your name with such kindness again, He could never bring you to the ends of the galaxy again, he would never remember anything at all. You cry. You cry and cry and cry and think how cruel it is that you can never see your best friend again. You can never see your older brother ever again. He wouldn't remember carrying you, hugging you, tucking you before bed, he wouldn't remember birthdays, holidays, vacations, he wouldn't remember you. It felt worse then anything you've ever experienced, you barley could handle it at the time and still cant now. The only proof that he was in your life was your mere existence, your whole life was proof that Timmy Turner was your older brother, that he was Cosmo's and Wanda's godkid, and you would never forget that, no matter how much time has passed, no matter how many godkids go though the same cycle, you would always remember Timmy Turner.

[pauleentology]

Ben Clark's trauma🩷

His mischaracterization is literally crazy bro especially on those Wattpad fanfictions I cannot bring myself to finish any of them because they all portray ben as the big quiet dude😖 he is so much more than that oms

Trauma analysis

in my honest opinion, Ben had the worst backstory ever of all of them like it was literally so brutal and for WHATTTTTT (jk red knows how much i like traumatized teenagers)

Imagine being judged by your appearance and not being able to make much friends because of being too "intimidating" just because of your size, and being judged for how you express yourself because it isn't what others expected of you to do, then ultimately being bullied for it just because your appearance didn't match your personality.

Imagine being feared by everyone and persistently being offered by bully-groups and punks to join them because all they see in you is a weapon and not a human being all because your size isn't that of your age?? Finally building up the courage to show everybody that you're more than just the dangerous giant they see you as and actually perform, but they choose not to listen to your voice and focus on why somebody of your size is singing instead of fighting and slacking because they're just that shallow.

Then at 12 years old having that one thing you love most taken from you because you refused to become something you're not, losing your way of expression, spiraling into depression not long after.

The moment he wakes up in the hospital, trying to speak or say anything but all that comes out is broken words and strained breaths. How disgusted he must've been after hearing his shattered voice for the first time— that his greatest treasure just slipped away from him like that, and the thought that he would never be able to sing again slowly settling in.

Being so blinded by rage and having that much anger inside of you that you just give up on controlling it and let it all out in forms of street fighting and brawling, becoming so numb and addicted to the sensation that you can't bring yourself to stop no matter how much you want to.

Coming home from school to see his house set in flames from spite of a fight HE started. Seeing his parents and little sister grieving over the loss of their home— all because of him and his rage.

The realization creeping in that you've become the one thing that you swore to never be. That all the pain and beatings you endured, all in vain because you gave in anyway. You gave in on your own volition. The hate he must've felt towards himself because he was the cause of their pain. Seeing himself as a monster. Realizing how much people he'd hurt because of his lack of self-control and rage.

The day his parents broke to him the news that he'd be staying at his cousin's house for the time being, thinking that they didn't want him around anymore. Him thinking that he was so dangerous his own parents had to ship him off someplace else. He'd hurt everyone around him, and it took so much for him to realize it. He'd look at himself in the mirror— and instead of seeing the innocent little boy what he saw instead was a rage-filled monster everyone feared but this time for good reason. How he'd lost himself completely, and there's nothing he can do to undo everything that happened.

How scared he must've felt that he might hurt Aiden's family too like he hurt everybody around him, and how much he hated himself for not being able to control it.

Finding comfort and belonging with Aiden again for the first time in forever— a newfound peace and purpose after picking up multiple hobbies and a new kind of happiness after meeting the SBG group. Buttttt at the cost of having to brush with death every single night and watch two of his friends die— imagine how he felt when they were talking about how they could be becoming phantoms, how it would all happen again. The feeling of becoming the one thing you sought to destroy and having no control over it was all too familiar to him. The fear he must've felt realizing that everything from his past would repeat itself this way, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Nobody ever talks about his reaction during Aiden's death. Watching his cousin and bestfriend get crushed by a ceiling right in front of him and not being able to do anything since he was still covering Tyler. The cousin that took you into their home, understood you, stayed with you, and saw you as a normal human being rather than a dangerous giant. The person that was able to finally make you feel what it felt to belong for the first time in your life— and watching that person die infront of you. And he just had to stay there— he couldn't do anything to save him. After all, he never could.

The constant reminder that he had no control over anything in his life.

[actual-changeling]

i think it's hard to understand the level of betrayal crowley must have felt, which leads to a lot of assumptions around him easily forgiving aziraphale or not being angry; so let's put ourselves into his position.

imagine: your partner, your best friend, the one person in the world that you love more than anyone else, asks you to change how you look, how you talk, who you are—so you can follow them back to an abusive household that threw you out and told you to never come back.

and they tell you that happy and excited and it's not even a question, it's a "by the way, we're doing that, isn't that great?"

you try to tell them no, it's not, i don't want to go back there, i like who i am now. they hurt me and scarred me for life, and they will do it again.

the person you loves, the person you thought loves you, looks at you and says "but you're bad. don't you want to be good? they can make you good."

come with me, you say. that house doesn't want us, we can have our own, we can build our own home. just the two of us, we don't need them, we're fine the way we are.

"i can change them" they say, as if you didn't try. as if you didn't try to change them first. as if that wasn't the reason they threw you to the wolves.

fuck it, you say. you confess your love anyway because they must know, right? they need to know. "don't leave me" you beg, plead, pray.

"oh," they respond, smiling. "nothing lasts forever."

you try to walk away, they stop you, they make it worse, make it clear they don't understand you like you thought. do they love you or the version of you they created in their head? you can't tell anymore.

"we could have been us," you say. we could have been happy.

you kiss them because you have to, because you will be damned twice over if you lose them without kissing them, because your patience snaps and you think you might die if you don't kiss them right now.

it doesn't change anything. "i forgive you"—for being me? for loving you? for refusing to tear myself apart? for kissing you? it's not like it matters. they're gone. you watch them leave.

would you immediately forgive them if they showed up on your doorstep? or would you be heartbroken and angry? you miss them, you still love them, but FUCK YOU. fuck you for demanding that of me. fuck you for everything you said. FUCK YOU FOR LEAVING.

six thousand years. six thousand years.

it would already be hard to forgive a person you have loved for two years or ten, and it gets worse the longer you know them. six thousand fucking years and aziraphale did that. we know why he did. we know how their story will end, but crowley doesn't.

all crowley has is aziraphale's speech and his face disappearing behind elevator doors. all crowley has is you're the bad guys and come with me and nothing lasts forever and i need you and i forgive you.

love alone does not and cannot fix that. aziraphale took six thousand years of trust and set them on fire with a smile on his face, and i understand the urge to try and find an explanation where he doesn't do that. where everything is secretly fine.

but there isn't.

aziraphale needs to rebuild that trust, he needs to earn it again. and mot importantly, he needs to understand why his words and actions broke it in the first place. but even then—even if crowley is the kindest possible version of himself and aziraphale does everything right—even then crowley would have every single right to say i don't forgive you. i love you and i understand you, we can be together, but i cannot forgive you for that and we both have to live with that now.

they will get their happy ending, i do truly believe that, but it might not be the fairy tale happily ever after you imagine and that's okay. it still counts. it's still good.

let crowley be angry and let them find their way back to each other, even if that path does not include forgiveness.

[nixwriteschaos]

HEY OMG IM GLAD YOUR REQUEST ARE OPEN!! . Okay so I saw that CLASS 1A x Nomu!Male!Reader oneshot and I was really good !! And I was thinking about one where the M!reader likes Bakugo (he my fav) and he just follows him where ever he goes and Bakugo just don’t mind at all, he even give him head pats , even feed him some of his food. Everyone is just shocked how Bakugo is acting

A New Friend or Pet?

Katsuki Bakugou x Nomu!Male!Reader Summary: Class 1A, loving their new addition to their class, couldn’t help but notice by the fact that their new Nomu friend seems to have a favorite… but who knew it would be the angry blonde?

★☽A/N: REALLY?? I honestly didn’t have much fun making it, but thank you so much!! <33 And I, too, love Katsuki Bakugou <33 Anyways, I’m still recovering from the fact that BNHA is ending in August 5 with their last chapter :(( BNHA had been a huge part of my life and I’m worried that I would grow out of BNHA and have a different favorite :(( But, still, I will forever love BNHA and will help continue the fandom!! Of course, not in the ykyk way…. Especially the tampon thing… ALSO! I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT TOGA IS DEAD, SHIGARAKI’S DEAD, AND DABI/TOUYA IS ON HIS WAY TO DEATH?? I LOVE THEM SO MUCH, PLEASEEEEE HORIKOSHI!! AT LEAST LET DABI STAYY, HAVE ERI REWIND HIM OR SOMETHING.

Contents: FLUFF

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

For the next few months, Y/N have been a really friendly and quiet person. Even though he doesn’t talk much, he expressed his emotions using his tail and ears! His ears would twitch in embarrassment, tail wagging in excitement, tail between his legs in worry, guilt, panicked, his tail would be on guard, like a cat, when he’s angry. Of course, his tail would be low if he would be sad.

Everyone in class found him adorable! Like a little puppy! Mineta wouldn’t stop being jealous, saying how he couldn’t believe that all the girls were falling for him! Of course, his statements were ignored by his classmates.

But lately, some of the students had noticed Y/N following around a certain blond…

—

“Stop following me, dragon!” Katsuki yelled out as Y/N tailed behind him. Katsuki was starting to get really annoyed by the dragon-like Nomu boy. Every single day, he had followed the blond to everyone.

Class? He’s right behind him!

Cafeteria? Save Y/N a seat! He’s coming with!

And Katsuki was slowly getting really pissed, always lashing out at Y/N who reacted to it. He didn’t even seem to mind! Every single punch and slap goes unbothered by the Nomu! All he did was stare into Katsuki’s eyes. Katsuki slowly got creeped out, and it’s not common for the blonde to get creeped out by something! But Y/N’s glowing pools of gold-like yellow was giving him shivers down his spine.

He thought, ‘If I continue to ignore him, he’ll leave me alone!’ But he surely thought wrong. Because he got used to the Nomu following him around, considering his wings adjusted and shrinked along with his tail and horns to look less menacing. Even if the blonde didn’t want to admit it, he actually enjoyed having the Nomu following around.

It might’ve even boosted his ego! Having a Nomu following him around made him look powerful- like he just tamed a beast! Even though it was like Y/N had tamed the beast named Katsuki Bakugou.

And slowly, he started to treat the Y/N like a pet. A friend pet, perhaps? Watching the menacing aura that surrounded the poker-faced Nomu follow the tempered blonde around was a rare sight to see. And by now, Katsuki didn’t mind at all!

Sometimes, if he had treats given by some girl or his friends, he would give it to Y/N who happily accepted the treats. Sometimes, if Katsuki was eating chips, he would grab one and offer it to Y/N who ate it out of his hand with a small smile.

And, when the blonde was bored, and out of curiosity, he would give Y/N head pats. It could be anywhere! In class? The black haired Nomu would sit beside Katsuki on the ground and the blonde would pat his head during class. The Nomu’s hair wasn’t exactly the smoothest, it was soft and fluffy when no one helped him with his hair.

And Katsuki, the ever feminist he was (Thank you, Mama Bakugou!) he would braid Y/N’s long hair. It was always a long braided tail that matched his own scaled tail. At the dorms, Katsuki would offer his food to Y/N which distracted him while the blonde braided his hair into a long braided tail.

Everyone was surprised at how calm the blonde was, a total opposite to his tempered side.

But, no one dared to comment and just let the blonde have fun with his new raven-headed friend.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

[goldenroutledge]

when you reach me

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

warning(s): main character death, grief, spiritual connection. this one’s pure angst.

summary: in which you mourn the love of your life.

jj maybank masterlist

Tears cloud your vision, preventing you from reading the words on the page. This is it, you think. The moment of closure you still haven’t allowed yourself to have, nothing but guilt clouding your mind since you left him. Not since you, supposedly the love of his life and the keeper of his secrets, abandoned him in Morocco. His worst fear in life come true in his death.

No matter what you tell yourself, it will never be enough. There’s not a single magic spell or genie in a bottle that could bring him back. There’s nothing– that’s good for you anyway– that will ease the pain of losing him. You remember the sadness and the frustration you felt watching him on the boat, drinking the days away because of a purpose he lost sight of. Now, that memory resonates with you more than ever. You know the feeling, it’s resignation.

The only thing that motivated you to pick up a pen and write was the fact that you owed it to him to send your feelings out there, somewhere into the universe. The tranquility of the water at night welcomed you from where you sat on the dock. You figured this would be one of the hardest places to be, overwhelming you with the reminder of what’s happened. You don’t need to be reminded, you can feel it. In every breath there’s an ache in your heart and a bruise to your bones. You can feel him here, ready and waiting to receive you. It’s the closest you’ll ever get to leaving flowers at a graveyard after all.

Rolling your letter, watching as the ink disappears with each movement of the paper is enough to make your throat swell and tears brim in your eyes. Sliding the message into the bottle is excruciating. Taking your deepest thoughts of him and sending them away. As if someone is stripping a child of their favorite toy, infringing on the emotional attachment they have to it. That’s exactly what this feels like, words in the shape of your heartstrings that you badly want to let go of, yet can’t help but stay close to. Until you remember, these words don’t belong to you. They belong to him, wherever he is. Gently, you press your lips to the bottle, giving a kiss goodbye to the metaphor it holds. JJ Maybank, your heart in human form once upon a time, is gone from your reach forever.

These waters are the closest thing you have now. When you look into them, only then can you remember the beautiful days you shared with him here, free of the anguish that locks your heart up in chains. The days of diving, swimming, kissing him in these waters, are long gone. A place where the world used to wait, where the moment would never end if you could have things your way. Setting the bottle free into these waters, you feel nothing but uncertainty that you’ll ever be the same. Watching the bottle float away and out of sight, you can’t help but wonder if he’s somewhere out there feeling the same thing.

-

‘I know I’ve waited a while to do this, JJ. I’m sorry. I’ve been in shock, in pain, angry enough to set the world on fire, numb enough to not feel the flames as they burn. You need to know that I’m sorry. I’m not who I used to be, I’m not the person you said you love with your last breath. I can’t be that person anymore after your killer released all of his hell and gave it to me. I can’t look in the mirror without seeing a shell of who I once was. I can’t take care of the others when I don’t remember how to take care of myself. I’m sorry that I have broken all of the promises between us. You wouldn’t want this for me and I don’t either. But here we are. Here I am really, it’s just me now. Sometimes I forget that, things should be different.

Someone asked me out on a date about a week ago, I felt like punching him in the face. If it weren’t for the others, I would have. If anything, they are taking care of me. I know you want me to be happy. For some people that means moving on, lighting a new torch with the one you carry for a past love. I’ve come to accept that I’m just not capable of that. What would make me happy about looking into another’s eyes and seeing yours? How could I feel safe from another’s touch if it isn’t yours? Our love made me believe that my heart could never break. I was wrong. I was so very wrong. Maybe that’s cynical of me, but I witnessed your life come to its end, I deserve to be. A part of my life ended, too.

I wish I could keep believing in everything that brought us together, but I can only remember everything that tore us apart. I hate it when people tell me that someday I’ll find love again. I do have someone I love, but not in a way that their eyes can see. They don’t understand that I don’t want to know a life without you. I’ve been told that each day gets a little better. They’re wrong. My heart breaks every day that life goes on without you. I loved you for practically your entire life, how am I supposed to be okay knowing that you loved me for only a part of mine? I don’t want to wake up one day and remember you only exist in my memory, that you’re only a shadow playing tricks on me.

I can’t make any promises to you. A part of me never wants to forgive you for leaving. The best I can do is thank you for showing me what it means to love someone, to know that I’m only one half of one soul. For giving me a reason to laugh and smile. It is because of these things, that makes you the reason why I scream and cry. There’s so much I wish you were here to do, so much I wish we could still do together. I miss you, JJ. I don’t think I’ll ever stop. I’m trying to learn about who I am without you. I don’t know if I’ll ever find out, but please just know that I’m trying. Every morning I wake to an empty bed, every time I want to shatter the mirror in front of me, I keep trying. For you, I’ll never stop. You didn’t have a choice nor a chance, and I’d be damned if I didn’t take mine. I love you.’

Y/n

💌: had this in my drafts for months now, really ever since watching the obx 4 finale :,) it was nice while it lasted right? thanks for reading!

[iiovserii]

Daddy’s Home — Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

summary: Miguel didn’t get to be picky when it came to choosing his new, forever home, as long as he was in Gabriella’s arms again. Even if it meant sharing her with you. (3.1k Words) Based on this prompt

warnings: angst, slight smut, violence (including the disposal of a body), emotional manipulation, toxic relationship

authors note: this was inspired by one of my prompts from around a week ago and i’ve been holding onto this bad boy for about a week considering it’s my first ever fanfic i’ve ever wrote..i just wanted it to be perfect 😭 in my prompt i said something about the reader being sweet but she’s a lot more firey in this because the real miguel was an asshole who was never home..but i hope you all enjoy anyways! i was hoping to create this into series so if you want to be added to the taglist let me know 💖 i’ve also added the translation at the end just because 🤷‍♀️

Link to the Ao3 ver instead!

Miguel didn’t get to be picky when it came to choosing his new, forever home, as long as he was in Gabriella’s arms again, even if it meant sharing her with you. You were littered through Gabriella’s file, a pretty hard person to miss considering the fact that you were there for every single moment of her life—the sweet cooing voice in each video of her as a baby, the delicate hands that held the small, chubby fingers as she took her first steps, and the laughter that arose from behind the camera as Gabriella pulled a funny face.

This Gabriella was the perfect fit, however perfect came with a mother that was alive and well. It was a package deal in this universe, a love intertwined with filial devotion that Miguel would just have to deal with.

But he couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy that was buried deep in his chest, even as he watched a memory of Gabriella’s first goal (a favorite of his), which was originally only celebrated by him, now being replaced by Gabriella shrieking excitedly as she ran up to her mother, throwing her arms around you in triumph.

Moments like these, so special for his little girl, fueled his deep hatred towards you. It was watching these memories where Miguel genuinely wondered if he was even present in this universe. Nevertheless, staring down at his own lifeless body made him realize just how right he was.

What was he doing outside alone, in a dark alleyway on a Friday night anyway? Why wasn’t he home with his daughter, with his wife?

Those were the thoughts that ran through his mind as he began disposing of the body—a man too selfish and weak to even protect his precious daughter. In the end, he got what was coming to him, or so he told himself to keep from feeling guilty.

He didn’t care for details, knowing he was here now to pick up the pieces of a broken family and restore it to something he could finally have a second chance with. He snapped out of his thoughts as he heard the jingle of a ringtone coming from his new phone. Swiping the phone from his pocket, he didn’t even stop to waver whether or not he should answer as he saw your name flash on the screen, rolling his eyes as he pressed accept. He pulled the device up to his ear, resting it on his shoulder and cheek as he listened to the sound of your voice.

The first thing he noticed was how tired you sounded—were you waiting for him to return home? He could imagine you laid on the sofa, eyes nervously glancing up at the clock at any given moment, a silly housewife awaiting her husband. He almost felt bad for you; it was pathetic that you would really allow yourself and Gabriella to live like that, always waiting.

He ended the call swiftly, making up some stupid excuse about how he caught up with work and would be arriving shortly. Pretty much in character for the man he just suffocated with his own hands, not raising any suspicion for you as he heard the sleepy yawn telling him that you’d be asleep by the time he got back.

However, despite the dark act he had just committed, he was willing to go to great lengths to win Gabriella's heart again. If putting this ring on his finger and pretending that the woman on the other end of the phone was his wife would grant him another chance with her, then so be it.

He wouldn’t mind playing house with you, as long as he was able to hold his daughter in his arms once more.

He felt disgusted even calling you 'wife', but for Gabriella's sake, he knew he needed to play along. It wasn't like it mattered anyway since your daughter worshipped you so much more than him.

He didn’t need you, he knew that.

However the thought of Gabriella’s eyes as they lit up when you walk in the room seemed to tell him otherwise. She needed you.

He hated the way the house was never quiet, there was always something happening.

You were making dinner? There had to be music in the background as you traveled around the kitchen, humming and singing along to whatever tune was playing on the speaker. That soft velvety voice seemed to flow through the house, and it killed him inside that he wanted to hear more of you.

Gabriella was playing outside? Well you were playing outside as well, it wasn’t like you had a choice, having being pulled away from whatever you were doing to entertain the small girl.

You had everything running like clockwork—cooking dinner while managing homework and playing with Gabriella at the same time—all without seemingly breaking any sweat or becoming frustrated.

Miguel couldn't help but admire you for being able to handle everything so seamlessly. But deep down, he still felt resentment towards you for taking over what should have been his role as the sole parent of their child.

He’d notice small things, like the way your hands flew to your face when you were shocked, it was sweet at first, until he realised Gabriella also did the same, she never did that before. He had noticed it one morning when he stood in the doorway of Gabie’s room, not trying to make his presence known as he watched the two of you play, and the scowl on his face didn’t go unnoticed as you furrowed your eyebrows at him, wondering what he looking at so intensely.

It took him the first couple of weeks to get used to your laugh, you were always laughing. It seemed to rub off on Gabriella as well, he didn’t think he’d ever seen her laugh this much, even before.

Miguel tried his best to ignore the feelings that arose in him at the sight of you playing with Gabriella, and sometimes even joined the two of you whilst you played your games. He couldn't help but feel envious of how happy the two of you looked together, reminding him of moments he could have had if only things had gone differently.

Despite these feelings, it wasn't long before Miguel began to see a different side of you. A side that made him realise why Gabriella adored you so much.

One day while cooking dinner, he noticed your eyes lighting up as Gabriella told a story about her day at school. You were so invested in her words that for once he felt like an outsider looking into your world.

He also witnessed moments when Gabriella fell ill and how tirelessly you took care of her; staying up all night by her bedside until she fell asleep or gently rubbing Vicks on her chest when she was coughing painfully.

It was moments like these when Miguel started to question his assumptions about you and wondered whether maybe—just maybe—he'd been too quick to judge.

But as much as Miguel tried to ignore it, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had buried something deep inside him. He couldn't let go of the resentment he felt towards you for replacing his role.

He started focusing on every little mistake you made, criticising your cooking and getting angry when things didn't go his way. Every time you laughed or smiled at Gabriella, it sent a pang of jealousy straight through him.

"She's too attached to you," he huffed, standing beside the bathroom counter as you both prepared for bed, "you can't even leave the room, and she's already wondering when you'll be back again."

"Well, maybe if you were around more often, she wouldn't be so reliant on me," you retorted, the soft glow of the bathroom lights casting shadows on your face, your voice laced with frustration.

His eyes narrowed as he leaned in, reaching for his toothbrush, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, of course, it's all my fault. Because you're just the perfect parent, aren't you? Always there, always available."

"You know what, maybe if you actually made an effort instead of criticizing me all the time, you'd see the bond we have is because I've been there for her when you weren't!" you retorted, your voice rising, the sound echoing against the tiled walls.

His tone grew more defensive. "I never said I was perfect, but at least I'm trying now. You could at least acknowledge that."

A mirthless smile crossed your face as you leaned against the bathroom counter, facing each other in the confined space.

"Acknowledging your half-hearted attempts doesn't erase the damage done, Miguel. It takes more than just physical presence to be a real parent."

The tension hung heavy in the air, the scent of toothpaste mingling with their argument, as the bickering between husband and wife intensified. The wounds of the past were reopened, and neither was willing to back down or see the other's perspective.

As the heated exchange reached its peak, you turned on your heels, ready to storm off, your frustration boiling over. But just as you took a step away, Miguel's hand shot out, firmly gripping your arm. The air tightened between you, the coolness of the bathroom tiles beneath your feet.

The grip on your arm only tightened, his expression a mixture of frustration and a confused longing. "You don't speak to me like that," Miguel growled, his voice firm. "You are my wife, act like it."

“You are my husband, I expect the same from you,” you snapped back, your voice dripping with defiance, refusing to back down as you swatted away his hand. “And—I will speak to you however I want.” The sound of running water from the faucet filled the silence.

A flicker of amusement crossed Miguel's face, his eyes tracing your determined form. He had underestimated your strength, your fiery spirit. Despite the frustration that lingered between them, a newfound admiration stirred within him.

"Si supiera que eras tan molesto, te habría dejado hace mucho tiempo, Muñeca," he mused, his tone tinged with a mix of fascination and curiosity, the steam from the shower filling the bathroom. “Las cosas que haría para callar esa boca tan bonita tuya.”

The intensity of the moment had rendered you momentarily speechless, steam rising in the bathroom as the warm air surrounded you both. But you managed to find your voice, albeit in a whisper, the sound barely audible over the running water.

"Now that's not fair," you murmured, the dampness of the bathroom clinging to your skin, your voice filled with a mixture of frustration and longing. "You know I don't understand what you're saying..”

A slow, mischievous smile curled at the corners of Miguel's lips, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief as he leaned in closer, the scent of shampoo and desire filling the air. And as your lips lingered so close, the unspoken desires between you both grew stronger.

“Good.”

The man currently asleep beside you, was not, to absolute certainty, your husband.

His features held a resemblance to the man you once knew, but there was a striking difference—an unfamiliar intensity in his eyes, he looked at you like he didn’t know you.

His hair fell differently, it looked more clean compared to the tousled mess due to work. You would've sworn he had a small crease in the corner of his eyebrow, but then it disappeared along with the mole on the side of his neck.

He smelled of citrus and leather before, a smell that made you turn when he walked into the room—you knew that smell more than you knew yourself.

Instead now, all you could smell was warm spice and amber. It almost made you smile when you smelt it on him as he walked past you that morning, a couple of weeks ago, until you realised that was the fragrance you got him last Christmas, the fragrance he said he hated and never wore.

The bed, too, felt subtly different beneath your weight, as if it dipped just slightly more than it used to.

It made you feel like your heart was tearing apart. On one hand, he was paying more attention to Gabriella, and she was thriving because of it. He took her to all the soccer practices, played with her and held her so tight that you’d think she’d pop.

You’ve never seen her so happy.

On the other hand, he was hardly in your presence. He hadn’t touched you for weeks, not even a kiss. The most he had done was argue with you, mostly about how close you and Gabriella was.

However, one thing that you couldn’t help but notice was the dark look in his eyes every-time Gabriella’s attention shifted toward you.

He was hardly around before, always at work, the gym or drinking with his co-workers at the bar across from town.

Nowadays it was hard for him to leave you and Gabriella alone.

Not to mention, it was like he grew twice in size. His shoulder looked broader, the veins in his arms popped, more defined. He could basically pick up your seven year old like a feather. Had he been working out more?

You shift on your pillow, eyes glancing down at his heaving chest as he slept. The only time he didn’t look so tense recently was when he was asleep. So peaceful.

You couldn’t help but reach out and dance one of your fingers on the side of his torso, quietly humming some annoying tune that wouldn’t leave your mind that morning.

"What are you doing, Gatita?" he quipped, unable to suppress a soft chuckle that escaped his lips, snapping you out of your thoughts and making you squeak.

As you tried to pull your hand away, Miguel quickly caught it in mid-air, his touch exerting a gentle but firm hold. His finger lightly pressed into your palm, a subtle reminder of his presence and it was almost like he was showing his desire to keep you near.

“What, don't you like touching your husband?" he playfully remarked, mischief dancing in his eyes. His gaze deliberately traveled down your body, as if savoring the sight before him.

Rolling your eyes and pouting, you couldn't resist the urge to make a bratty remark. "Well, it's not exactly enjoyable when the husband is such a pain in the ass." you huffed, your tone laced with a hint of childish defiance.

Feeling his firm hold on your hand, you let out a whine at the tightness. It was as if he was purposely trying to keep you close, unwilling to let you slip away. The intensity of his grip only fueled your frustration.

That’s an air between the two of you. You just couldn’t put your finger on it. The way you desperately try to search in his eyes for something, anything, that would tell you that the man you’re looking at, is, really your husband. The man you’ve spent nearly eight years with.

It’s almost like he’s trying to breathe you in, the way he looks like he’s trying to piece together your features, it makes you wonder if he even knows a thing about you.

The weight of the impending moment made you fidget, your fingers nervously playing with the edge of the bedsheet. You were acutely aware of the lingering tension between you and Miguel, and you attempt to find a way to wiggle your way out of his grasp.

A timid sigh escaped your lips, as a sense of unease settled upon your shoulders. "Gabriella will be waking up soon," you whispered, your voice tinged with a flicker of concern.

A cruel smirk played at the corner of his lips as he leaned in closer, invading your personal space. "Is my little wife hiding from me?" he sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm and mockery. “You know she’s not getting up for at least another hour.”

Your eyes darted nervously between him and the door, your mind already jumping to potential escape routes. You couldn't help but wonder if he was purposefully trying to push your buttons with his words.

"I just don't want her to-," you began to stutter, but were cut short as Miguel's grip tightened further on your hand. "Don't worry about Gabriella," he whispered into your ear, his breath hot against the nape of your neck. “She’ll be fine.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the sensation; it stirred something within you that you couldn’t quite explain. Within the eight years of your marriage, he had never made the room feel so..heated.

You gasped at the sensation of his lips pressing into your neck, sending shivers down your spine in a wave of desire and guilt. All logic told you that this was wrong, yet there was a part of you that wanted nothing more than to give in to the heat that bubbled within.

As Miguel's kisses grew bolder and more insistent against your skin, you couldn't help but writhe beneath him.

His groan reverberated through your body, stirring something deep within as he whispered against your ear "I know I've been a bad husband," punctuating each with another kiss along the length of your jaw.

"Miguel-" Your voice trailed off into a soft whimper as he shifted so that he was hovering over you, one hand moving to fondle at the curve of your hip while the other tangled itself in your hair.

"But I'm here now," he murmured between kisses before ducking back down to press his lips onto yours once again. The taste of him flooded through you even as he reached up under-shirt slowly caressing and teasing you, making sure not too much display signs of pleasure.

As the heat continued to build between you and Miguel, he began to part your legs, eliciting a soft gasp from deep within as his intent became clear. You felt his lips curl into a knowing smile at your reaction as he watched your mean facade fall away.

"Mmm," he hummed in appreciation as his eyes roamed over every inch of exposed skin. "Looks like my little wife isn't all mouth after all." He teasingly remarked before lowering himself once again so that his tongue could trace patterns along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

The sensation left you moaning softly in pleasure at the skilled touch, completely lost in the moment. It wasn't until Miguel's fingers found their way back up to her hips that you realized just how much control he had over this situation.

"You know what?" He said with a smirk pulling back to look at her face before diving down for another heated kiss "I think maybe have to put you in line more often."

You wouldn’t mind that in the slightest.

eng translation:

1. “Si supiera que eras tan molesto, te habría dejado hace mucho tiempo, Muñeca,” — "If I knew you were so annoying, I would have left you a long time ago, doll."

2. “Las cosas que haría para callar esa boca tan bonita tuya.” — "The things I would do to silence that beautiful mouth of yours."

3. “Gatita” — Kitten

[warblogs17282]

Still thinking about the Truth Seekers line where Loona said,

"Blitzo was using a total of zero euphemisms, innuendos, or swears. That means it was serious, which means I don't open it until--"

And now, I'm thinking about all the different emotional and heavy-hitting moments from Blitz, but from the lens of that statement, and I'd like to explore that in a little more depth.

Because I feel like looking through some key moments of Blitz through the lens of that statement helps to add another layer of depth to what Blitz has been saying.

S2 E9:

Blitzo: No, I just- This was the final stop on the apology tour I've been on today.

Stolas: Oh, yes, I recall. Everyone but me is getting your cheap apologies tonight, hm? Well, you certainly have your work cut out for you.

Blitzo: Look, how I acted this morning... It was fucked, okay?

Stolas: This morning? Ugh, why did you show up there? Why'd you show up here?

Blitzo: You already asked that, but look, I-I just really need to... To talk to you, to- to explain.

Stolas: Oh?

Blitzo: I've always been real shit at sorries, 'kay? They're for pussies and no one fuckin' deserves them anyway, but I felt maybe you actually needed one.

Stolas: Ooh, lucky me!

Blitzo: Oh, shit. Okay, what I mean is, I said sorry a lot today and, honestly, didn't really mean any of it. Because the only one I wanted to say it to... Was you, Stolas. I just... This whole thing we had going... I'm- I mean you're a fucking prince. How could you ever actually care for an imp... Me? How could anybody?

Stolas: Blitzo. There is a crowd full of people here, who cared so much, they'd throw an entire fucking party about hating you, every year! Do you know how much you have to care to do something as stupid as that?

Blitzo: Stolas, you are better off without me. 'Kay? You deserve so much... I don't even know why you would want to be with me.

'I mean you're a fucking prince.' Blitz is technically correct here, but if we consider the Truth Seekers statement, I believe it tells us that Blitz, at least subconsciously, sees Stolas as more than just a prince during this scene, he sees Stolas the man here, not just Stolas the prince. And honestly, that probably makes it hurt more to Blitz, since he's still in disbelief/denial that Stolas has these feelings for him at this point.

Especially considering what it's followed up with, which I'd like to mention doesn't have a single swear word in it whatsoever, telling us even more just how sincere Blitz is when he said that final line.

Verosika: How do you think I felt? When the fun guy I was dating decided to just bail on me because I made the shitty mistake of saying I love... Ugh! It was the most embarrassing feeling. To be vulnerable for once and... you really just know how to send a message in the shittiest, fucking way.

Verosika: The worst part is you still make me feel like a bad person for being angry at you now.

Verosika: But, hosting this party, for everyone else you've dicked over? At least I can help others cope with the shit you did. What? No snarky comeback?

Blitzo: No. You're right. I actually am, ya' know... sorry. I-I don't want to be this way. Not forever.

Verosika: Looks like Stolas is having a good time.

Blitzo: Yeah, well. He needs it.

Again, just pay attention to the fact that Blitz didn't swear once during the part of the conversation I just showed, showing once again even more just how sincere Blitz is being here, to not be the way he is forever, to let Stolas have his good time at the party.

S2 E8:

Blitzo: What?! FUCK you, Stolas! You spring this feelings bullshit on me, are you fucking kidding? Can I get a FUCKING minute to think after everything you put me through, you pompous, rich ASSHOLE?!

Blitzo: Treat me like one of your little butler imps?! You can't just dismiss me like that! I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this EVERY TIME, like you can just play with our feelings because we're smaller and not as IMPORTANT! Well, I'm not letting you, BITCH! LET'S GO!

Stolas: Blitzo... I think so very highly of you... I didn't realize you think so low of me...

Blitzo: Stolas, wait! I'm s-

You know, the amount of swearing in that part of the episode tells me something, that what Blitz said during the peak of his outburst was exaggerated a little. Does Blitz make some completely valid points during that outburst? Yes. Is what Blitz said during said outburst a bit exaggerated because he was in the heat of the moment? Yes. Both of these can coexist, and I do completely understand why Blitz said what he said during that argument. (I'm not choosing a side on who was in the wrong in the full moon argument here, btw)

And, the lack of swearing when the realisation hits to Blitz of what he's just done, right as he tries to apologise to Stolas just further tells me that Blitz did genuinely mean that 'I'm sorry', he said right before Stolas teleported Blitz out.

S1 E8:

Blitzo: Fuck, Fizz was right. I'm gonna die alone, aren't I? Just a wrinkly, old, withered, waste. Will you be there, Loonie?

Loona: Be...where?

Blitzo: I dunno, jus- ...lonely... Die alone...

Loona: I'll be there, Dad.

Loona: Now go the fuck to sleep... okay?

Blitzo: Millie... Moxxie... Stolas...

Again, pay attention to the lack of swearing in that part of the conversation, minus one 'fuck' at the start of it, it just adds to showing us just how raw and genuine Blitz's emotions are during this scene, showing us that Blitz genuinely believes that he's gonna die alone, and also showing us just how much Blitz still cares about Fizzarolli, Loona, Millie, Moxxie and Syolas.

S1 E7:

Stolas: You know, I have some more wine in the house. Octavia's with her mother this weekend. So, we could--

Blitzo: I'm not fucking you tonight, okay? I'm really just I'm really not in the mood, Stolas.

Stolas: We could talk, or... watch a movie, or... maybe cuddle?

Blitzo: Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to fuck you, okay? You make that really clear all the time. But, I just, I-I can't do it tonight, okay?

Blitzo: I'm sorry.

Stolas: Okay. Goodnight, Blitzo.

Blitzo: Night.

What I find interesting here is that the two times the word 'fuck' is used throughout this scene, it's used to replace the word 'sex', so thinking about this scene through the lens of that statement, it shows us even more just how much Blitz believes in what he's saying, especially when he says "Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to fuck you, okay? You make that really clear all the time."

Finally, S1 E6:

Moxxie: Do you remember what you said to me after my first day with the company?

Blitzo: ...Not really.

Moxxie: I remember. You told me I did a good job and that you were proud to work with me. I feel like you wanted to say something more judgmental, but... you said that because I needed it... And it helped.

Blitzo: Look, I'm hard on you, because I know what you're capable of, Mox. You care too much about what everyone thinks except for... me, because, y'know, my opinion is correct, but just... keep doing a good job. 'Kay? You shoot 'n kill good, you escape things easy... you can be strategic and cold-blooded when you need to, aaaand don't expect any more compliments; I'm maxed out.

Moxxie: Thank you, sir.

Blitzo: You know my name... Use it.

Moxxie: Thanks, Blitzo.

No euphemisms, innuendos or swears, showing us that when Blitz was talking to Moxxie in this scene, that he was 100% being serious in what he said.

So in conclusion: I have shown multiple examples where if you think about them through the lens of the statement "Blitzo was using a total of zero euphemisms, innuendos, or swears. That means it was serious, which means I don't open it until--", you start to see more depth within those examples I have shown in this post.